Chapter VI

                For the second time this day, the sudden change when emerging into the atmosphere of the cellar had a profound affect on my senses.  Yes, it was the second time that day…But what had I told Christine?  That it was already morning…That the boy I had killed had made haste and run about Paris spreading malicious lies to save himself and destroy her world…That I was now her only refuge in life, her only answer.  She had believed it all and all were lies.  It was not yet eleven o'clock, less than eight hours since she had first arrived and so daintily left that embossed envelope on my dust-covered piano and I had closed the doors to her…forever.  And as far as Paris was concerned, the young Vicomte and his fiancée were still enjoying a flawless engagement…A pity he had to go and die…

                But the change in temperature was enough to slow the beating of my heart…And the strident stench of smoke and burnt oil was enough to clear the clouds from my mind…And the loud screaming was just about enough to drive me insane…

                Someone was yelling in my cellar!  Crying out my very name in a tone filled with wrath and anxiety. 

                I recognized the voice, distorted as it was by its volume, before I recognized the figure swathed in the shadows of the lingering smoke not twenty feet from my very door.

                This was not a visitor I could say I was pleased to see.  Though whom else could I have expected?  My old friend, the Daroga, has always found a way of interfering in my affairs…But this was one ploy he was too late to stop.

                He passed directly before me, taking no note of my presence and continued to call out into the dark, demanding my audience.  I had had enough of shouting meddlers for one day and no more tricks up my sleeve.  This meeting, I concluded, would have to be ended simply and efficiently.  If he was here now, then he must know what had transpired earlier, and I highly doubted he had come to congratulate me.

"Erik!"

                Then what was his purpose here?  Did he think he would actually accomplish anything?  He was practically fuming as he turned at the edge of the lake and began to make his way back up near the wall.

"I know you are here."

                So you are a psychic now? The echoes of his voice were only serving to increase the pounding in my head and I was becoming more than annoyed.

"Did you think I wouldn't notice—"

                My voice, filled with weary annoyance, broke through his, cutting short his words.  "Don't you fear for your life, old man?"

                He paused, stopping where he stood.  He did not look for me…He had learned by now that when I did not wish to be seen, there was no use in trying. 

"I don't know.  Should I?"

                I could sense the vagueness in my own reply as I leaned back against the wall, still trying to catch my breath.  "Yes...You probably should..."

                He looked confused as if he had not expected me to answer that way.  "What's wrong with you?"

                My answer was a stern "Nothing."  The tone such a contrast to what he had heard a second ago that even I realized what I had betrayed of my state.  But already I could tell that I was frustrating him beyond endurance.  He was in no mood to play games.

"I just suppose it takes a lot out of you to set the lake on fire," he snapped rhetorically.

                I did not answer for a moment, considering what he said.  He had seen then…or at least enough to draw conclusions.  He did not seem to care about letting me know that fact.  My answering words had returned to the casual indifferent tone that just coincidentally seemed to irritate him.

"No, it was quite simple, actually."

"As was killing the Vicomte," he snapped.  An overconfident edge came to his features, and I realized he was looking directly at me.  I know for a fact that he could not see me, yet somehow he understood exactly where I was.  He amended his statement with the words that caught me more off guard than any: "Or attempting to, rather."

                Unexpected! 

                I clenched my fists, forcing myself to remain where I was.  He moved back as if he expected me to appear, but only my voice met him, stipulating with all of its severity.  "He is alive?"

                It was as if I could hear his very thoughts…'Yes, Erik. I know.  Your scheme was not as perfect as you thought it was.  In fact, it failed.  You should know that.  You cannot control everyone's destinies as easily as you would wish.'  How dare you!  How dare you think so!  You must realize that these words you have spoken in the heat of aggravation have put the Vicomte de Chagny in more danger than he has ever been.  In my hands or any other.  But what was said was said, was it not?  You realize this.  Is that why you remain so cool? 

"Yes.  He is not in a good state, but he is alive."

"Where?"  The question was an order for a response.  I demanded again, before he could answer, "Where is he?"

"Why should I tell you that?"  he cried out in brazenness, cracking his collected demeanor.  "Do you plan to send him flowers?  I know what you would do if I told you.  I am not a fool."

                Clenching my teeth in silence, I used all of my will to control myself as my hands itched in anger for vengeance.  When I did speak, it was with complete control.

"No matter.  I know where he is."

"You didn't even know he was alive," he retorted quickly, knowing not to be taken in by my mental manipulation.

"He could not have lived on his own.  You helped him." 

                I had triggered the right wire, and he exploded.  "Of course I helped him! Do you think I would just let him die!?"

                I yelled back, my fury matching his, echoing from all corners of the cellar.  "You are a fool to meddle in my affairs!" 

                Faster than he could perceive and I could grasp, I was upon him, my hands at his throat. 

"I should kill you for that!"

                Staring down at him, it was like a mirror.  I could see myself reflected in the expression on his face…My own glowing eyes burned with rage that was unnatural even for me.   I released him with disgust, withdrawing as quickly as I had set upon him.  For once I did not second guess the level of cold hatred in my voice as I spoke from where I stood.  "And know that if you try to do so again, I will.  It is not an empty threat this time, Daroga. I will kill you."

                I could see that he knew as well as I did that that this was a promise I meant to keep.  But he merely stared at me without fear…Only a simple and piteous sadness.  "Why did you do it, Erik?"

                His words and his looks made me sick with repulsion and loathing. 

"I owed him the favor."

"He and Miss Daaé were engaged, were they not?  You had let them go!  I had believed you cared for her best interest that once…and now you turn and kill her fiancé!"

"It was a brief period of misunderstanding."

                It is useless, my one-time friend-turned enemy.  Give up now.

