Disclaimer: The characters in this story are in no way mine and I don't claim to own them either, so there.
A/N: Hello everyone! This is a really random little thing I wrote one day when I just felt like it. It's for the most part…completely pointless. But I hope you will read and tell me what you think anyway! Thank you very much :)
People who make music together cannot be enemies, at least while the music lasts.
Christine opened her eyes slowly and yawned. Sitting up, she stretched a little and rubbed her eyes to awaken herself fully. Suddenly she froze as a realization hit her. She did not know where she was…
The room was unfamiliar to her. The large, dark wood canopy bed she sat on, the dresser and vanity to match, the small fireplace set in the wall, the velvet chair before it… Her breathing became more rapid and she stood up, rather unsteady, the carpeting soft beneath her feet. The room was surely the most beautiful bedroom she had ever seen and it was filled with the scent of roses, coming from a vase of them on the vanity. She went over to them, her face crossed with fear and curiosity. Christine brought her hand up to gently touch one of the delicate flowers. She could feel the silk of the petals…they were real. Her hand moved to the silver comb that lay on the vanity as well, to the bottle of perfume beside that, to the small hand mirror laying face down… They were all real. The room was real. She moved to the wardrobe and flung open the doors. She gasped as her eyes filled with the sight of at least ten different gowns, more beautiful than she had ever owned, in every color she could want.
Christine abruptly closed the doors again and leaned her back against the wardrobe, using the large piece of furniture to support herself. She closed her eyes and muttered, "This is a dream…"
But when she opened her eyes again, the room remained. How had she gotten here? She struggled to remember what had happened the night before. The performance… She had triumphed! Her angel had come to her... Christine's hand flew to her mouth. She remembered now. He had called to her and she had followed. They had sung together, so joyously she found it hard to believe she had forgotten it. That music she had witnessed and taken part in last night… No one had ever heard such beauty, such…passion. The feeling she had had began to come back to her. She clutched her chest and attempted to breath normally.
Her angel… He was here! He had brought her to this place. Christine looked around the room and spotted the door. She walked towards it slowly, feeling as if her legs would give way at any moment. She would see her angel face to face… He was out there, right through that door. Turning the knob she pushed open the door a crack. She let out a sigh when it did not make any noise. For some reason she felt that she must be silent. She did not want to disturb her angel in any way.
She looked around the door before opening it all the way. Outside she found a surprisingly normal looking sitting room. There was no sign of anyone. Hesitantly, she stepped out of the room and carefully closed the door behind her. She crept further into the room grateful for the Persian rug that muffled the sound of her footsteps. She felt as if she were intruding, but there seemed to be no one about… She looked around and saw that there were several doors in the room.
Christine crossed the room, wishing her skirt didn't make so much noise, and opened the door opposite the bedroom she had woken up in. Looking inside she saw a grand piano dominating the room. On the other side there were large bookshelves filled with what seemed to be an infinite amount of books. The sight baffled her. She couldn't imagine anyone loving books so much. But as she looked around from the doorway, she saw that this room too looked entirely normal. How could an angel live so normally?
She backed away and closed the door. She still felt rather like she was poking around where she shouldn't be. But the house did seem empty, so she figured there was no harm in looking around if she was not going to be caught.
Moving in front of the large, stone fireplace, she reached another door. When Christine placed her hand on the doorknob a shiver went through her, as if something was telling her to stay out. But her curiosity got the better of her and the door swung open at her touch.
For several moments she remained completely still, her breathing seemed to have stopped. Her mouth hung open slightly as she gazed incomprehensibly inside the room. She was staring at what was without a doubt…a coffin. Her legs moved forward toward it. She couldn't resist getting a closer look. It was horrifying to see this object of death in an angel's home, but she couldn't stop herself. It looked to her as if it was raised up on a wooden…pedestal almost. And there were deep red curtains canopying it. It was so frightening. Surely there must be a mistake. Why would there be a coffin? Here in this house? At last she shook herself and turned quickly to hurry out of the room. But as she turned she saw an enormous pipe organ that took up an entire wall. She had been so entranced by the horror of the coffin she hadn't even glanced at it. But last night…there had been an organ. She had been in this room with the coffin and not even realized it! Tears she could not explain came to her eyes and suddenly she wanted nothing more than to get out of the room. She practically ran the distance to the door and slammed it shut behind her, forgetting to be quiet. She closed her eyes and slumped against it, grateful to be back in the friendlier atmosphere of the sitting room.
