Chapter 8

Phantom's POV

She allowed me to comfort her. I wasn't sure why, but I didn't dare question it. I let my hand slowly slide from her face, down to her neck. She tenses slightly. I say softly, "Relax." Her breathing is becoming shallow, she's nervous. I stroke her neck lightly, trying to calm her. I let my hand drop lower, and brush the tops of her breasts. She tries to sit up then, but I hold her to me, and say soothingly, "Don't think. Just give in to it." I begin to sing, trying to make her calm.

Nighttime sharpens
Heightens each sensation

I drop my hand and settle it on her stomach. It rises and falls quickly. Running my hand across her waist, I lean in and sing in her ear. Her eyes are closed.


Darkness stirs and wakes the imagination
Silently the senses abandon their defenses

I rest my hand heavily on her breasts. I can feel her heartbeat quicken. As I sing, I let my lips brush her cheek.

Slowly, gently, night unfurls its splendor
Grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender

I shift and move back behind her, pulling her to lie up against my chest. I let one hand rest on her stomach and the other cradle the side of her neck.


Turn your face way from the garish light of day
Turn your thoughts away from cold unfeeling light
And listen to the music of the night

I kiss the top of her head. "Why did you stop?" She murmurs. I sigh, "It's… It's not the right time, Christine." She says quietly, "Oh." I take one of her hands, "Besides, I need to tend to your hands." I move out from behind her and stand up. She is still as I light a candle and bring it to the bedside. I examine her hands. The old bandages were dried onto the wounds. I finger the new long gashes on her palm. She had made those. I sigh, and begin to remove the bandages.

She winces and looks away, her face twisted in pain. I try to work quickly and carefully. She says through clinched teeth, "I… I ruined your cape. I'm sorry." I had seen the cloak already. I grab a clean cloth to stop the bleeding in the reopened wounds. "It's just a cape, Christine. It can be replaced." I pour cleaning solution over her hand. She tries to pull her hand away. I blow on her palm, "I know this hurts, but it has to be done. We can't risk infection.

Now I wind a new bandage around her hand. I try to make sure she can at least move her fingers. I begin the same process on her other hand. It's a little better off I'm glad to see. I work a few more minutes. She watches me the whole time. "All done." I say finally. She withdraws her hand, "Thank you." I stand up and clean my hands on a damp cloth, "I'm going to go get you some food. I'll return shortly."

Christine's POV

He didn't lock the door this time. I wait a moment, then cautiously get up and open the door. The bare dark hallway is all I find. I go back inside and pick up the candle he had lit. I can make out a large room at the end of the passage. Curious, I make my way towards it. I feel something furry scurry past my feet. I freeze. Oh not rats. I bite my lip and keep going. The room is big and open. An organ stands against the wall. I walk towards it. Pages and pages of sheet music are scattered about it.

He composed so beautifully. I have the urge to play one of the pieces but refrain. He had never shown me the organ before; I wasn't sure how to play. My hands wouldn't take it anyway. I set the candle down and finger the keys careful not to play any of them. I move on and come to a music box resting on a small table. The figure of a monkey playing the cymbals rested on top. I make it play and a jingle fills the air. I smile; I liked it. Carefully I set it down.

What was this place? Why didn't he just keep the organ upstairs in the normal part of the house? I look around, what was all of this? I walk over to something covered in sheet. For a moment I hesitate, but then pull the sheet off. I take a step back. It's a dress on a mannequin. It's long and elegant, and obviously a wedding dress. The realization hit me, and all of a sudden I didn't feel good. This had been his plan all along. But he wouldn't actually… He couldn't could he?

"You weren't supposed to see that." I gasp and spin around. He's standing in the entryway. I step away from the dress, "I… I didn't mean… I didn't know." He cocks his head to the side and walks towards me. "You didn't think there was a reason it was all the way down here? A reason it was covered up?" His voice is level, calm; his pace is steady, smooth. I take a step back, "I'm sorry." He says shaking his head, "I must say, the past few days I've been very disappointed in you." He gestures to the dress, "Are you surprised, Christine? I mean, really… weren't you expecting this anyway?"

I shake my head slowly, "No, I didn't think-" He cuts me off sharply, "You didn't think I'd want to make an honest woman out of you before we came together? Do you know me at all, Christine?" I look down, "It's not that. I did not know of your intentions." He stops in front of me, "Perhaps I should make them more clear then." I calmly take a step back, "Erik… I… I can't. I love Raoul." His eyes flash with anger, "He makes me happy, Erik. Don't you want me to be happy?