"Is she with you, Erik?"

"That is none of your business."

"Does she know what happened to Raoul?"

                I could only laugh at the absurdity of the question.  Why even ask?  Attempting to make example of my deception, are you?

"Answer me," he ordered, firmly.

"She is not concerned with him."

"Not for her own fiancé?  She loves him dearly, Erik.  You know that as well as I."

                I did not feel like responding to that and turned, walking to the edge of the lake. Distinctly, I surveyed the damage left by the fire, focusing minutely on the fine details of the destruction.  The black soot left rims around the water's edge and I noticed the very level of the lake had lowered some few centimeters here.  Interesting…I did not think those flames that extinguished in less than ten minutes had produced enough heat to cause such evaporation.  There must have been some other explanation for the phenomenon.  As I was absently pondering the possibilities, The Nuisance approached, remaining a few steps behind me and truncated my musings.

"I do not know what you are doing, but I cannot imagine it is anything better then what you have done before.  I know she is with you."

                I turned and looked back at him.  She is with me…Christine.  With me now and with me forever.  I could feel it again…Conquer my entire being…Had those moments been such a short time ago?  We had held each other in an embrace of trust and security…After waiting for so long…Suffering so much longing…

                He noticed the change in me after having mentioned her and leapt at the opportunity to gain ground on this checkered battlefield.  "And looking at you now it's obvious something has happened."

                My eyes leveled with his.  "Nothing has happened.  She wants to stay with me."

                He studied me for a moment, silently, and I let him.  Then began, as if in concession, "I will go…when Christine Daaé tells me these things herself."

                I laughed, but it sounded forced even to my own ears.  My words were sharp.  "No, you will go right now.  And you will never come back down here."

"No, let me see for myself that Christine is not being kept here against her will!  Then I will never bother you about her again.  I won't even let Raoul charge back down here.  Although I think you might put an end to him yourself, and I really wish you wouldn't."

                I laughed again, but this time the sound came freely and I had no need to force it.  "Oh yes, he certainly will not be charging back down here again."

                He stopped suddenly, as if he thought he had caught onto something.  "If she wants to stay, then why would you kill Raoul?"

                Do you honestly think I would allow advance on your part, pitiful fool?  My answer is more casual than before.  "Why kill him? Why not? I gave him fair warning."

                He contemplated a moment, as if he were playing a game of chess and must need to strategically choose his next move.  It was his poor sportsmanship that his decided words were so ill-chosen. 

"You're afraid..."

                Wrong move, Daroga. You lose.  My eyes immediately narrowed and I hissed with threat, "Get out."

"This is wrong," he insisted.

"Before I do something worse to you than I did to the Vicomte," I continued, unphased.

"Do not do this, Erik." 

"Go now.  And if you ever come back down here, it will be your last hour alive."

                He cried out in exasperation, discrediting his efforts to reason with me.  "Damn you!  If you love her, why deceive her so?"

                I began to advance on him and he knew well my intent.  It was a tremendous effort to restrain myself from quenching him of his life at that very moment.  I spoke through gritted teeth as I drew closer to him.  One last warning before you force me to call checkmate.  "You do not know what you are saying, old man.  Get out before I find I cannot dismiss your words."

                He forfeited.  Wise choice.  His eye leveled with mine, and spoke flatly: "As you wish." 

                Waiting for no response from me, he turned and went back toward the boat.  I did not take my eye from him until he had finished crossing and begun his way up the ascent, disappearing from my intense line of sight.  Only once I was positive that he was gone did I turn, in fuming anger to return to my house. 

~~~~~~~~~******~~~~~~~~~******~~~~~~~~~

                So dark was my anger that I saw nothing as I stalked into the room.  I resisted the powerful urge to take up a large object and hurl it against the opposite wall. 

                I barely heard her trembling voice when she spoke.

"…Is everything alright?"

                At Christine's terribly soft question, I whirled around, glaring, and saw her standing the same place I had last seen her.  For a moment I did not even realize why she was there.  My actions and anger startled her and she shrunk back at my stare, her eyes widening in both sudden fear and surprise.

                Then it registered in my mind.  Instantly shocked, I realized the fear in her, and my demeanor immediately softened.  I exhaled slowly, desperately attempting to gather my thoughts.  She stepped back, moving toward her room as I took slow breaths, trying to best compose myself.  I only watched as she left, but once she had closed and latched the bedroom door behind her, I followed. 

                Christine…Forgive me…I would never…But this time I did know what had come over me.  I put my hand against the hard surface of the door, but only dropped my head, feeling the hot anger and shame at having frightened her so carelessly.

                My fingers curled into a fist, and I beat it against my side, turning away from the door and flung myself into a chair.

                I was furious with myself!  How could I have let that boy live?  Would it have taken so much effort to have assured myself that he was dead and incapable of revival?  But how could I have known…But that was no excuse!  I had been careless!  I had been cocky!  Take no chances!  It would not happen again.  The situation was not irreparable…In fact, quite easily remedied.  The next time I killed the Vicomte de Chagny, I would make most certain he was dead.  It did not matter how.  There were infinite ways of going about the matter.  Some more amusing and effective than others…

                Leaning over, I dropped my head into my hands.  Was it curse or fate that the man who had informed me of my mistake be forever my undoing?  It did not matter.  His words would affect my conscience no more and his deeds were powerless against me.  There was nothing he could do…Nor any person. 

                But what could a collective of people do?  Did not that insolent prick threaten to return with an army of men to rescue the poor frightened maiden?  I had defeated man's armies before; it would not be so difficult.  But how would I explain the situation to Christine?  It might not be so simple to blind her to the adversity…Now she believed what I had told her. 

                She must continue to believe my words.