"Christine…"
Christine smiled in relief. The voice of her angel… Not looking up at him, she ran to him and sunk against him with her hands on his chest. She did not notice him stiffen, did not notice his sudden heavy breathing or his rapid heartbeat. She did not look up and see the look of shock and longing in his eyes.
"Angel!" she cried. "Oh that room there! It was terrible! I…" she stopped though, for then she had looked up expecting to see her angel's handsome face that she had been sure she had seen the night before. But instead all she saw was a black silk mask.
She gasped and backed away from him, her mouth open in horror. There was a man before her, just a man. A man in a mask…
"Who are you?" she asked, trying to keep the fear from her voice and failing.
"It is all right, Christine," the man said softly, taking a step toward her.
Christine backed away, putting her hand up as if to stop him. "Please," she whimpered. "Why have you brought me here?"
"Do not be afraid," he said. "Do you not know your angel?"
She swallowed hard. It was her angel's voice. But this…he was a man! He had taken her away.
"Angel?" she whispered.
The man nodded once.
Christine shook her head. "How…how can this be?"
"Do not be afraid," he repeated. "No harm will come to you."
She felt her shoulders relax slightly at his words. There was something in his voice…that beautiful, intoxicating voice…that made her believe him.
She bit her lip and said slowly, "You…you are not an angel."
The man before her sighed almost inaudibly. "No, Christine."
Christine glared at him suddenly. "You are a man! You kidnapped me!"
He flinched as if the words had caused him pain. But then he met her gaze, his eyes flashing. "No," he said vehemently. "You came with me. I offered my hand…" he said, holding it out to her. "And you took it."
Christine, drawn by the sound of his voice, stepped forward and took his hand. But a moment later she came to and wrenched her hand away. "Why did you bring me here?" she demanded.
"Oh Christine…" he said softly. His hand came up and traced the air beside her cheek. Her eyes widened, he was so close to touching her…
But his hand dropped without making contact. Christine stood frozen where she stood. The man turned away from her.
"You wanted an angel, Christine. You called for one, and I answered." He turned back to her. "How could I have resisted your voice, Christine? I knew you could be great. I knew that if someone could just mold your voice, train it properly… It would be the most glorious sound on this earth. You proved that I had been right last night. You were a triumph, Christine."
His words seemed to wash over her without causing any real effect. Why had he taken her to his home? Where was his home? Why did he choose her?
"Please…" she said. "Who are you…really?"
"My name is Erik," he answered simply.
Christine nodded, accepting this fact.
"You are frightened still," Erik said.
"Why did you bring me here?" she asked again, not responding to his statement.
He took a step closer to her and she felt a sudden surge of fear and joy at the same time. "I have watched you for so long, Christine. I have wanted you for so long…"
His voice trailed off and the only sound left was Christine's rapid breathing. She was growing more and more frightened at every moment. Surely this man was mad…
Desperate to say something, anything to find a normal response from him she asked, "Where are we?"
Erik gestured around the room. "This is my home. We are five cellars below the opera."
Christine's hand flew to her mouth. How was that possible? Why would someone live underground?
"I don't understand," she managed to say.
"It is quite simple really," Erik explained. "I cannot live among men, they have shunned me and I them. I have no desire to be part of their race again." Suddenly his tone changed. His voice became lower, more hypnotic. "But you Christine, you are different from them. You will see me as what I really am. You will love me."
Christine gaped at the man before her. She couldn't understand what he was saying to her. Love?
"You love me…" she breathed.
Erik then held out his hand to her and again she could not resist taking it. Locking his eyes with hers he led her back into the room with the coffin. But Christine, like the night before, did not notice it. He dropped her hand when they reached the organ. He sat down and began to play. Christine closed her eyes and let the haunting sound wash over her, move through her.
"Sing," he commanded.
And with that word Christine was his. She sang for him again as she had last night. She became aware of him singing with her. The sound they created seemed as though it must come from heaven itself. Surely such a sound could not be created by mortal beings. Christine felt nothing except the feeling that she was flying, spinning out in space surrounded by sound and notes. Nothing existed tangibly, she felt nothing…
Like all things do, the music came to an end. Christine fell to the ground, weeping silently into her hands. Her emotions had lifted her so high and when the last note died she had been dropped back to reality. She knelt crying for several moments until she heard Erik stand.
He offered his hand and helped her to her feet. "Come, my dear. You must rest."
