Oh, the horror!
teehee!
I only make bad things happen to serve a purpose...you'll see after you read this...
Thanks again for the AWESOME reviews!
The Opera house was burning.
Christine ran through the narrow passageways, choking on the thick black smoke that was rapidly filling the structure.
"Erik!" She screamed, finding herself suddenly inside the chapel, the bright orange flames melting the stained glass windows.
She choked again on the smoke, her eyes clouding her vision.
"Christine!"
A voice was calling to her.
"Christine, wake up!"
Christine's eyes shot open.
The mansion was on fire.
"Erik, my god!" Christine sat straight up, frantically scrambling out of bed. "Where's Madeline, what's going on?"
"I'm right here, Mama!" Madeline cried, her little arms wrapped around Erik's right leg. "I'm scared Mama! Our house...it's on fire!"
"Christine, come now!" Erik ordered, pulling her to his side, scooping up a now crying Madeline into his arms.
The three ran from the master bedroom to the top of the stairs.
"My god!" Christine exclaimed, looking down the elaborate stone stairwell.
The entire ground level was consumed by flames.
"Erik, how is this possible?" Christine yelled over the roar of the fire. "It's all stone...the entire house is stone!"
Erik's eyes darted from his wife to the ground floor, his rage growing. "We have to get out of here," he replied, his voice a growl.
He grasped Christine's hand once more and led her down the hallway back towards the music room, holding Madeline tightly to his body.
The music room remained untouched by the flames, but Erik knew it was only a matter of time before that too was destroyed.
He closed the doors to the room behind him, handing Madeline to Christine.
"What are we going to do?" Christine demanded. Erik moved quickly towards one of the stained glass windows.
He looked to her but did not reply. Instead, he picked up his beloved piano bench with amazing strength.
Christine covered Madeline's ears as she realized what her husband was about to do.
With a cry of rage and determination, Erik heaved the bench at the window, shattering it into a million tiny pieces.
He moved quickly, grasping a blanket from the chaise lounge and placing it on the window, covering the sharp shards of glass that remained in the sill.
He leaned out, assessing the situation.
The window opening led to a particularly flat section of roof. Erik's eyes surveyed the area, looking for a way to the ground.
His insides clenched as he realized there was only one way down.
They were going to have to ease down the thin metal drainpipes.
"Christine," Erik called to her, motioning for her to come to the window. Christine obeyed, her eyes wide. "We must go down the drain pipes," he said.
"Erik..." Christine stammered. "How..how are we going to do that?"
"Carefully," he answered. "Madeline," he took his daughter from Christine. "You must be brave," he told her, wiping the tears from her cheeks. "I want you to hold onto to my neck as tightly as possible...don't let go, no matter how frightened you become. Do you understand?"
Madeline nodded. "Papa," she said, forcing herself to stop crying. "What about your piano?"
Erik's heart wrenched as he squeezed the small child. She knew that the piano was his most prized possession, the center of many happy times for her father and mother. "Do not worry about the piano, Maddy," he said to her. "There will be others."
Madeline's lip quivered, saddened by the prospect of her father loosing the one non-living thing that meant the most to him.
A loud crack caused the three to turn and face the doors, which were now splitting and splintered underneath flames.
"Christine, you go first...now," Erik said. Christine nodded, lifting a bare foot over the windowsill. She eased herself down, dropping onto the roof carefully.
"Close your eyes, Maddy," he instructed. "This will all be over soon."
She obliged, squeezing her lids closed and grasping her father's neck tightly.
Erik moved swiftly, joining Christine on the roof.
Slowly, they moved to the drainage pipe, which, to Erik's dismay, was even thinner than it appeared several moments ago.
He knelt, pulling at the pipe, ensuring it was safely fastened to the structure.
"I shall go first," He said to Christine.
"Hold on tightly, Madeline!" She said, watching as the child's small arms tightened around Erik's neck.
Erik swung a well muscled led over the edge of the house, grasping the drainage pole between his hands.
He was used to such activities, having spent most of his life manipulating the ropes and rafters of his former home.
Once Erik was a few feet below her, Christine followed, holding herself to the pole tightly.
Slowly, painfully, the trio eased down the pole. Christine's arms were burning from the physical activity.
After what seemed like an eternity, Erik's feet found the grass.
Christine was still a bit above him. As she got closer, he pulled her from the pipe into his arms, holding her tightly, her hair fluttering about his face as his breath came heavily.
As soon as he put her down, she reached for Madeline.
Erik handed the child to her, taking a moment to catch his breath.
"Madeline," Christine cooed. "You can open your eyes."
Madeline cracked her right eye open just a bit.
They went wide as she looked up.
Smoke was billowing from the mansion. The flames had spread to the entire structure.
"We must move away," Erik said, hurrying Christine and Madeline a safe distance from the home.
When they stopped, Christine could not help the tears that began to stream down her face. She felt Erik's arm steal around her.
The three stood in silence, watching as the contents of their happy home were slowly destroyed by what looked like the devil himself.
Madame Giry pulled her dark robe over her night shift quickly.
Someone was banging on her door.
She placed a hand on the doorknob, about to turn it when she remembered her safety.
"Who's there?" She demanded.
"Madame Giry! It's Christine!"
The door flung open.
There, in the hallway stood Christine, Madeline, and Erik.
All in their nightclothes.
Mme Giry motioned them in quickly, lest someone spied Erik, whose white mask glinted against the soot that covered all three.
"I'm so sorry, Madame," Christine said, hurrying inside, holding Madeline tight to her chest. "We had no where else to go."
Madame Giry immediately grabbed blankets from her own bed, draping one around the shivering Christine and Madeline and handing the other to Erik, who nodded at her in appreciation.
"What has happened?" Madame Giry asked.
"Our home…there was a fire…" Christine managed, tears forming again.
"Dear God!" Madame Giry exclaimed. "How did it start?"
"It must have been set intentionally, Madame," Erik said. "Our home is made of stone; only a well-calculated plan involving chemicals could have created flames such as the ones we saw."
His eyes met hers knowingly.
"I understand," she said.
She moved closer to Madeline, smiling warmly.
"Hello again, dear child," she said, running a finger down a chubby cheek.
"Hi," Madeline managed.
"It appears you will be our guest for some time," she told the little girl. "At least until your home is repaired."
Madeline nodded. "Papa's piano got burned up," she told Madame Giry.
"Better the piano than you, Madeline," Madame Giry replied. She raised her eyes to Christine, placing a warm hand on her cheek.
"We will figure out the arrangements in the morning," she told the woman who was like a daughter to her. "For now, you three shall take my room; I will join Meg in hers."
Christine embraced Madame Giry with her free arm. "Thank you," she whispered.
Madame Giry moved over to Erik, who was looking anxious and uncomfortable within the walls of the Opera Populaire. "You needn't worry, Erik," Madame Giry told him. "I will ensure your presence is kept secret."
Erik relaxed slightly. "Thank you," he said. "For harboring me once again."
Madame Giry smiled. "It seems to be my lot in life," she replied.
Raoul watched from his hiding place behind the front gates as the mansion burned into the night.
He had not seen them escape.
He smiled, a warped expression that frightened even the horse he sat atop.
It had almost been too easy.
They were gone, dead…surely burning in hell for their sins.
The first part of his plan was complete.
