Demons of the Past
Ch. 19 Ghost of the Past
Author's note: I feel the end of my story drawing near…I have one more chapter 'til the end. I just think that twenty is a good round number to stop on (I'm taking a leaf after one of my fave authors Kat097; if you haven't read her stories, they're pretty awesome). I hope to make the last chapter long enough to where I won't need and epilogue…but if you guys want one, then I will do it…just let me know. Right now, I am happy about this story, and I thank everyone who's read it. YEA!
Disclaimer: I don't own the Phantom of the Opera. I also didn't invent cheese or suntan lotion…just random thoughts…
And now, on with the story…
At two o'clock in the morning, most people in Paris were asleep. Most, if lucky, were tucked into a warm bed with warm blankets to battle the cold of the December night…and some, who were even luckier, might have something better than a blanket to keep them warm. Lovers were long asleep, mothers and fathers had long tucked their children into bed, even the drunks in the pubs were feeling the effects of sleep beckoning to them. But in a home not far from the Opera Populaire, the norm was broken.
Erik lay in a dead sleep, his arms wrapped tightly and protectively around his young wife. The cold had seeped into their downstairs bedroom, regardless of the smoldering fire in the fireplace. Erik was oblivious to the world…until a cry shattered his dream world, and he awoke with a jerk. Erik strained his excellent hearing and discovered the cries coming from upstairs…but they were not the cries of his infant daughters…it was something else. Erik carefully unattached himself from his wife, not wanting her to wake. He grabbed his mask from the bedside table, and grabbed a robe to cover his bare chest. Erik's barefoot feet padded the floor silently as he walked up the stairs to the source of the sound. The cries grew in intensity, until finally they were vocalized.
"Daddy! Come quick! Please!"
Erik forgot all care as he bounded the rest of the way up the stairs. He raced down the hall into Brian's room. Erik skidded to a halt, his eyes sweeping the room, trying to find the source of Brian's discomfort…he found Brian sitting straight up in bed, hugging his knees as he rocked back and forth, crying. Erik came forward to him and wrapped his arms around his brother.
"What's wrong, little one? What has happened? Shhh, I'm here now, my boy…tell me what's wrong."
"Ghosts…there are ghosts everywhere."
Erik pulled him away gently and wiped his tears away. "Ghosts?"
"Yeah…ghosts."
Erik looked around the room. "I don't see any ghosts."
Brian shook his head. "It's 'cause there invisible…they live in the shadows…like the ghost at the Opera House."
"Ghost? In the Opera House?"
"Elisabeth said that there is a ghost that haunts the Opera House…a ghost with no face…and now I see him! He's come to get me!" Brian said in a small voice, his body shaking in fear.
Erik closed his eyes briefly, feeling the familiar pain return to his chest. So she knows about the Opera Ghost; it was only a matter of time…I will have to talk to her… "Elisabeth was just telling you a story, little bee…I shall speak to her about saying such things to you. I can assure you, Brian, that there are no ghosts…there make-believe, like fairies and dragons. They can't hurt you, little one…there not real. Now, why don't you lie back down and go to sleep?"
Brian shook his head. "The ghosts will come back as soon as you leave…"
Erik sighed. "Well…how can I frighten away the ghosts, Brian? What can I do?"
"You can't do anything…they have to leave on there own." Erik was beginning to get frustrated when he heard one of the twins from the nursery in the next room over.
"Why don't you come with me, then? You can help me with the babies."
Brian's face brightened substantially, and together they walked into the nursery. Brian seemed to be glad to leave his room…and Erik just wanted to crawl back into his own bed and sleep. Erik motioned for Brian to have a seat in the large window seat. Brian scrambled up into the comfy seat and watched Erik pick up Aurora. She was bawling her eyes out. Miraculously, her sister hadn't even stirred. Erik glanced at Celena in jealously, wishing he could drown out nighttime noises as well as her…
"Shhhh, little angel," Erik said, trying to comfort the screaming child. She quieted a bit as she recognized her father's voice. She looked at her, her bright eyes wet with tears. Erik held her close, still talking in a soothing voice. Brian watched with wide eyes.
"Why is she crying? Is she hurt? She sure does cry a lot…"
Erik chuckled. "Babies cry to let everyone know they need something…they can't talk yet, like you and I." Erik turned toward the door as he heard footsteps approaching. Christine appeared in the doorway, a sleepy expression still on her face.
"You weren't fast enough, love…I still heard her." Erik grimaced.
"I tried…it's good that you're here anyway, Christine…I think Aurora is hungry." Christine nodded, and sat in the rocking chair as Erik handed her Aurora. Christine glanced at Brian, who was beginning to nod off again. Erik took the hint, and picked Brian up gently and carried him from the room. Christine wanted privacy while she breast-fed…and that was perfectly understandable. Erik slowly placed Brian back into his bed. His eyes had already closed in sleep. Erik smoothed his hair fondly before heading back toward the nursery. Christine smiled as he returned.