He looks down as if considering something. I have backed up all the way to the organ now. He stays his distance. "You know, Christine, I'm really not liking this Raoul boy. In fact I could happily kill him and lose no sleep at night." He looks up at me, "But I'm not the one who's going to make that decision." I frown, "What do you mean?" He takes a step towards me, "You see, Christine, you were so upset when you thought I had hurt him that… I just couldn't bring myself to mess with the boy. Instead I thought I'd let you decide."

I have a bad feeling, "Decide what?" He starts closing the distance between us, his long strides eat up the floor separating us. I eye the door behind him. If I ran… Even then I wouldn't know how to get out of his maze. He stops in front of me. He puts both hands on my shoulders surprisingly gentle. He whispers, "It's him. Or it's me. It's your choice." I eye him cautiously, he was playing with me. He wasn't going to let me choose. "It's so simple, Christine. Let me explain if for you. Choose Raoul, go and live a happy little life. Get married, have children… but I will haunt you for the rest of your life. I'll always be watching you. You will never be safe. Raoul will never be safe. Your children will never be safe."

His words send chills down my spine. He leans in closer, "Or, choose me. Let him go. Let him meet someone else, fall in love with someone else, and live the rest of his life carefree and happy. Choose me, or you will be cursed the day you did not do…" He voice drops to a whisper, "All that the phantom asked of you." I shudder at the name he called himself. I shake my head, "You wouldn't…" His face is so close to mine now I can feel his breath, "Dare you underestimate me?"

The door. I had to get out of here. He would never let me pass. "What will it be Christine?" I take a deep breath, "It won't be you." Without thinking I reach up and brush his mask off. I don't even look at the face underneath. I had caught him off guard giving me precious few seconds to get away. "Damn you!" He yells after me. I don't turn back. I race up the stairs trying to remember the way out of here. I can hear him behind me. I had gotten a head start, but he was gaining on me. I dash out of the stairwell into a hallway. Which way? Which way?

Panicking I try a door it's locked. They're all locked. I'm wasting time. I turn down another hallway. I had to get out of here. I hear him enter the hallway as well. I mustn't let him catch me. He was infuriated. I head up another stairwell. Nothing looked familiar. At the end of the steps I'm expecting another hall but come to a door instead. No, no, this wasn't happening. I try the door. The handle turns freely, but the door is stuck. It won't budge. No, please, please open. I throw my weight into it. It doesn't move. I hear him coming up the stairs. He's walking. He knows I'm trapped, and he's taking his time. I shake the handle.

Tears of frustration stream down my face. I can see his shadow now creeping up the stairwell. It was no use. I sink to the ground, huddling in the corner. I can see him now. He's carrying a candle. He had put his mask back on. "What are you afraid of, Christine?" I back up even closer to the wall. He's so close now. His tall, broad body blocks the way down. He kneels in front of me. I squeeze my eyes shut. "Look at me." I open my eyes. His face is right in front of mine. "Go on. Take the mask off again." I shake my head, "No." He grasps my hand and brings it to his face. "Do it. We settle this now."

My voice shakes, "I don't want to." He holds my hand to the mask, "You have no choice now. You must face this. Do it." Trembling I carefully pull the mask away from his face. He watches me calmly for a reaction. I can't stop myself from gasping. I catch myself from looking away. Don't offend him. Don't offend him. Half of his face is badly disfigured. Parts look as though he was burned or marred, yet other parts looked scarred and distorted. What could have done this to him? How did this happen? I reach up to touch the skin; he stops me. "Don't." He says firmly.

He looks away from me and replaces the mask. He looks back, "You've seen. Now there are no secrets between us." I look away; I can't face him. He says quietly, "You know all of my intentions. And now I must know yours." He puts a gentle hand on my arm, "Choose, Christine. You must choose." I look down and shake my head, "But how can I? You've given me so little to choose from." His hand moves up and down my arm. He's trying to seduce you, Christine. Don't give into it.

