Disclaimer: Characters belong to Gaston Leroux. Yay.
A/N: All right...I'm adding more to this story. Originally where this story is now going to go was supposed to be a different phic entirely, but since there was such a similarity between the two I decided to merge them into one story. There will be one more chapter after this one if all goes according to plan...
Also, because this story has now been merged with another one I was writing I need to tell you that it is partially based on the novel The Collector by John Fowles.
To everyone who reviewed this story: Thank you so very much! Your reviews were absolutely lovely and a joy to read. I'm very happy to hear that you all enjoyed it! Let me know if you continue to enjoy it...and let me know if you don't too. Thank you!
And here you are, it's story time.
To the Vicomte de Chagny-
I know that you remember me. I did notice you staring, though you believe I didn't see. I wish to tell you that I remember you as well, my dear friend. I would go to you now if I could. If only you would find me here. I am trapped and I do not know if I will ever be free again. I may die without having said a word to you. I hope that you are not distressed by my disappearance. I do so wish I could talk to you now! But no one knows where I am, there is no hope of my being rescued. You'd make a fine knight in shining armour, if only you knew where to find your lost princess.
Christine stopped writing then. Her pen fell from her hand and she covered her eyes. She was crying again. Putting her situation down on paper made it seem so final, as if she really would never be rescued. Never would speak to Raoul! She thought about him often, as she had much time for thinking. The note she was writing him was pointless, she knew he would never see it. But she liked to imagine that there was some way to get it to him.
She jumped as a harsh knock sounded on her door. Her tears burned her eyes as she glared at the door with hatred. Christine had not known hatred before she had been taken away, but now she experienced flashes of what she was sure could be identified as such.
The knock came again, more impatiently then before, and she hastily wiped the tears from her eyes. She took a deep breath to calm herself and then slowly opened the door.
Erik's harsh, yellow eyes met her. He held out his hand and, as always, there was nothing she could do but take it. Without speaking, he lead her to the library, sitting her down in the chair that she had come to refer to as her own.
Christine sat quietly, her hands folded in her lap, eyes on the floor. She bore his gaze without comment, though often he seemed to eye her so fiercely... It frightened her.
After a few moments, he said, "Would you like me to play for you, Christine?"
She looked up immediately. Her hatred of her kidnapper fast melted away at the idea of his beautiful musical. It was the ultimate joy for her, and the only joy she had. She nodded, her eyes shining.
He smiled at her then, only slightly. He seemed amused by her reaction, but she refused to be daunted by this. She wanted him to play!
Erik removed his violin from its worn case and Christine waited eagerly while he tuned it. She loved him this way... Attending to his instrument, being so kind to her, readying himself to play that music that carried her away and filled her soul. Had she truly been angry with him before?
Christine closed her eyes then, as Erik began to play, simply at first, but then the music became more elaborate, assaulting her senses. She sank back in her chair, removing all thought from her mind except for Erik's violin. She savoured this time. She was at peace now, somewhere far away from her underground prison. She was free...
But the music came to an end. Christine shut her eyes more tightly, trying to hold onto those last notes that still seemed to ring in the air. When she could no longer hear them at all, she opened her eyes to find that Erik had already put away the violin and was sitting in the chair opposite her, staring thoughtfully into the fire.
She stared at him, her heart pounding. His music made her forget her situation and at that moment, she wasn't thinking about it. But there was something bothering her...
It was that mask! That black silk that covered his face... Why? She wanted to know...
Perhaps it was the music that still played vaguely in her mind or the warmth of the fire, or perhaps the way Erik's gaze fell so softly, his fingertips pressed together, but he just seemed so approachable. She wanted to ask...what could the harm be in asking?
Taking a deep breath, she began, "Erik?"
He turned his head slowly toward her. "Yes, Christine?" he asked her gently.
She flushed; his tone was so kind. "May I ask you something?"
Erik seemed to consider this for a moment and at last nodded in silent acquiescence.
Christine hesitated briefly, but decided to just ask quickly and before she could change her mind about doing so. "Why do you wear a mask?"
A change came over Erik then, so quickly that Christine barely had time to react before he was out of his chair. Grabbing her wrist roughly, he leaned close to her face. "That, my dear Christine," he growled, "is not for you to know."
He then pulled on her wrist sharply and she let out a cry of pain. This seemed to only make him more angry, but he said nothing and simply dragged her back to her room, shoving her roughly inside.
Her tears of pain and hatred did not seem to move him in the slightest, as he glared at her. "I suggest you do not ask any more questions, Christine."
The door slammed shut and she was left in darkness except for the candles that still flickered on her vanity.
Letting out a cry of despair, she flung herself upon the bed and cried until she had exhausted herself enough to sleep.
Christine awoke much later, her face itched with dried tears. Her fingers clutched the bedclothes fiercely. The terror she had felt when Erik had grabbed her like that, flung her inside the room, was gone now. In its place was anger. Christine was angry. She was furious that she did not have the ability to escape.
Now she was sure, more sure than ever, that she had to escape. She was more sure than ever that staying in this place would eventually result in her death. The thought made her shudder. However beautiful Erik's music was, it was quite clear that his temper was that furious and terrifying.
She knew where the door was, the door that would lead to her freedom. It was the means of opening it that eluded her.