"Erik, you're dead on your feet…why don't you go on back to bed? I'll join you in a moment."
Erik sighed and shook his head. "Elisabeth told Brian that there was a ghost living in the Opera House…a ghost with no face. Now Brian sees the ghost in his nightmares…and I'm stuck with wondering how much Elisabeth knows about the Opera Ghost."
"I wouldn't worry too much, Erik…this time, the rumor is that the Opera Ghost really is a ghost…the ghost of the Phantom of the Opera. Everyone thought that you had died when the mob brought back that dead body, love…and now the ballet brats have begun to spread rumors that the ghost of the Opera Ghost (it's kind of funny, if you think about it in a cosmic way) has come back to take revenge on those who killed him."
Erik looked at Christine in disbelief. "How do you know all of this?"
Christine laughed. "Meg, of course…"
"So they think that the Phantom of the Opera is dead, and that his ghost now haunts the Opera House with no face, frightening various people along the way…interesting. No whispers of Don Juan…no whispers about you?"
Christine thought for a moment. "Well…they say that after I was abducted from the stage during Don Juan, (she raised her eyebrow at Erik, who gave her a roughish grin) I fell in love with the Phantom…but that I still chose to leave with Raoul. Once I realized my mistake, I went mad…I went away to some far away place for months trying to get over my obsession…then I came back with you. You're mysterious…and handsome…and so they just think that I have gotten over my obsession with the Phantom."
"You went mad? Well, it's nice for someone else to be insane for a change…but why wouldn't they put two and two together? I wear a mask…the Phantom wore a mask…I'm in love with you…the Phantom was in love with you…Damn, this is confusing! It makes no sense…"
Christine smiled in sympathy. "It is bewildering, love…but the reason they don't figure it out is because they think your whole face is deformed…your right side faced the audience in the performance of Don Juan ("Don't remind me," Erik growled as he interrupted her. Christine just sighed exasperatedly and moved on.) and they didn't realize that only part of your face was deformed…and since you only wear a half mask, you couldn't possibly be the Phantom of the Opera…rather ingenious, how the ballet brat's mind works, isn't it?"
Erik laughed, deeply and genuine. He sobered quickly. "But Elisabeth is smarter than that…if she has heard these rumors, especially yours and Raoul's roles in the affair…it is only a matter of time before she figures it out. I have feared this…I will have to tell her the truth, for no other reason but for her own protection! I will not have the truth come from distorted lips who know nothing of the reality of the strange affair…"
"Angel, I understand your concern…and I agree that you must talk to Elisabeth. She loves you, Angel…give her a chance." Christine looked at her sleeping daughter at her breast. "Well, it looks as if we have bored our dear daughter to sleep…let's join her, shall we?"
Erik smirked. "But I do so love this two a.m. talks we have…"
Christine replaced Aurora back in her crib. "Then let's talk in our sleep, love…"
Christine wrapped her arms around her husband gently. Together, they walked down the stairs and into their room. Erik was almost asleep when he heard the tiny squeak of their bedroom door being opened. He sat up in alarm, his body moving automatically to cover Christine protectively.
"Daddy?"
Erik let out a small sigh of relief. "Yes, Brian?"
There was a shuffle of feet on the ground. "I can't sleep in my room…"
Erik could definitely see where this was headed. "So," he prompted gently, "what do you want to do about that?"
Christine lifted herself up from the bed and beckoned for Brian. He grinned happily as he jumped in the bed, kicking Erik in the stomach as he went. Erik's breath escaped him with a slight gasp, but he recovered quickly. Christine wrapped her arms around Brian, cradling him softly against her. Erik felt a little awkward; Brian had never slept with them before…what was he supposed to do with a child in the bed? Christine answered his question for him. She grabbed his arms and wrapped them around her own, encompassing both her body and Brian's. Erik felt the warmth flood him as Christine's small frame pressed against his own, and as sleep descended, he couldn't help but feel that this was the perfect way to fall asleep.
"Advertising! That's the ticket…that's how we get more people to come to this ball!"
Stefan was speaking excitedly to Erik and Raoul in his office. Stefan was pacing in front of his desk, smiling with obvious pleasure at the thought of such a brilliant idea. Raoul frowned.
"But why would we need to advertise Bal Masque? It was a great success last year…save for a rather overly dramatic interruption." Raoul glanced at Erik, who had not missed the small jab. He glared at him with glittering eyes.
"It was just a bit of excitement…surely that won't keep people from attending the masquerade ball," Erik said to Stefan, ignoring Raoul pointedly. Stefan shook his head.