I let out a deep breath. "I can't do this anymore. I can't figure you out. I just want…" His voice is soft, calming, "What? What do you want?" I shake my head, "I don't know. You're so hard to read. Everything about you can be so soft, so gentle. And then in the next moment I'm terrified of you, of what you might do. You raise your hand and strike me, but then you hold me and touch me, and it feels... Like nothing I've felt before." I wish I could swallow my words, but I've said too much already and I can't stop myself. "It's different than when I'm with Raoul. It's a lot different. It's the way you touch me. It's older and darker and steadier and I don't know how to handle it. It makes me feel…"

I'm almost crying now. He puts a finger to my lips, "Shhh. Don't say anything more." He brushes a tear off my cheek. He rises, taking my hands and pulling me with him. "Come." He whispers. I let him lead me back down the stairs and back the way I had run from. I wish he would say something. I had just told him everything, all that I felt, and all he had done was tell me to stop talking. Instead of taking me back to the windowless bedroom he passes it and leads me back to the grand room with the organ.

I see the wedding dress in the corner and shiver. He stops then and turns to me, "We need to talk, Christine." I say miserably, "You told me stop talking." He sighs, "I didn't mean it like that. I… I just wanted to explain things to you. You don't have to be confused." I leave his side and settle onto a loveseat by the organ. "I fail to see how you could say anything that would help me understand." He watches me intently. Then says, "I can show you."

My breathing catches for a moment. He says softly, "Don't you see, Christine? It doesn't matter that you can't explain or understand what you feel. All that matters is that you feel it." I swallow, "But… how-" He says walking towards me, "Don't question it, Christine. Give in to it. Embrace it." He pauses, "Ignore it if you must, but don't question it. Your emotions cannot lie to you." He sits next to me, keeping room between us. I say quietly, "Then Raoul? What emotions are those?"

He leans over, "Weak ones. What you feel for him and what you feel for me are very different." I look at him bitterly, "You know nothing of what I feel for him or you." He says, "Ah, but I do. You think you love him, but I see the look in your eyes when I touch you. You try to look away…" He whispers, "It's nothing to be ashamed of." I cross my arms, holding myself. He shifts and moves closer, "You're young still, darling. It's hard. Everything inside of you is… changing. It gets easier though, I promise."

"When you force me to make difficult decisions, I suppose that's when it gets easier?" He says darkly, "I would think the choice would be fairly easy to make." I shake my head sadly, "I don't want to hurt him, but it seems as though either way I choose… I cannot win." His arm goes around me. I try to shrug it off. "Why do you reject me?" I say quietly, "Why do you hide from me?" He says confused, "What do you mean?" I look at him, "Your mask. That mask. I've seen what's underneath but still you wear it. How do you expect me to marry you, to be your lover, when you hide behind a mask?"

He doesn't say anything, and I can't stop myself, "Your face is… yes, it's..." I search for the right word, "It's scarred, but… I'm not afraid of it. I didn't turn away." He says testily, "I wear it for you." I scoff, "If you had kept it off from the beginning you wouldn't have had to. And do you not think you're overreacting just a-" I don't finish. He grabs me violently and pushes me into the loveseat. He is upon me quickly, his weight crushing me. He hisses in my face, "Do not talk of what you nothing about! You know nothing of this face!"

He reaches up and takes off his mask, throwing it to the ground, "You know nothing of how my own mother could not face me. You know nothing of the names they called me, of the pain they caused me. Nothing!" I struggle beneath him frightened. His marred face is ablaze with anger. I sob, "I'm sorry. I didn't know. I didn't know."

He closes his eyes. His breathing is labored, his chest heaves against me. Something wet hits my face, and I realize it's his tears. He rests the side of his face against my breasts and cries. I hesitantly put my hand on his cheek. The skin there feels rough. Not knowing what else to do I stroke his face and hair. I had never seen him cry before. He had always seemed so strong, someone you couldn't break.

"I'm sorry." I say softly. "I didn't mean… I didn't know." He continues to weep. His hand finds it's way to my hair. I sigh and do my best to hold him and comfort him. Abruptly he stands up. "No." He says. I sit up, "What's wrong?" He backs away from me, "Go. Get out of here. Go to your precious Raoul. Leave me!" He strides to the organ and sits down. I stand up shakily. I see his mask on the floor. I pick it up and turn it over in my hands. Cautiously I walk to the organ bench and set it beside him.

He looks down at the mask. "I said leave." He says harshly, not looking at me. I back away. He stands up violently knocking over the bench, "Get out!" I turn and run back the bedroom.