Chapter 7 The Devil's Trill

Meg managed to find something to eat – cheese, bread and an apple. She wasn't sure how long had Erik left her in the small pantry, but she soon felt cold and started to rub her arms. It was uncomfortable to sit so curled up between those small four walls. She could hear the organ playing. She managed to get up and touch the door with her small hands.

''Erik...'' she whispered, caressing the wooden door.

''Erik, please, let me out...Let me out!'' she started to cry as she felt the horrid sting in her throat, the one she would always get when she was about to get a bad flu.

''Erik! Please!'' she shouted as much as her voice allowed her. Erik didn't hear her. By his expression you couldn't tell if he couldn't hear her because of the loud and furious music from the organ or if he chose not to listen to her sobs. Hours went on and Meg's pleas became more and more silent. Erik stopped playing after awhile and stood up from his organ. He slowly walked over to the pantry and looked at the door. The silence was quite eerie and he didn't want to admit, but he was growing worried. He unlocked the door and slowly opened it. He saw Meg, pale and unconciouss.

''Meg...'' he whispered and realised that it was almost a cry. He approached cautiously for some reason and kneeled infront of her. He couldn't understand...Had he had left her so long in there? He knew it was always cold in that small pantry.

''Meg...'' he reached out to touch her face, his eyes almost pleading for hers to open. Suddenly, she woke up and jumped on him.

''You...!'' she screamed pushing him to the ground. She hit him with her small clnched fists. Erik had no trouble in turning her over and getting on top of her. He laughed cruely and shaked his head as Meg tried to push him off.

''Get off me! Get off me!'' Erik held down Meg's wrists and came closer to her face.

''Tisk, tisk, little Meg...'' Meg spat in his face and frowned.

''Get – off – me!'' Erik looked at her for a moment, licked the spit off his face and gave a wicked grin to Meg. He got up and pulled her to stand up.

''I hope you've learned your lesson, little Meg.'' As he turned to walk away, Meg grabbed his arm and looked at him sharply. Erik truly couldn't believe this girl! She truly was a fisty one. She dared to challenge him with such a manner of behaviour.

''...What has happened to you? You couldn't have been this way before; my mother told me so.'' Erik was suprised by her soft and gentle tone. What did she mean? How did he become such a monster? He laughed cruely again and pulled her close to him, holding her wrists.

''You want to know? You want to know so bad, little Meg? Then look at what your dear Arawin will never paint!'' he made her ripp of his black mask. He saw her eyes grow wide and at first he was grinning, enjoying the fact that she was afraid of him. But as her hand reached to touch his face, his face was covered in confusion. She was touching his face and there was no fear in her eyes, but compassion. He looked at her in those moments of silence, cherishing the feel of her tender skin against his disgusting flesh. She reminded him so much of her mother...The beauty, the innocence, that look in those blue eyes...He removed her hand from his face, not roughly, but gently and muttered:

''Leave me be now...'' Meg got down and picked up the mask from the floor. She approached him and put it back on his face.

''You should know...I would never have taken the mask off...'' she backed away and turned to leave when Erik called out:

''Megan!'' she stopped for a moment and looked at him. He took a deep breath and reached out his hand to her. She looked at him confused for a moment, but then he spoke:

''Come...'' she approached him and took his hand.

''I love the view from up here...'' Meg said with a smile, looking at the city of Paris at night from the rooftop of the Opera Populaire. Erik sat next to the statue of the Appolo's lyre and held his violin in his hand. Meg looked at him, a sad smile across her lips. Erik seemed lost in his own thoughts, looking out in to the distance. Meg looked at him and spoke up:

''Why don't you play something?'' Erik broke away from his thoughts, fixing his gaze on Meg now.

''No...This violin...It has become a habit for me to carry it every single night with me on the rooftop...Hoping she would be there to listen to me play it...'' Meg walked over to him and looked down to his hands which held the violin. She looked up at him and whispered:

''Well, I'm here to listen...Would you play for me?'' Erik saw those eyes give him that strange, sweet bitter look and he simply shook his head and sighed.

''Alright...For you, Megan.'' He felt a strange beat in his chest as Meg smiled at him and sat down to watch him play. He played a piece that haunted him troughout his life, a piece he never played to Christine for it was inappropriate for an Angel to play such a piece. But Megan knew him, she saw his darkness and was not afraid of a Demon. He started to play ''The Devil's Trill''. Meg knew nothing of the piece, but the melody made her heart race. It was not only the notes, the beauty of the tune, but the way in which Erik played it. He put such passion in to every swing of his bow across the strings...Meg wondered if she had half that passion when she danced. Meg even started crying as she watched him. Erik noticed this as he was about to finish the piece and stopped. He knelt down infront of her and said:

''What's wrong...?'' she smiled at him and threw her arms around his neck whcih took him by suprise.

''That was beautiful Erik...Never stop playing, alright?'' Erik couldn't be even more confused, but that warm embrace of Meg's small body made him tremble. He slowly hugged her back and burried his face in Meg's shoulder. They stayed for awhile that way and all the while a pair of eyes studied them.