"I don't know, Erik…it's just that this season is going so well, and I want the ball to be a success too. If it weren't a tradition for the Opera Populaire, I have a right mind to cancel the ball all together…not tempt fate, so to speak. But too many people would be disappointed…if all else, the employees of the Opera House will have a grand time…and they will have deserved it. Still, I think that if we did a few advertisements: a few posters around Paris, a few ads in the paper…more people would come, and more money would be made!"
Raoul laughed. "Ah, a man after my own heart…what do you have in mind for the advertisements?"
Stefan thought for a moment. "Well, we could have several of our beautiful ladies and handsome gentlemen dress up in masquerade finery…I would love it if you would consent to Elisabeth being in the ads, Erik…she has such a rare beauty."
"I have no problems, as long as Elisabeth does not object." After all, Erik thought, she will be wearing a mask. No harm can come from this if no one recognizes her…
"Excellent! I shall make the arrangements…oh, I just have a wonderful feeling about this!"
Funny, Erik thought, as Stefan escorted them out of the office, I do not…
"They say his skin is like the yellow of old, faded parchment…his nose never formed; there is a giant black hole of tissue and bones instead. His voice is hypnotic…once you have heard his voice, you are forever entrapped by him…haunted forever by the beauty of his song inside the horrendous shell of a man."
Elisabeth laughed, breaking the spell the young ballerina called Mina was beginning to weave on the other girls. "How can he have such a wonderful voice, Mina, if he doesn't have a nose?"
Mina sputtered a minute. "That's not important! He's a ghost…they have powers that we do not. He is like a siren…a deadly voice that will kill you if you come too close."
Elisabeth looked at the scared looks on the other chorus and ballet girl's faces. "Oh, come on, you don't actually believe this, do you?"
One looked at Elisabeth with scorn. "Of course we do! Everyone knows the Phantom of the Opera was real…he lived underneath the Opera House for years before he was finally killed…and now, his ghost will haunt this place forever!"
Mina pointed a finger at Elisabeth. "Your sister-in-law is Christine Daae! Go ask her yourself the part she played in the Phantom of the Opera…she was his lover, after all."
Elisabeth rose to her feet, a furious look on her face. "You take that back this instant, Mina…you go too far with your boldness. Christine is an honorable woman…how dare you soil her name for the sake of your childish ghost stories!"
Mina rose to her feet as well, her face turning bright red. "Are you calling me a liar, Elisabeth? Everyone knows that Christine Daae had the Phantom twirled around her little finger, as any common whore would do…and then she left him, broke him, destroyed him. She is the reason he still haunts this place!"
Elisabeth spoke, her voice low and deadly. "This is your finally warning, Mina…take back your words yourself, or I will force them back!" Elisabeth roared the last line, and Mina took a step back from her.
"I will not!"
Elisabeth launched herself at the girl, trying to hurt her as much as she could. Mina screamed and attacked as well, biting at Elisabeth and pounding her fists against Elisabeth's side. Elisabeth saw only red…a blood red that covered her entire existence…until she was forcibly dragged away from Mina. She was pushed against the wall, and Erik's angry face was in hers.
"Why! Why, Elisabeth!"
Raoul was tending to Mina, who was bleeding from her nose. Stefan was speechless.
"What has happened here?"
Mina glanced at Elisabeth cruelly. "Elisabeth can't handle the truth, is all, Manager…she gets mad when she hears things she doesn't want to accept!" Elisabeth surged forward, trying to move away from Erik's strong grasp, but he withheld her, and grabbed her hand, pulling her away from Mina's hateful words. He pushed her into an empty dressing room.
"What the Hell was that about! Why were you fighting with that girl!"
Erik stood before her, his arms crossed over his chest and his face hard. Elisabeth stared into his cold blue green eyes, finding none of the familiar warmth there. She sighed.
"She insulted Christine, Erik…I was…I couldn't-" Elisabeth's words trailed off as she looked at the floor. "I'm sorry, Erik." She glanced up as Erik touched her arm.
"What did the girl say, Elisabeth?" Erik murmured, his tone light to hide the hidden meaning behind his words. Elisabeth could see them, though…
"She called Christine 'the Phantom's lover'…she said that she was whore…"
Erik's body began to shake with rage. "What were you talking about that would lead to such a subject? Tell me…" Erik could barely control his voice. Elisabeth recounted the whole conversation. Erik stood in silence, his eyes never leaving Elisabeth's face.
"This is my fault, Elisabeth…I have not been completely honest with you…but I cannot tell you here." Erik glanced around. His eyes rested on the large mirror in the corner. "You must trust me…do you?"
Elisabeth nodded with no hesitation. Erik led her to the mirror and opened the secret passage way behind it. Elisabeth made no sound as they descended into the lower levels of the Opera House. After some time, Erik stopped. He turned to Elisabeth.