But then... Even if she did manage to get out of the house, surely she would be lost in the catacombs. No, she had to get out. Perhaps she could just scream and pray that the sound would carry upwards to someone who could help her.
Christine stood up and crept to the door. Easing it open, she looked around the sitting room. There was no sign of Erik. She continued to search through the other rooms of the house, though she avoided Erik's room. Her thoughts of death did not make her eager to lay eyes on that coffin.
It did seem as if Erik was not at home, which was normal for this time. Christine began to tremble as she crossed the sitting room to where the front door was concealed. Running her fingers along the wall, she could just feel the minute crack that outlined the door. Now she just had to figure out how to open it!
Her fingers explored all around the area searching for something, a switch, a catch, something that would make the door open.
At last she found something, though it didn't exactly relieve her situation. About where a doorknob would have gone on a normal door, there was a small hole. It seemed to Christine that some sort of key could be inserted to make the door open. But where could she find it? Would Erik even have an extra one? There really was no need... But even he could misplace a key and would surely need to have another on hand... Or perhaps the door opened in a different manner on the outside so the key would be in the house...
Her heart began to pound furiously now. If she did find the key...she could escape this very night!
Certain now that Erik was not in the house, she ran straight into his study and looked around wildly. Where would he keep an extra key? It was then that she spotted a hook on the wall, there were keys hanging from it! She grabbed the ring down, almost dropping the keys in her excitement. She was not daunted by the fact that there were so many. She hardly minded going through them!
But as she looked them over, her heart began to sink. Every single one of them seemed to just be a normal key, for a normal door, not one that could fit inside that strange keyhole she had found. After checking them all very carefully, she replaced them on the hook with a sigh.
Her eyes turned to his large, mahogany desk, next. However, before she actually opened any of the drawers, she hurried through the house once more, to be sure it still remained empty. The last thing she needed was to be caught going through Erik's things!
Once back in the study, she opened the top drawer and began to dig through it. There were drawings, papers she didn't try to understand, but there was no key. She searched the other drawers, becoming more and more desperate with each one. She didn't know where else to look if she couldn't find the key here!
Christine had lost hope of finding it when she reached the last drawer. She reached all the way to the back and was surprised when her finger brushed a soft material, rather than endless paper. She grabbed at it and pulled it from the drawer.. It was a small, silk pouch, gold in colour, with purple embroidery. With shaking hands she pulled at the drawstring and looked inside. There were four keys! One was very large, brass, and looked more like it would open a gate of some sort rather than any kind of door. But the other three...they were shaped so oddly. One of the them had to open the front door!
She ran with the pouch through the house and removed one of the smaller, odd shaped keys. Her attempt to shove it into the small hole failed. It wouldn't fit. But there were two still left! There was another key that was extremely similar to the one she had just tried, so she opted for the last choice.
Slowly, fearing it wouldn't fit, she eased the key into the slot. It went in easily. Christine nearly shrieked in joy. She had found the key!
Swiftly, she turned it and the door swung open. Freedom was right in front of her! All she had to do was step out the door.
Christine was about to do just that when a voice came from behind her.
"Going out, are we?"
Christine froze, the voice behind her seeming to turn her entire body to ice. She didn't dare to turn around.
A soft cry she could not suppress escaped her when deathly cold fingers wrapped themselves around her shoulder, touching the bare skin by her neck.
"Turn around, Christine," he commanded, softly, but firmly.
Now trembling all over, she slowly turned to face him. He didn't look angry and that frightened her terribly.
"You're trying to escape me," he said, stating that obvious fact.
His fingers gripped her shoulder tightly and she nodded helplessly, too afraid to even cry. Perhaps he would kill her now...
"Oh Christine..." he whispered, sadly.
Christine looked up at him in surprise, not sure what to make of his sadness.
"Haven't I given you everything?" Erik asked her gently.
She knew he meant all of the material things he had given her; the gowns, the shoes, perfume, hair combs, books and stationary...yes, Erik had given her all of that and would have bought her anything on her request. But that wasn't what she wanted! No, she didn't want any of that. She wanted to get out, to see the sky, to feel the sun, smell the air... Tears gathered in her eyes just thinking of those things that she had taken so for granted.
Erik saw her tears and slowly released her shoulder, raising his fingers to her cheek to brush them away.
"What do you want, Christine?"
He asked her so kindly that Christine began to weep in earnest. He already had control over her with his music... Would he now have control over her always? Would he force her to love him?
Christine covered her face to hide her tears, dropping them when she had recovered enough to speak. Erik waited patiently for her answer.
At last she managed to whisper, "I want to see the sky."
Erik's look hardened immediately, he was no longer kind. "I'm afraid that is quite impossible."
But Christine refused to accept that answer. No longer caring what he might do to her, she grabbed his arm and pleaded.
"Please, Erik, I beg of you... Take me outside! I'll do anything you like. It could be at night and I won't run away. I promise I won't! Please, Erik, please," she wept.
Erik seemed almost not to listen to her, instead focusing on her hands on his arm. When she had finished, he was silent for many minutes. At last, he gently pulled his arm from her grasp and said, "I'll consider it."
"Thank you," Christine replied, as sincerely as possible, hardly believing what he had just said. Then she all but ran back to her room before he could do anything else.
"You've defied me, Christine," Erik said quietly after her. "You will not be forgiven so easily."
A/N: Thank you so much for reading. Please review!