The music, the sound, the beauty rung in Christine's ears as she made her way back to her room. Erik led her there, showing her a small button that had to be pushed for the door to open from the outside. Before going inside, she turned and looked up into Erik's eyes. She felt herself overcome by an incredible longing for him, a passion she had never felt before. She loved him…
Unconsciously she moved into the room and collapsed onto the bed, dimly aware of Erik shutting the door behind her. She felt as though she would never rise again. It took a very short amount of time for her to fall fast asleep.
Christine awoke much later, her face streaked with dried tears. She rose from the bed stiffly and tried to smooth her wrinkled dress. She gave up and remembered the wardrobe in the room filled with gowns. She opened the doors to it and wondered how she could ever choose just one. At last she made a decision and pulled it from the wardrobe. The color was a soft pink; similar to the style of her own gown, but much more detailed and made of finer material. She decided that she had never seen so beautiful a dress.
She emerged from the room and closed the door behind her. Erik seemed to appear at her side immediately. She jumped at the sight of him. For some reason a surge of anger went through her. He had some strange power over her and she hated him for it.
"Are you hungry?" he asked her.
She narrowed her eyes at such a normal question and nodded slowly.
"Come," he said and led her through to an elegant dining room.
What followed was a dinner spent in silence. As soon as he set her dinner down in front of her she found herself starving and ate every bite. Erik did not eat and she felt uncomfortable under his gaze throughout the whole ordeal.
After she had finished, he stood and again repeated the command, "Come." She was beginning to hate the way he said it and the fact that she could not refuse him even if she had wanted to.
He led her to the library and told her that she could pick any book she liked. Christine went to the shelves and spent a good while going through all of the titles, sometimes pulling out the books and examining them. The collection really was wonderful. At last she found a novel that looked enjoyable enough. She sat down with it in a large armchair in front of the fire. Erik sat down in the other chair, positioned to face her slightly. He had a book of his own. Christine watched him for a long time. Her book lay open in her lap. If he looked up at her she planned to immediately look down as if she were caught up in the novel she had chosen. She didn't want to be caught staring at him. But Erik did not seem to notice or at least pretended not to notice. Christine studied his appearance carefully. He was obviously a man of great wealth. His suit was very formal and fine, tailored exactly to fit his curiously lean form. Even sitting down, Christine could tell how tall he was. She wondered why his height had not yet intimidated her…but perhaps he had simply chosen not to use that advantage against her. She tried not to stare at the mask, she truly did…but it was useless. She stared openly at it then. Why would this man wear a mask? What was he trying to hide? His voice was so beautiful, so rich, so…perfect… Surely he was just as beautiful as his voice. But why wear a mask then? Why live so far underground? Fear suddenly gripped Christine and she looked down at her book quickly. Tears gathered in her eyes, blurring the words on the pages before her. She was frightened and alone with this man. He could kill her and no one would ever know…
Christine stared down at the book in her lap, wild, terrifying thoughts running through her mind, even though she tried her best to banish them. At last Erik shut his book and said to her, "I think it is time you went to bed, my dear. It is getting very late."
Christine nodded and obeyed him without a word. She lay in bed that night, in the nightgown she had found folded neatly in the dresser. She stared up at the ceiling, tears coursing down her cheeks. She hated him…
The next day passed in the same manner. Erik would be the perfect gentleman; he would read with her, talk with her, play the violin for her. It was very peaceful and soothing. It was all so simple, the time she spent with him. He treated her with every kindness. But, she could feel a darkness in him at times when he came near her. It frightened her.
But then they would sing together. The glorious sound of their voices entwining together threw all sense and thought from Christine's head. And oh how she loved him. She wanted him, she needed him… How could she have possibly lived before without this experience?
But the music always came to an end. And again she found herself trapped with him. A man who had stolen her away, claiming he loved her and that she would love him as well…
Christine was emotionally exhausted always. She hated him for doing this to her. She could not bear it. But when the music played, she loved him so fiercely she thought she would burst.
One day, after they had sung and the last note had faded, she collapsed onto her bed as she always did. But she did not fall asleep. She couldn't. She couldn't stand it for another day. She wept in that room. She realized that she was trapped. No one would find her so far away from the world.
Staring up at the ceiling, she said in an empty whisper, "I shall never escape this place."
A/N: All right, yes, that was just strange and random… But there it is! I'm shocked that I actually had the nerve to post this…lol. Thank you so much for reading! Please Review :)