"What I have to say is not going to be easy for me…and I must first have your word of honor that you will not reveal this secret to anyone. I am trusting you with my life, Elisabeth…my family's life."
"I swear, Erik…what is going on? I don't understand…"
Erik sat against the cold floor of the basement levels, his back against the wall. He looked up at Elisabeth.
"I told you that I met Christine at the Opera House long ago…and I know she has told you of me being her voice teacher. It was more than that, Elisabeth…I had lived in the undercombs of the Opera House for several years before I had ever saw Christine…I was hidden away, in solitude and seclusion. I came to Christine as her Angel of Music; a promise her dying father had made for her. She believed me, and I deceived her for so very long…it wasn't until I realized that I was in love with her that I knew I had to reveal the truth…that I wasn't her Angel of Music…I was the Phantom of the Opera."
Elisabeth gasped, the sound echoing through the passage. Erik couldn't look at her. "I…loved her so much…but slowly, surely, I was becoming mad…I was going insane. I had only ever had my music; my music was my only comfort in my dark world. I had no other contact with anyone…and now I wanted Christine, wanted her more than anything in my life! I had been denied much, and I would not be denied again! I put her through such torments…I put myself through torments…unimaginable. In the end…at the end of all things I realized what I had done to her…all the pain I had caused. I, so familiar with pain, couldn't bear the thought of inflicting horrible retribution upon the one person I loved! I let her go…I released her from my cruel ways…from my darkness…but she returned to me. Christine…so beautiful, so full of warm light…returned to this creature, this monster."
Erik finally glanced at Elisabeth and saw the tears running down her face. "The Phantom of the Opera is no more…now only Erik remains. She changed me…"
Elisabeth spoke for the first time. "What of the deaths? The chandelier crash? Christine being kidnapped…are all these things true?"
Erik held her gaze, his blue green eyes full of intensity. He nodded once.
Elisabeth choked on a cry. "I can't believe this…you saved me from a horrible life…you have shown me nothing but love and kindness…how can I believe that you were once the monster that everyone feared!" She rounded on him furiously. "Is the monster hiding behind the mask? Is that why you have never let me gaze upon your naked face? What is there to hide!" Erik stared at her, his face not changing from the passive stone wall he had built up. Inside, he was dying of guilt and pain…Elisabeth charged at him, swinging her hands at his face. "I trusted you! I trusted you with my life! I don't know you! I don't know who you are anymore!" Erik tried in vain to avoid the blows; no pain came…only the mental anguish of knowing the depths of his attempt at trying to maintain the façade of a normal life…finally, one of Elisabeth's blows struck home, knocking the mask from his face. Erik closed his eyes tightly, not bothering to raise his hands to cover his deformity. Elisabeth stopped and sucked in a breath. She staggered backwards, sitting hard on the floor. Erik remained where he was, his eyes closed still. There was only silence between them now. Erik stood from his place on the floor, brushing himself off. He turned his back to Elisabeth.
"Now you see…you see as everyone else does. As our dear mother saw…as the gypsies saw…I am a monster, exactly as you said. All I have ever wanted was to be normal! Live a normal life, have a family…I thought that I could have it. It had been denied me for so very long…but when Christine returned to me, I thought I had a second chance…but it can never be so. I will always have to relive my past…I can never undo the things I have done, no matter how much regret I have." Erik closed his eyes against the tears that fell. "I am sorry, Elisabeth…so very, very sorry." Erik finally lowered his head in shame, feeling the hot tears caress his cheeks, marred and perfect alike. Erik felt the touch of a kiss on his distorted flesh, and his eyes flew open in surprise. Elisabeth stood before him, standing on her tiptoes to reach her brother. He let her explore his face, feeling her touch graze over the bumps and holes of his deformed flesh. She turned his face so that their twin eyes met in a burning moment.
"You are my brother…my blood, my protector…and I love you, no matter what, I swear this to you. It's just a little shocking…you have to understand. What you look like has never mattered to me…and it never will." She hugged him fiercely and protectively, and Erik curled his arms around her as well. He kissed the top of her straight black hair.
"Thank you, Elisabeth…I can't tell you how much you and Brian mean to me…I don't want to lose you."
Elisabeth looked at him, a large grin on her face. "Lose us? You'll have to get rid of us first!" She stopped, a somber face replacing her smile. "Everyone has a past, Erik…and many have regrets. I wish I had never met my stepfather…you are not the same person that everyone speaks about, Erik…I know." She smiled again. "It must be strange, hearing the rumors of your ghost haunting the Opera House."
Erik shrugged in a gesture of indifference. "It is a bit strange…but I would rather them think me dead. It is easier that way."
Erik and Elisabeth made there way back into the empty dressing room. Elisabeth ran her hand down Erik's coat, clearing away the dust and cobwebs. Erik cleared his throat.
