Christian
"Why mother?" I asked after she told me she wanted me to go to the Opera House the next day.
"One of my dreams if for you to perform there someday. It's better for you to get an idea of what it's like now," she answered.
"Perform? I'm not good enough to perform there," I told her.
"Christian! You are most certainly good enough to perform there," she replied.
"Perhaps," I said knowing I couldn't argue but wanting to be modest.
"You should get to bed Christian. You're leaving early tomorrow. Your father is going away on business and he's going to drop you off on his way," she told me.
"Alright. Good night mother," I said and kissed her on the cheek.
"Good night Christian," she said smiling. I walked upstairs to get ready for bed. As I entered my bedroom, I noticed something was wrong. A soft breeze played around my face, and my curtains flapped gently at my open balcony doors. I hadn't opened them before.
"Is someone there?" I called into the darkness. I heard no response so I walked towards my balcony. I went slowly and cautiously, looking around every part of my room. I stepped out onto the balcony and looked out across our property. I could see mother's garden below me.
Suddenly, as I stared into the dark, I felt a hand grabbed the back of my neck and another one cover my nose and mouth with a cloth. I struggled, but I could feel myself weakening. Just before I lost consciousness, I heard a voice. It was so calm and comforting that I felt I had to listen to it.
"Don't worry Christian; you're fine. I won't hurt you," it said. I immediately stopped struggling and listened; hoping the person who had spoken would say more. Their voice was so amazing that even one more word would have sent chills down my spine. "That's good Christian," I heard once I had relaxed. "Very good. Now, what I want you to do is sleep." At that, everything went black, and I knew no more.
When I woke, I found myself in a dim, candlelit room. I was lying on a bed. I looked around and saw a dresser and two doors. I got up off the bed and walked over to the dresser. Sitting on it were a silver handled hairbrush and a small mirror. I picked up the brush and looked at it.
Several long, dark hairs were caught in it. If I hadn't known I wasn't at the chateau, I would have thought the hairs belonged to my mother. I put the brush down and walked to one of the doors. I gripped the handle and tried to open it; it was locked. I tried the second one and found it did open. I cracked it and found a small bathroom. I went in and washed my face then came back out and sat on the edge of the bed. I was staring absently at the dresser when I noticed something carved into its door. I stood up and looked closer; they were letters.
CD
"CD," I whispered, and traced the letters with my finger. Right away one thing, one person, came to mind. "Christine Daae," I murmured, remembering my mother's maiden name had been Daae.
"Very good Christian." The voice behind me made me turn around in shock. I saw no on, yet I was sure I had heard a voice right behind me. Suddenly I saw a shadowed figure step out of a dark corner.
It was a man. He seemed familiar yet I could not tell where I had seen him before. He was perhaps a few inches taller than me and looked a few pounds heavier as well. I was sure however that the weight was from muscle, not fat. He wore black evening clothes that allowed him to blend into the shadows. Besides his white shirt, the only other white he wore was not gloves as I was accustomed to seeing, but a mask. It covered the right side of his face while the left side remained uncovered.
"Who are you?" I asked rather rudely. He blinked and seemed momentarily shocked by my blunt approach. After a moment's hesitation, he smiled slightly and walked towards me, extending his hand as he came.
"Forgive me. My name is Erik Destler," he told me.
"Trying to show that I could be polite, I shook his hand and said, "I'm pleased to meet you Monsieur Destler." He laughed softly and I frowned.
"Call me Erik," he stated.
"Why mother?" I asked after she told me she wanted me to go to the Opera House the next day.
"One of my dreams if for you to perform there someday. It's better for you to get an idea of what it's like now," she answered.
"Perform? I'm not good enough to perform there," I told her.
"Christian! You are most certainly good enough to perform there," she replied.
"Perhaps," I said knowing I couldn't argue but wanting to be modest.
"You should get to bed Christian. You're leaving early tomorrow. Your father is going away on business and he's going to drop you off on his way," she told me.
"Alright. Good night mother," I said and kissed her on the cheek.
"Good night Christian," she said smiling. I walked upstairs to get ready for bed. As I entered my bedroom, I noticed something was wrong. A soft breeze played around my face, and my curtains flapped gently at my open balcony doors. I hadn't opened them before.
"Is someone there?" I called into the darkness. I heard no response so I walked towards my balcony. I went slowly and cautiously, looking around every part of my room. I stepped out onto the balcony and looked out across our property. I could see mother's garden below me.
Suddenly, as I stared into the dark, I felt a hand grabbed the back of my neck and another one cover my nose and mouth with a cloth. I struggled, but I could feel myself weakening. Just before I lost consciousness, I heard a voice. It was so calm and comforting that I felt I had to listen to it.
"Don't worry Christian; you're fine. I won't hurt you," it said. I immediately stopped struggling and listened; hoping the person who had spoken would say more. Their voice was so amazing that even one more word would have sent chills down my spine. "That's good Christian," I heard once I had relaxed. "Very good. Now, what I want you to do is sleep." At that, everything went black, and I knew no more.
When I woke, I found myself in a dim, candlelit room. I was lying on a bed. I looked around and saw a dresser and two doors. I got up off the bed and walked over to the dresser. Sitting on it were a silver handled hairbrush and a small mirror. I picked up the brush and looked at it.
Several long, dark hairs were caught in it. If I hadn't known I wasn't at the chateau, I would have thought the hairs belonged to my mother. I put the brush down and walked to one of the doors. I gripped the handle and tried to open it; it was locked. I tried the second one and found it did open. I cracked it and found a small bathroom. I went in and washed my face then came back out and sat on the edge of the bed. I was staring absently at the dresser when I noticed something carved into its door. I stood up and looked closer; they were letters.
CD
"CD," I whispered, and traced the letters with my finger. Right away one thing, one person, came to mind. "Christine Daae," I murmured, remembering my mother's maiden name had been Daae.
"Very good Christian." The voice behind me made me turn around in shock. I saw no on, yet I was sure I had heard a voice right behind me. Suddenly I saw a shadowed figure step out of a dark corner.
It was a man. He seemed familiar yet I could not tell where I had seen him before. He was perhaps a few inches taller than me and looked a few pounds heavier as well. I was sure however that the weight was from muscle, not fat. He wore black evening clothes that allowed him to blend into the shadows. Besides his white shirt, the only other white he wore was not gloves as I was accustomed to seeing, but a mask. It covered the right side of his face while the left side remained uncovered.
"Who are you?" I asked rather rudely. He blinked and seemed momentarily shocked by my blunt approach. After a moment's hesitation, he smiled slightly and walked towards me, extending his hand as he came.
"Forgive me. My name is Erik Destler," he told me.
"Trying to show that I could be polite, I shook his hand and said, "I'm pleased to meet you Monsieur Destler." He laughed softly and I frowned.
"Call me Erik," he stated.