Hello all! Thanks for the reviews and keep them coming! Some of you are probably wondering about the ending...and I really am striving for a fairly happy one. E/C of course...unless I get a bunch of raging R/C fans coming on. Somehow I don't see that happening.
Well...this is kind of an anticipated chapter. Read and Review...even if this site goes down again!
Utterly miserable did not even begin to describe the last two weeks.
Upon Christine's untimely departure, he had returned to the dark bowels of the opera house without a second thought. Frankly, he would rather have spent an eternity in hell than go and sit in an empty house, pathetically awaiting something that would never come. No. The cellars of the opera house were where he belonged...were where he was meant to die and continue the process of decay.
Did he think she would return? The first night back in the cold caverns, he had actually dared to hope. He had left the boat out, watched the empty circular drive of the Opera Populaire...waiting and willing to forgive. If all she had desired was to say a quick farewell to the damn boy, then she would find a way to return even with the ankle. Not that he hadn't been furious at her, but he had waited for her in earnest.
Then the wretched days slowly began to pass...one by one...and he began to let her go. Each day killed him a little more, and he had visions of her in bliss with the boy...coddling him as he healed from his wounds...planning their luxurious future together. Once Christine had seen the Vicomte's princely features and remembered the grand life that she was originally destined for, why would she ever want to come be bride to the human incarnation of death?
For days, he had lain there in the coffin...much like the corpse he resembled, cursing her and longing for her simultaneously. When he had heard the portcullis open with the familiar creak, he had imagined it to be the gendarmes, finally come to kill him. Lying in the coffin, he had smiled bitterly to himself. Perhaps this would be entertaining. If there were less than ten men, he would likely be able to handle them. Any more would be difficult, maybe impossible, but worth the challenge. In the shadows of the room, he had stood ready with the lasso, not bothering to put on his mask. The horror of his face could prove to be a valuable distraction to say the least.
Then Christine had entered his little tomb. Ecstasy and hatred had filled him at the sight of her, and he had flung the lasso to the ground before she fell prey to it. But what had come next was even more misery, for he then saw the look on her face. The look of terror, repulsion, and disgust.
Her fear was evident as she stood in the dimly lit door way, tightly clutching to the lantern in her hand and shaking violently. Perhaps he could have told himself that Christine had only dreaded the lasso, but no... It was his face that she was gaping at right now in the dark.
He did not care anymore, though. He had spent the last two weeks in hell. She had left him...let her loathe him.
"Christine?" he rasped in both surprise and anger. "Do you really think it wise to enter someone's home at night uninvited?" He glared down at her and approached her. At hearing his familiar voice, though, much of the terror left her face, and she quickly regained composure.
"Erik," she managed to choke out. "I...I am sorry, but I...I..."
"You what, Christine? What is wrong? Oh! You are frightened. Well, by all means let me find my mask, and I shall make the monster go away." He spoke rapidly and sarcastically, making her even more nervous. She prayed that he would listen to her.
"No, Erik. I-you surprised me in the dark...and then I saw the-the lasso. Please, I have come back..." She was stuttering like a lunatic and couldn't seem to get out what she wished to say. Truthfully, his face had startled her, especially with the lantern's glow distorting the right side even more and the other side not being visible. And Erik knew it. The pain was obvious in his expression.
"You have come back from where, dear? From the boy? Did he tire of you so soon? Really, Christine. Stop shaking and say what you wish to say."
"Erik...no. I broke off the engagement with him so that he would not continue to search for us. We will be left in peace now. Please understand! He was terribly injured, and I had to make sure that he would not die. I love you. I wish to be with you...to marry you."
He laughed unpleasantly. "You wish to be with me? For how long? Will you leave at the altar? Or perhaps after the wedding?" He approached her. "How long will it take you to get tired of waking up and looking at this every morning?" he asked, motioning furiously toward his face.
Christine reached out to him compassionately, but he immediately stepped back from her. Her eyes filled with tears. "Erik, I will not leave again. You have to understand that he was my friend, and I cared about him. I did not want him to die! But I love you." She choked out the words as he stared down upon her with anguish and contempt.
"Christine...just get out," he said softly but coldly. "You do not know what you want, child. Perhaps you never will. And I am not going to play your games any more, even if it kills me." His heart shattered as he turned away from her, and he hated that he still desired her so much, that he still would have killed to have her in his arms if he thought her words to be true.
"Erik," she sobbed, falling to her knees. "Please..." She was interrupted, though, by the loud sound of water splashing behind her. Whirling around, she saw the outline of a figure in the dim cavern light. It appeared that someone had tripped and fallen into the lake, unintentionally making his presence known. Christine rose up from the ground and gasped, nearly colliding with a little table as she stepped backward. Erik grabbed a lantern and ran back into the room to retrieve the lasso from the ground. Within a second, he was back out, approaching the intruder with his weapon closely at hand.