"You will more than likely hear more rumors of the ghost, Elisabeth…but now you know how important it is for you not to react. And, by the way, what in the world possessed you to tell Brian that ghosts were real? He slept with Christine and I last night…" Elisabeth rolled her eyes.
"I told him there was no such thing as the Opera Ghost! He overheard one of the ballet girls talking about a man with no face…"
Erik sighed. "I swear, if I find the person who told him ghosts were real, I will make them wish they had never told a ghost story in their life!"
Elisabeth just laughed. "He'll get over it…let's get out of here."
Elisabeth and Erik moved from the room. Erik walked with a better gait than before; he felt as though a giant weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
A grubby, grimy man made his was down the old roads of Paris sometime after midnight. His face was unkind and dirty; his grey eyes beamed through the mire and stubble present on his face. He walked with an uneven step, wavering a little as he stepped onto the curb. He was so very tired…and not even the drinks were able to burn the failure from his mind. He had lost everything…and the only sure thing in his life had vanished. And if he didn't find her…
Nathan Chien was at the end of his rope. His wife had died two weeks prior…not that he particularly cared about her. He had married her in hopes of gaining her family fortunes…he had been carefully and dutifully feeding her poison for ages. Nathan had plans for the girl as well; her mother's only daughter, although Anita had really not cared for her, all things considering…Elisabeth. Her name burned in Nathan's mind. Her beautiful eyes, such a perfect shade of green; the long, luxurious locks that were as black as the night…she was a rare beauty, a gem among the rocks. Nathan had been very careful to contain his own lustful thoughts toward her. He longed for her, to be the one to claim her innocence…but he had more lucrative plans for her. Men would pay for her company, most assuredly. To be honest, Nathan cared nothing for the boy, his son; he never had. His birth had been an absolute accident; it saddled Nathan with extra baggage that he would eventually have to be rid of…but the girl was different. Elisabeth had been, er, sold, so to speak. Nathan had sold her to a wealthy and powerful Baron who happened to live in Paris…and then she had vanished. Unfortunately for Nathan, the Baron had given him all the money in advance…and now he had no Elisabeth, and the Baron's men wanted to break his legs. Now not only was he in trouble with the wrong sort of people, he discovered that when his wife died she had left all the money to Elisabeth! Could life get any worse for poor, mistreated, misunderstood Nathan? He tripped, flying headfirst into a melted slush puddle; it coated his clothing with freezing cold mud and water. How could things have gotten so out of hand? He had never intended to come to Paris; it was the only lead he had to Elisabeth's whereabouts…but he knew he couldn't stay in Calais…the Baron's men were already looking for him. But then again, he found himself in the lion's den, so to speak…the Baron's men would not have to look far to discover him right under their noses. Nathan found a small back alley and prepared to stay the cold night out on the street.
His wife, on her death bed, had said that Elisabeth might have escaped to Paris with an older sibling that Nathan had not known about. He had demanded a description, but she would not say, and Nathan had ended up throttling her to death…all things considered, Nathan had been doing the old bat a favor. Being beaten and shook to death was much faster than the slow acting poison that would have collapsed her lungs. He was doing her a favor, yeah, that's it. Nathan often had to do people 'favors'; some people just didn't have the will to live…or maybe they would benefit more from the eternal sleep of death, so Nathan put them out of their misery. His conscious thoughts knew the things he did were wrong, but Nathan always found a way to justify his misdeeds. Now, here he was, trying to sleep in the slums of Paris. He had arrived, hoping for some indication of where the girl might be…and had found nothing. If he didn't find the girl, the Baron was going to have his head! It was only a matter of time before he was found…and if there was one thing that Nathan Chien loved, it was himself.
A gust of wind blew a paper into his face. Nathan pulled it away furiously when he noticed a small ad in the bottom corner advertising a masquerade ball at some Opera House. He stared a moment in shock, carefully wiping at the wet ink, smearing some of the letters. But the picture stood out perfectly against the grime around it. There, staring back at him, was Elisabeth. She was dressed in an elaborate ball gown, and held a beautiful mask on a stick. She was flashing a brilliant smile that Nathan found himself mirroring.
"Ah…there you are, love."
Stefan arrived early to the Opera Populaire to oversee the decorations of the entry way for the masquerade ball. Everything was in the traditional red, gold, black, and white…even the dress code reflected the color choices. As Stefan glanced around the room, he couldn't help but smile as the room starting to come together. The entry room floor had been polished to a glowing shine, and the stairs led to more dancing space. There were several balconies that overlooked the main dancing floor, and even a couple that overlooked the Paris ambiance. Stefan motioned for one of the maids to move past him when he heard Erik's voice.
"No! What the Hell were you thinking?"
Stefan looked up into the small orchestra area. Erik was standing over Donovan, his face red in anger.
