Hello! Thank you guys so much for the reviews! Hopefully it was a fun chapter to read.
I know that it could be slightly confusing, though, and I just want to clarify something. Madame Giry was the one who left the note for Erik at the opera house. Christine is still stuck in bed in the manor.
Okay...there is going to be some fluffiness throughout the next chapters. I know everyone prefers drama, and I promise more of that as well. (We've got the Vicomte, Monsieur Ames, and the Inspector to deal with still) But you have to let me have some fluff, too, or I get depressed and can't write. :)
The handwriting of this note was not written in the same flowing cursive as that of her earlier letter to the Vicomte. Many of the crudely scribbled letters ran together in swirls of black ink, causing it to be slightly difficult to read. Similarly, the wording was not carefully thought out. It was blunt and choppy, with its sole point being to get the information swiftly across. Obviously, the letter had been written very quickly.
Erik,
I know that I am disregarding your wishes by asking this of you, but I need you to come to me now. Raoul is gone for several weeks on business and will not pose a problem. The manor stands alone and is about two hours directly east of the city. The name Ames is on the front gate. My room is on the second floor of the left wing. I believe it is the third room down, but I am not for certain. Please come soon.
Love,
Christine
I have asked the maid. It is the second room down.
He could not but help smirk at the sentence concerning the Vicomte. "Gone for several weeks on business." You certainly did not get your money's worth, boy. The rest of the letter worried him, though.
After Christine's departure from the hospital, Erik had remained away from the opera house for a week. He had discovered an abandoned flat hidden amidst the city and chosen to make himself scarce as the police finished up their searches. Now that the Vicomte had found his way down to the lair, he didn't know who else would journey down there in search of the mysterious Opera Ghost.
Perhaps he would have been angrier at the inconvenience if he had not felt more alive than he had in his entire life. Christine Daae had told him that she loved him. She had kissed him without disgust, when some women had rather die than be near him. With the half-hearted belief that she would still wish to be with him in the end, he felt that he was able to sit through anything. On occasion, he still cursed himself for sending her off, thoughts of her finding renewed happiness with the Vicomte constantly torturing him. But he had freed her to make her own decision. Now he could only pray that she did not change her mind, for letting her go again would no doubt destroy him.
About a week later, Erik had returned to the opera house in the dark of the night. Finding his lair completely untouched, he immediately began writing a letter to the managers demanding an increase in his salary to atone for the incident at Don Juan. In reality, he simply wished to garner enough wealth to begin a new life or to make a quick escape if it became necessary.
As he was quietly delivering the note to its proper location, he became aware of a hushed conversation occurring between the two managers and the Vicomte. Listening in closely, Erik discovered that the Opera Ghost had apparently been exterminated at the request of the boy and that a body had been secured. He had to refrain from sending his eerie laugh reverberating off the walls of the opera house. For a brief moment, he considered leaving the letter there and throwing his voice around the room to terrify and mock them. Did they really believe he was so easy to be rid of?
Then, he thought of his Angel and realized that his "death" would make his future plans with her much more attainable. There would be an immediate cease in the search for him, and the Vicomte would not drag Christine off to some accursedly far away location. Silently, Erik tucked the letter back into his pocket. Over the next weeks, he kept himself well-hidden, even darkening the lair should anyone come down to it. He imagined that the boy entered at least once and was actually glad he hadn't been there at the time. Despite the fact that another murder would have ruined everything Erik had gained, it would have required quite a bit of restraint to not bring out the lasso. The boy had tried to have him killed. Should he not grant the boy the same courtesy?
All had gone quite smoothly until Madame Giry had placed a letter in its usual spot, on the slim chance that O.G. was still alive. If he took it, he knew that it would give his presence away. Seeing that it was from Christine, though, Erik immediately picked it up, knowing somehow that the ballet instructor would stay silent.
He only had to read it once to know that he would be leaving that night. The note sounded frantic, and Christine had taken the risk of revealing at least part of the situation to Madame Giry. Something was amiss. Despite his concern for Christine, he had to admit that he was pleased she still desired his company after living in a luxurious manor for several weeks. Weapon and note tucked safely with him, Erik left by carriage as soon as it became dark.