Lifting the lantern, Erik allowed the shafts of light to fall upon the shimmering water and onto the figure. Christine suddenly found herself to be staring at a soaked Monsieur Ames, standing nervously in the lake, obviously having swum across. At first the young man only saw Christine, and he gave a nervous laugh. "Hello Mademoiselle," he began. "Just checking up on you for an old friend. Quite a little place you have down here!" Christine gaped, watching Erik out of the corner of her eye.
Monsieur Ames stepped forward into the light and saw that another person stood before him. Taking a large candle from the side of the lake, he shakily held it up over Erik's silhouette, finally letting the light fall upon the tall man's face. His eyes widened in pure horror, and he gasped. "Good God!" Laurent exclaimed, backing up and almost falling into the water again.
Erik approached him slowly. "I told you that your next encounter with me would not end favorably," he hissed. He had not liked the man from the first time he saw him, knowing that he had approached Christine in an indecent way. The last thing he needed was Monsieur Ames running up and telling the entire aristocracy about the hideous freak who lived below the opera house. And the anger was already raging through him that night...
"Get away you demon. You monster!" Laurent shouted fearfully, reaching into the jacket of his suit and fumbling furiously for his silver pistol. Finding it, he yanked it out and quickly attempted to ready and aim it. Erik prepared to throw the lasso, knowing that he easily had the advantage in the situation. To his shock, though, Christine suddenly splashed through the murky water and ran between the two men, placing herself protectively in front of Erik.
"No!" she yelled, fear and fury within her eyes. "Stop it! Leave him alone and get out of here! "
"What are you doing?" Erik furiously whispered to her. "Get out of the way!" Inwardly, he was awed by her sudden courage and desire to save his life. At the moment, though, she was recklessly endangering them both with her rash actions.
Laurent chuckled nervously at the sight. "Raoul really does have it bad. You left him for this thing." He quickly aimed the gun above Christine. Pointing it directly at Erik's head, he fired. Erik had enough time to whisk both him and Christine out of the way and onto the cold ground where they landed roughly against the stone.
"Stay down!" he whispered furiously into Christine's ear. In a flash, Erik forced himself up from the cavern floor and darted into the shadows. Laurent looked around with alarm in the sudden silence, holding the pistol shakily in front of him. Suddenly he heard a soft, eerie voice come from behind him.
"Here I am, Monsieur! Turn around quickly, or the monster shall get you!" Laurent whirled around with a gasp and fired into thin air, the shot echoing off of the walls. Before he could turn back, he felt a sudden tightness grip his neck and choked violently, thrashing his arms in terror. Within a second, a crack rang out through the cave, and Laurent Ames fell face first into the lake. The splash reverberated around them.
Christine let out a cry of fright, still lying on the cavern floor shaking. Slowly, she stood up, only vaguely aware of an ache in her shoulder from when she had hit the ground. Erik came out of the shadows and walked up to the body, staring at it with indifference.
"He is dead," she whispered, beginning to make her way to where Erik stood.
"So it appears," he replied, not looking at her.
"He...he would have killed you, though. You had no choice." She said it more as a comfort to herself than to him, but Erik glanced at her with slight irritation.
"I am glad you approve, my dear," he retorted. Seeing the distraught look in her eyes, though, he softened his tone some. "You should go to your room now. It is still ready for you. Go to sleep."
"What? I could not possibly sleep. I—"
Erik interrupted her harshly. "Unless you wish to see me rid us of the body, I suggest you go to your room."
"Oh," she whispered. "Will you...will you come see me when you are done? Please. I do not want to be alone." Her eyes pled with him.
She really wanted to be in his company? Even without the mask and after he had fresh blood upon his hands? Standing there in a partially soaked lavender dress, her cheeks flushed and streaked with tears, Christine Daae still looked more beautiful than ever. Remembering all of the recent events, though, he quickly tore his eyes away from her. "If you wish," he replied.
Christine nodded in gratitude and obediently headed to her room and climbed under the covers, her heart racing rapidly and a cold sweat trickling down her face. She felt completely isolated and alone. The unpleasant memories of the night sat with her, from seeing the gun pointed directly at her face to the gruesome death of the wretched man. Many minutes passed, and she wondered if he wouldn't come back to her that night.
Finally the door opened slightly, and he looked in at her. His mask had been replaced. "You are still awake?"
She looked up at him with relief. "I told you that I could not sleep. Please stay with me tonight." Christine scooted over slightly, not caring about modesties at the moment. She wanted to be with him.
"I can give you something to help you sleep," he replied, not moving from the doorway.
"Please, no. Please stay with me."
Still, he did not move, his expression remaining cold. "I can sing for you until you fall asleep, then."
She frowned, accepting the fact that song was the only solace she would receive tonight. "Very well," she replied in resignation, settling her head onto the cool pillow and closing her eyes. His magnificent voice rang out around her, and, wrapped in its splendor, she slowly drifted off into an uneasy slumber.
When he was sure she had gone to sleep, he stopped singing and looked down upon her. Erik closed his eyes for a moment...and the first thing he saw was her horrified face from earlier that night, gaping at the monstrosity before her. Shuddering at the image, he closed the door. Quickly he forced himself to think about his newest problem. No doubt a search would soon begin for Monsieur Laurent Ames.