"You cannot change the arrangement of this piece! I forbid it!" Donovan was equally mad.
"It's not your composition…it's Masquerade! You didn't write it, so why would you care if I changed a few things in the song…I'm just trying to make it sound better…more modern and up-to-date."
Stefan chuckled to himself. Erik and Donovan had fights like this nearly every day. Erik was a traditionalist…but Donovan liked the sound of the more modern compositions. They butted heads constantly…but once both calmed down, all would be well…and ninety percent of the time, Erik got his way. Not that it's a big surprise that he always wins, Stefan thought sarcastically of his friend.
"Excuse me, Monsieur…are you the Manager of this fine Opera House?"
Stefan turned his attention to the man addressing him. He was a dirty little man, fat around the middle with a balding spot on the top of his thinning hair. He smelled of stale cigarette smoke and ale…Stefan was unable to stop his nose from wrinkling.
"Yes…I am…and you might be?"
The fat little man held out a dirty hand. "The name's Nathan Chien, Sir…and I'm hoping you can help me." Stefan acknowledged his introduction with a nod of his head, declining to touch the man's hand. Chien didn't seem to notice, however; he put on a broad grin.
"I was looking in the papers, Monsieur, and I found an advertisement for the Bal Masque…there was a girl in the ad…she looked a lot like my daughter. Her name was Elisabeth Peters, and she ran away from home about four months ago…she left me and her dying mother, and it was her mother's last wish that I find her…please, do you know where she is?"
Warning bells were ringing harshly in Stefan's head. Elisabeth…the last name was wrong, but she had certainly appeared in the ads…but what about Erik? He had said that his mother had died ages ago…and there was too close a family resemblance to say they weren't related…what was going on?
"You are mistaken, Sir…I know of no 'Elisabeth Peters'," Stefan replied swiftly. "All the girls we hired for the ads were models from another agency…our own employees are very much occupied and too busy to appear in our ads, unfortunately. I am sorry to hear of your loss, Sir, and I bid you good luck in your search elsewhere." The emphasis on the last word was enough to tell this vile man that the conversation was over. Chien nodded his head and turned and left the building. Stefan sighed in relief, but then yelped in fright as a hand reached from the shadows and pulled him within. Erik quickly let go of Stefan.
"I'm sorry, my friend…but who was that man?"
Stefan eyed him heatedly. "You should tell me! He claims to be Elisabeth's father…says she ran away from her sick mother…you have some explaining to do, it would seem."
Erik's eyes were far away. "Was the man named Nathan?"
"Yes."
Erik swore loudly with a string of expletives that would make a sailor blush. Stefan looked at him in alarm. Erik sighed, expelling the rage within him.
"That man is not Elisabeth's father…he is her stepfather; estranged, and with good reason. I will explain all; come with me."
Stefan and Erik went to Stefan's office and sealed themselves in. Erik explained everything: meeting his mother for the first time in years; saving Elisabeth from harm and death; Elisabeth pleading for him to take her and Brian away; finding out later what her stepfather had in store for her.
"It has always haunted the back of my mind that she would be found…Nathan is an evil man, Stefan; unspeakable things were planned for my sister, all by that man's hand. I have tried to protect her...but she is drawn to the stage and the spotlight; it was only a matter of time before her picture would appear in the paper, people would know her by name...word will eventually travel: I do not blame you, my friend...plase don't think that. I sometimes regret my rash decision to bring Elisabeth to this Opera House...but I have never regretted taking her from that uncouth man.I am sorry for not being totally honest with you. We thought the less that knew, the better."
Stefan nodded. "We must keep an eye on this, Erik…this could become a problem. The man had trouble written across his face with every word spoken. I have no doubts that this Chien would hurt Elisabeth if he finds her."
Erik's eyes glowed. "We shall make quite certain that he never gets close enough to her to have the chance…"
The night of Bal Masque finally arrived, bringing with it excitement and entertainment. The Opera Populaire looked mesmerizing, and as Erik and Christine entered the ball room area, even Erik had to stop and stare in amazement at the sheer number of people who had chosen to attend the annual masquerade ball. Erik grasped Christine's hand tightly as the feeling of claustrophobia began to settle in. Christine raised the mask she wore over her face slightly, and kissed Erik's bottom lip.
"Love, this time you fit perfectly…enjoy the night." Erik smiled as he deepened the kiss, feeling Christine's arms move around his neck…
"Wow…most people like to keep that kind of thing in a more private setting." Erik grinded his teeth together in annoyance and pulled away from Christine. He glanced at the Vicomte in a look of utter loathing.
"What my wife and I do is none of your concern, Vicomte…I seem to remember a time when you had no trouble displaying your affections in a most public way…"
Christine gave Erik a warning look. "Raoul, where is Elisabeth? I thought you were taking her as your date?" At the word 'date', Erik grimaced and set his jaw.