Christine rested quietly in bed throughout the day, staring blankly at the white wall as a numbness began to overtake her. She had spent most of the previous night sobbing desperately into her pillow and had no tears left to cry. Exhausted, helpless, and utterly alone...she wished she could fall into a deep sleep and dream for an eternity.
The only vague hope she had was that Madame Giry would figure out some way to help her escape. But then what? Was she to marry Raoul as planned and forget everything that had occurred? That is what would have happened anyway. Now the thought made her feel eerily empty, though.
It was not that she thought a life with Raoul would be unbearable. He would protect and provide for her like a good husband, and she did have a childhood love for him. But knowing what she knew now, Christine would always wonder what could have been. There would always be a void inside, slowly eating away at her. She felt like screaming in devastation and rage whenever she thought of Erik's lifeless body lying somewhere unknown to her. She despised whoever had done it and silently cursed them with words she had heard only the male stagehands use.
In between her tears, she continued to plot ways of escaping, all of them seemingly futile. There had been no more late night incidents, but she had heard a heated argument between Monsieur Ames and she guessed what was his wife. Ever since he had come home, there was a tension in the household. Even the maids were at an unease most of the time, no longer merrily chatting as they went about their work. The enormous manor carried a darkness within it.
As the night fell, Christine closed her eyes and attempted to escape her heartache in sleep, hoping she would dream of him. Finally she fell into a restless slumber, still fairly conscious of her surroundings. It was hours past midnight when she was startled awake as her door opened with a soft click. Immediately she sat up in the bed and looked forward, vaguely making out the silhouette of a man in her doorway. Oh God. He was coming in again. She prepared herself to scream and prayed someone was nearby. Looking to her right, Christine saw an ornamental vase on the bed stand and grabbed it as a last defense. Tears ran down her cheeks as she tightly gripped the ceramic object. The fear, anger, and pain of the last several days coursed through her veins as she prepared to fight and yell.
The man slowly walked in and looked down at her. Gaze fixed upward, Christine opened her mouth to scream but choked in disbelief instead. She blinked several times to make sure she was not hallucinating and then tears of relief began to flow from her tired brown eyes. To prevent anyone from hearing her, she covered her mouth with her hand to stifle her sobs.
Erik found himself to be stunned for a moment, not quite sure how to take such a reaction to his presence. Had she not been the one to request so fervently that he come, he might have thought she wished him to go away. After a moment, Christine managed to stop crying. "You...you are alive," she finally choked out in a whisper. Now he understood. Madame Giry had told her of everything.
"Yes, Christine. I am quite alive. I did not mean for the news of my death to reach you in such a manner."
Shaking slightly, she realized she was still grasping the vase and placed it back on the stand with a soft thud. "Oh, thank God," she sighed as she felt her body relax. "I thought..." She attempted to compose herself again, realizing that they may be short on time. "Please get me out of here, Erik. I hate it here! Take me with you tonight. Whatever happens cannot be worse than this." Had it not been for her confounded ankle, she would have flown into his arms and made for certain she was not dreaming. She wished he would come closer instead of standing at the edge of the bed with his arms folded and an unreadable expression upon his face.
"I am going to assume that the vase was not for me. Would you care to tell me what is going on?"
The last thing she wanted to do then was go into details. As Erik looked down and noticed the exhaustion and desperation in her eyes, he knew for certain that he would not leave without her that night. "I cannot explain right now. This place...it is like being in prison. I simply wish to get out!" Before he could reply, a woman's worried voice came from outside the door.
"What in heaven's name is going on in there? Is everything all right, Christine? Monsieur Ames is not in there again, is he?" It was one of the maids.
"No," Christine yelled back quickly. "I am fine. Everything is fine." She saw Erik's yellow eyes form into a steely glare.
As the sound of more voices could be heard outside, Erik realized they needed to move quickly and abandoned the interrogation. "Come. I am taking you with me. Remain very quiet." She nodded in pure relief as he scooped her into his arms and headed for the door. Gripping his neck tightly, she felt her heart calm down and rested her head against him as she had wanted to do weeks before. Quietly Erik darted his way through the dark hallways and down the stairs, carefully keeping an eye out for other people.
