This chapter was the first chapter written to music other then the Phantom of the Opera Soundtrack (Musical/Movie). The wonderful Les Miserable and Jekyll and Hyde inspired me! All credit goes to those two for this chapter, which I personally like for no good reason.
The show was preformed with ease and grace. Sorelli, her leg in a brace, had glared at Claire during the entire performance from the left wing. Claire had ignored this and gave an eloquent performance. She was in a rush to return to the dressing room. Claire pushed through the crow, trying desperately not to fall and be trampled by feet. She was still dressed in her slave girl outfit and was chilled to the bone. The door to the dressing room was in sight when a man approached her. Beside him was Andre and Firmin. She stopped and smiled politely.
"Hello Monsieur Firmin, Monsieur Andre," she said. Andre smiled in return and responded,
"You were quite marvelous tonight. Oh, forgive me, where are my manners? Madame Lafayette this is the Vicomte Marc de Mandolin." The younger man took Claire's hand and lifted it to his lips.
"It's a pleasure to meet you," she said, unsure of this mans intentions.
"The pleasure will be entirely mine," he replied. Claire was offended by his obvious sexual innuendo. She was relieved when he released her hand.
"We shall leave you two to your business now," Firmin said and with that they left. Claire studied the man intently. Marc's brown hair was neatly pulled back into a ponytail, his face calm and serene.
"Shall I treat the lovely Miss Lafayette to dinner before bed?" he asked offering his arm. Claire knew what he wanted and she would not give it to him.
"I am sorry Monsieur but I am feeling quite ill," she lied. A look of anger crossed the man's face.
"I was promised you tonight and that is a promise I intend for you to keep!" He roughly grabbed her by the arm and began dragging her towards a dark area amidst the bustle of the cast and crew.
"Let me go!" Claire cried as he pushed her up against a wall. A hand covered her mouth, muffling her cries.
"You will find it better if you do not speak," Marc said kissing her neck and thrusting himself against her. Claire's eyes were wide with fright. She felt herself begin to cry, her tears running across his hand. She waited for him to take her completely and thought of what shame it would bring her.
That was when a shadow came up behind the Vicomte. Claire watched as a rope was thrown around his neck and pulled him backwards into the shadows across from the dark corner she was in. After a minute or so Erik emerged from the darkness, not Marc.
"Come with me," he whispered and took her by the hand. He led her through a hidden door and down towards his home.
"What did you do to him?" Claire said, demanding he tell her. Erik only held onto her more roughly and moved more quickly.
"Tell me what you did!" Claire yelled pulling against him. They stopped. It looked as if they were only a few levels below the Opera House for she could still hear the sounds of the people above. The tears still flowed from her eyes. She couldn't seem to stop them no matter how hard she tried. Erik turned to her, his eyes dark and dangerous.
"Do you really want to know what I did, what I did for you?" he bellowed. His words stung her. Without warning she felt herself shoved up against a wall for the second time that night. She sniffed back a sob but it spilled out anyway.
"Yes! I want to know!" she screamed. If the noise from above hadn't been so loud they surely would have been found out. Luck seemed to be on their side at the moment. He pressed his body against hers and brought his head against hers. They were inches from each other now.
"I killed him," he said. Claire bit her bottom lip.
"How?"
"The Punjab lasso." This meant nothing to Claire. To her it had looked like a regular rope being thrown around the man's neck. She should have been appalled by this act of evil but she was not. In response to his confession she brought her hand around to the back of his head and brought his lips to hers. His arms circled her tiny body and gave into the slow and tender kisses she offered. Two lost souls embracing in the darkness. Neither of them knew what they were doing or what was too come. Claire placed her hand gently on his mask.
Claire released him from her kiss and stared into his confused eyes.
"I thought you would leave," he declared, his voice filled with quiet awe. Claire shook her head and brought him to her again, their lips in an endless dance.
"I don't know what I feel," she mumbled between their kisses. Erik was quick to agree,
"Yes." He ended their kiss and took her by the hand, more gently this time.
"We must make haste my dear," he said, his voice returning to its normal uncaring demeanor. Claire was led through the dark of the underground but who would lead her through the darkness of her mind?