"I am…I haven't escorted her from her room yet. She was having trouble with her dress, from my understanding." Erik leaned in close to the Vicomte.
"Don't let her out of your sight tonight, boy. It is imperative that she remain in your company…no matter how I might object." Raoul nodded in understanding. Erik had explained the situation to him earlier.
"I shall be on the look out for a ghastly man with a smell…shouldn't be too hard to spot." Erik rolled his eyes and poked Raoul hard in the chest, pinning him uncomfortably against the wall without seeming to obvious.
"You think he wouldn't take the time to change into respectable clothes to blend in? You are more foolish than I thought, Vicomte. Just keep your damn eyes open…I will be watching."
"Well, if you're watching, then what is the point of me watching?" Erik gave a low growl and Christine had to put a restraining hand on her husband's shoulder.
"Raoul, just go! My goodness, you two will never get along."
Erik glanced over his shoulder as Raoul entered the sea of people surrounding them. "You can say that again. Brainless fop," Erik murmured under his breath.
"Elisabeth, you look fine…what in the world is the hold-up?" Raoul spoke through a closed door. Elisabeth had opened it five seconds previously and had slammed the door in his face. The small glimpse that he got of her look breathtaking…
"Elisabeth! If you stay in your room much longer, the masquerade will be over!"
"FINE!" Elisabeth opened the door furiously. She glared at Raoul. He looked her over.
"I don't see the problem, Elisabeth…you look beautiful."
Elisabeth sighed and shook her head. "I don't have any shoes…Meg borrowed my only pair…"
Raoul looked up in confusion. "You let her borrow your only shoes? My, you're a good friend…"
Elisabeth looked at him in frustration. "I thought I had another pair! But I don't…what am I going to do?"
"Go barefoot?"
"I couldn't possibly…"
Raoul circled her, looking at her closely. "Yes, you could. Your dress covers your feet completely…no one will notice the difference, my dear." Raoul pulled her close into a warm embrace. "Besides…you're not dancing with anyone but me."
Elisabeth blushed. "Oh, Raoul…all right. Let's go!"
Raoul led Elisabeth to the dance floor. Raoul enjoyed ball room dancing immensely, and Elisabeth was a quick study. Soon they tired, and they went to the refreshment table for some ale. Raoul was red faced from dancing; his arms were sore from holding them in the same position for so long. He imagined Elisabeth felt the same.
"I hope that one day they come up with new dances…It's not very fun when your arm feels like it's going to fall off." Raoul laughed as Elisabeth spoke exactly what was on his mind. He scanned the dance floor, searching for Erik and Christine…and found them, the center of a small group. Damn, that Phantom was a good dancer! He made Christine appear to float above the very ground. Raoul scowled just as Elisabeth chose to comment on them.
"Look at my brother and Christine! I believe that they're the best dancers here…"
"I could do better than Erik," Raoul murmured, more to himself than to Elisabeth. Elisabeth heard anyway. She laughed.
"No need to get mad, Raoul. Or are you perhaps a little jealous," Elisabeth teased gently.
Raoul scowled again. "I am not jealous of Erik! How can anyone be jealous of a man with a face like that!" The words had barely left his mouth when a sharp hand stung his cheek. The sound echoed through Raoul's mind.
"How dare you! You have some nerve, Raoul de Chagny…you will not insult my brother in my presence…he is more of a man than you ever will be, deformed or nay!" She spoke quietly and for his ears only. "I shall not be seen with you right now…I am going for some air." Elisabeth spun on her heels and left Raoul standing there, opened mouth and dumbfounded. What had he done?
Elisabeth walked as fast as she could in her bare feet, trying desperately not to attract attention to herself. She headed to the nearest balcony and gasped as the cold air hit her face. She glanced around in relief; she was alone. Elisabeth let the tears fall. How could Raoul hate her brother so? She thought…maybe he had feelings for her. But how could he love Elisabeth if he hated her brother so? It could never work…or maybe Raoul was still in love with Christine. Elisabeth could never take Christine's place…but she didn't want to. She just wanted to be herself. Elisabeth walked to the edge of the balcony and put her head on her hand.
"Nice night, isn't it, love?" Elisabeth felt her insides grow cold as her body filled with recognition at that voice. She turned to regard the little man coldly.
"Nathan. What an unpleasant surprise. I had heard you were in Paris…I would advise you to stay away from me. I am yours no longer."
"Ah, well, that's where you're wrong, love. You belong to me…you just don't want to admit it. Well, technically you don't belong to me anymore…you belong to the Baron. I'm gonna make sure he gets what he's paid for." Elisabeth looked at him as tears filled her eyes.