He had about made it to the front entryway, when a maid popped out from behind a corner. She gasped as the pair of yellow eyes approached her in the dark and flung herself back against the wall with a slight yelp. Knowing she would go for help, Erik picked up his pace but flew by her without a second glance. Just as he approached the door, a younger man in a blue silk robe came running toward him, waving a pistol in his hand. "Hey! What the hell are you doing in my house? Who are you?"
"Hurry," he heard Christine whisper in panic as she looked toward him. A shot was fired, but Erik had already made it through the doorway. Quickly he darted for the carriage, holding onto Christine with one arm and reaching for the lasso with the other. The man continued to race after them through the yard, waving the gun wildly.
As Erik quickly placed Christine into carriage, he glanced backward. "Would that happen to be Monsieur Ames?" he sneered, now with both arms available. He knew at a glance that the man did not have the skill to aim the gun properly, especially in the dark.
She looked up at him, eyes wide. "Yes," she whispered. "But please. Let's go. He did not actually do anything to me. I promise. I am fine now." He continued to glare. "Please, Erik," she pled. "Let him go. Hurry." With resignation, he gave into her plea and climbed into the carriage. He had started to move the horses forward when Monsieur Ames ran up beside him, attempting to aim the pistol again. With a curse, Erik whirled around and grabbed the man tightly by the neck. The young man gasped as he felt the long, cold fingers begin to cut off his airway and dropped the pistol in his approaching unconsciousness. After a moment, Erik released him and threw him forcefully to the ground. He heard Monsieur Ames give a soft groan from below.
"Your next encounter with me will not end so favorably," he hissed as he once again moved the horses forward. From behind him, he heard Christine give a long sigh of relief. Within minutes she gave way to her exhaustion and fell into a peaceful sleep with the knowledge that her Angel was alive.
Erik glanced back once at her dozing form, thoroughly grateful to have her with him again. He also silently cursed both himself and the Vicomte for placing her in such a wretched position. Had it not been for her frightful pleas, Monsieur Ames would not have survived the night.
For most of the journey he went along back roads so that no one would know the path they took once people were assembled to search for them. As they neared the city, he attempted to blend in with the many other carriages passing by, head hidden within a dark cloak. Christine awoke to the noises of Paris and raised herself up. "I am so happy to be out again," he heard her say softly, more to herself than to him. "I never wish to see that place again." He had never heard her speak so bitterly before.
"I do not know if you will find my place much more agreeable, my dear."
She laughed lightly. "Erik, I am extremely looking forward to seeing your home again. And as far as agreeableness goes, I had rather live in a shack than stay in that manor." He did not reply but felt a slight relief come over him. She sounded genuinely happy.
Finally they arrived at the opera house, and the horses came to a steady halt. Christine stared up at the building wondrously, realizing how much she had missed it this past month. Of course, when she had first run away, it had seemed like a dark, frightening place. Now, it looked somewhat inviting.
Erik came to the back and opened the door. She sighed and reached out for him to carry her again, knowing it would be quicker than hobbling down into the cellars. "I am afraid that I am going to be a nuisance for several more weeks. You shall wish me gone before long."
He stared at her for a second before chuckling almost sadly. "I do not see that happening in the near future, Christine." Checking to make sure no one was near, he quickly swooped her up again and walked quickly in through a side entrance, knowing few people would be around at this hour. He darted down the dark corridors so fast that, before Christine realized it, she was in the doorway of the familiar dressing room. Gazing around at it for a moment, she saw that it looked as she had left it. At least no one had replaced her yet.
With one hand, Erik quickly worked the contraption on the mirror and opened it. Christine gazed into the void behind it. He hesitated a moment, as if not quite believing the entire event was real. Then he felt Christine tightly embrace his shoulders, placing her warm cheek against his cool one. "Let's go," he heard her whisper and felt his heartbeat quicken. For the second time in her life, Christine was taken down into his underground world...this time with no deceptions or illusions.