"You can't do this! I have a life, and it's better than the one I was living before…I didn't know life was better than the Hell I was living in…I will not succumb to you anymore!" Nathan darted forward and grabbed Elisabeth painfully by the wrists. She shriek, but Nathan silenced her with a swift kick into her leg.
"None of that love…now, you know the drill; I'm sure you haven't forgotten. I will kill you if you move."
Elisabeth laughed bitterly. "I don't believe that for a second, Nathan. You wouldn't kill me." Nathan hit her roughly across the mouth.
"You're right, love…but I'll make you wish you were dead…and I'll start with your little boyfriend."
Elisabeth paled beneath the tears and pain. "You wouldn't."
Nathan laughed. "Of course I would."
"UNHAND HER!"
Nathan whirled away from the balcony edge to confront the new threat. "Ah…speaking of the boyfriend…what do you intend on doing with that sword, Vicomte? You want to run me through?" Nathan moved Elisabeth roughly to cover his middle. "Go ahead! Try now!" Nathan laughed, until he felt a sharp stick in his back. He turned his head slightly to discover that one of the shadows had unattached itself from the darkness. A large rapier was now pointed at his back. Nathan's eyes widened in shock as a white mask seemed to float into the air before his eyes. The dark face's eyes glittered in amusement.
"It seems I can 'run you through' as you so eloquently put it, Nathan. Let go of Elisabeth. Now." Nathan did just that. He rapidly turned his body so he faced the talking shadow. The shadow moved closer toward him…and Nathan could see it was a man.
"Who the Hell are you?" The man smiled a cold smile.
"'Who the Hell', indeed, my good Sir…perhaps not so good. Prepare to meet whatever Maker you have, Nathan." Erik raised his weapon as Nathan closed his eyes.
"NO!"
Erik stopped, his sword moving to Nathan's throat. "No? Why, Elisabeth? This man…he has been your tormentor! He deserves death…"
Elisabeth shook her head. "His blood on your hands is not worth it. I will not have you kill on my behalf."
Erik glanced at Elisabeth. "I want to end this, Elisabeth."
"Not like this, brother…not like this."
Erik looked at the pitiful man at the end of his well used blade. "You will never come near me or my family again, Nathan. Or I will kill you…you have my word." The man quivered at Erik's deadly tone of voice. After a full moment of trepidation, the man finally nodded, his fat neck rising up and down on the blade's flat edge. Finally, Erik took his rapier from the man, and Nathan left without another word. Erik looked at Elisabeth, who was wrapped tightly in Raoul's arms. "Did he hurt you?"
Elisabeth hesitated, then nodded. Raoul held her hands to inspect the bruises…and the darkening one on her cheek. Erik looked her over as well. He then directed a gaze that could have killed at theVicomte.
"What the Hell were you thinking, Vicomte!…How could youleave her alone after everything I told you! It's lucky I followed you…you can't follow simple instructions! She could have been killed!" Erik advanced on Raoul slowly. Raoul bent his head in shame.
"I know…I can never forgive myself…I'm sorry, Elisabeth."
Elisabeth stood between her brother and Raoul. "Erik…it was my fault…I went off on my own." Erik's eyes softened a touch, but then hardened in protectiveness.
"You foolish girl…I can't lose you, Elisabeth…you have to start listening to me, or I swear I'm going to lock you in your room!" Elisabeth hugged him.
"Thank you, Erik…you saved my life. I think that's twice I owe you," Elisabeth said, trying to make light of the horrible situation. She walked over to Raoul, who still had his head bowed. She took his cheeks into the palms of her hands, and she kissed him gently upon the lips. "I'm sorry, Raoul…I should have never have left you…thank you for coming after me…I would have been taken if not for you."
Erik cleared his throat. "Enough with the apologies. We must ensure that this doesn't happen again…although the best insurance was for me to kill the bastard. No matter; Elisabeth, go with the Vicomte to your rooms…get her cleaned up, fop, then return to the ball. Go now!" Raoul and Elisabeth headed inside. Erik fled to the darkest part of the balcony, becoming shadow once more. He raised his hand in a fist and hit the wall hard, feeling the pain spread through him as his dying adrenaline fled him. Erik was relieved that he had thought to follow the Vicomte…his face had been far too easy to read. He knew something was wrong…and Elisabeth was not with him at that. The Vicomte had provided the perfect distraction as Erik slipped in among the shadows, his prey's attention focused solely on the Vicomte, paying no mind to the man coming in for the kill…Erik had wanted to slay him so terribly it almost hurt him…never before had the bloodlust been so much; almost too much to bear. He could still see the man in his mind…could see his life ebb away as his life's blood drained away from him…it would have been very satisfying. Erik sighed as he shook his head to clear it. He had respected his sister's wishes…he only hoped that he did not live to regret it.
Thank you especially to my reviewers...I love you guys!