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16
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"Who de what?" Jack asked.
"Le Vicomte Raoul de Chagny. That's him!"
"And that would be...?"
"The man who married my beloved Christine."
Jack's eyes went wide. "Wha? Really? Him? Ew... if I could choose between small, light and meek or tall, dark and handsome, I'd definitely go with you. You big, sexy hunk of man, you," Jack said, elbowing Erik in the ribs.
"That's-- okay I'm not even going to go there. We have to get out of here."
"Why?"
"We must warn Christine. I don't think she knows. If she did then I don't think she would have married him in the first place."
"Aye, that's a fine plan. There's only one flaw."
"Which is?"
"You have no idea where this Christine lives."
Erik opened his mouth to argue against Jack's words, then realized that the man was completely right. Christine could be anywhere. He thought for a moment, then the argument which he had wished for entered his mind. "Christine is married to a Vicomte. Surely their residence is known by the populace, what with them being in the public eye."
Jack scratched his head, thinking about what had been said. "Hmm... you could be right," he agreed. "Let's get out of this dump and see what we can do."
Erik nodded and they exited through the cracked door, looking both ways as they walked along the path. They had met no one while traveling the path, but when they were about to turn back onto the main passage, voices and footsteps could be heard approaching again. They slinked back several feet into the path, standing as close to the wall as possible, their breathing rapid with fright, praying that the men would choose any other path to continue onto except theirs. When several silhouettes passed, carrying the normal chatter along with them, Jack and Erik let out sighs of relief, moving away from the wall. They turned onto the main passage and, with eyes open for further annoyances, made their way back to their starting point.
They hid behind the rock once more, crouching down in front of the massive thing. "How are we supposed to get out? The exit's sealed up," Erik whispered, staring up at the sandy ceiling where the hole that they had fell through had been.
"Well James had said that he had climbed atop this here rock and then felt around. He caught hold of a lever, moved it, and the gap opened."
"James?" Erik asked with a laugh. "The old man?"
"Yes," Jack replied, frowning. After making sure no one was around, he climbed up on top of the rock and felt around for a lever of any sort. He came up unsuccessful and snarled, coming back down to Erik on the ground.
"I'll try," he said, pushing past Jack and climbing atop the large rock himself. He felt carefully along the area until his hand struck the lever Jack had been searching for. "Found it," He announced.
Jack looked up at him, hardly able to believe that he'd found it so fast. Quickly, he pulled himself up onto the rock, next to Erik. He almost lost his balance and grabbed onto Erik's arm. "Let go of me," he barked.
"Just pull the bloody lever and get us out of this horrid place already," Jack ordered, still clutching onto Erik.
Erik pulled the lever and the ceiling began to shake before his eyes. Sand fell as a hole began forming above them. When it had finished forming, and looked to be big enough for them to fit through, Erik grabbed onto the sides and hoisted himself up, planting his feet back on land. He bent down and offered Jack his hand.
Jack took Erik's hand and he was pulled through the opening, coming out of the pit and returning to the sandy plain. He brushed himself off and looked down at the gap, seeing it begin to shake again as it closed up immediately. And then everything returned its calm and it seemed as if the whole experience had only been some kind of sick daydream.
They found their way across the island back to their 'borrowed' boat, untying it, getting back inside and rowing off, back to the coast. Jack returned the boat in its spot when they reached the dock, attempting his best to tie it back up exactly as it had been before he decided to 'borrow'. With one final glance, he decided it was good enough and continued up the side of the shore with Erik.
"Now... they're probably still residing in France," Erik said thoughtfully as they walked. "That means we'll have to get all the way back to Paris."
Jack sighed as they reached the side of the road once again. "Aw, man," he said in exasperation, throwing his thumb out to the passing carriages.
A shiny, black carriage stopped in front of them and the driver, with a tall, fancy top hat upon his head, craned his neck to look at them.
"Going to Paris?" Jack asked hopefully.
The driver shook his head and took off. Jack let out a long breath of air, kicking at the dirt on the ground with his feet. He walked along the road, his thumb extended. He waved it at various carts, buggies, wagons and carriages which crossed his path. Erik followed along slowly behind, not wanting to draw too much attention.
Jack growled in his frustration and sulked his head. When he raised it, he was met with an amazingly large wagon stopped in front of him, in fact it was so large that it was comical. There were vertical stripes along its surface, red and white. The top bent up into a point, almost tentlike. It was drawn by four horses, white as snow, who wore fancy bejeweled headpieces with feathers spouting from the tops. An absurd looking clown poked his head out from the wagon and stared at Jack with big, dopey eyes. He frowned, then turned it into a smile. "Need a ride?" The clown asked in a voice just as dopey as his appearance.
Jack narrowed his eyes on the clown's giant, red, circular nose. "Yes I--"
He was cut off when he was pushed down to the ground from behind. Erik had tackled him and was trying to hold him down. Jack struggled beneath him. "What are you doing?" He yelled over and over again, trying to break free of Erik's force.
The clown leaned his head out farther, inspecting the situation on the ground. A look of confusion came over his painted face. "I see you're busy now..." The clown said in a saddened voice. "I'll just leave you to do... whatever it is you're doing," He said, disappearing back inside the wagon. It started forward slowly, perhaps because of its large mass, and left Jack and Erik to their dealings on the ground.
Jack struggled to get his head up, watching the carriage turn the corner and vanish. But before it had went out of his sight, he had noticed, through the wagon's back opening, an ape and a ballerina in transport. Along with the clown, the size of the wagon, and the bright vertical stripes, the entire thing was completely laughable. These things pointed to one of two things: either it was a wagon of nuts or a wagon of circus performers. Even though Jack wanted to go with the first consideration, he decided that it was more likely that the second was the correct one.
"Get off! Get off of me!" Jack grumbled, pushing Erik off of him. Both men got to their feet and wiped themselves off. "What's the big idea, there? You want to get back to France and warn this Christine or not?" Jack asked, exhausted from the struggle. He breathed heavily, trying to regain his breath.
Erik breathed in and out weightily as well. He ran a hand along his hair piece, making sure it was in its place. "I do. I just... I..."
"We could've been on our way now if you could keep your hands off of me," Jack remarked, offering a chuckle.
Erik frowned, not finding anything funny. "I couldn't go with them."
"Why?"
"Because they were carnival people."
"You've got something against the carnies? What did they ever do to you? Shortchanged you on a game once, maybe?"
Erik swatted a hand at Jack. "No. It's not like that at all. It's... it's complicated. I guess I should have told you back when we were swapping stories, but I didn't think it was important that you knew."
"Knew what?"
"I..." Erik began, he looked at the corner that the wagon had disappeared behind only minutes before, breathed in and out, then looked down at his feet. "I can't tell you."
"Mate, I have a feeling that we're going to be together for a long time. I'm going to find out everything sooner or later so there's no point in keeping secrets. Spill."
Erik brought his head up to look at Jack, an expression of anguish taking over his face. His mouth drooped with sadness, his eyes glassy like the eyes of the dead animals on James's wall, Jack could swear that he could even see tears forming in the corners of his eyes. It was only for a moment, however, because in the next instant, Erik lowered his head to his shoes again and even if the man was crying, Jack would not be able to tell.
"There was a carnival. It was terrible. Awful," Erik said slowly, thoughts passing though his mind, Jack oblivious to all of said thoughts.
"You can't let one bad carnival ruin your life. It's okay," Jack tried reassuring him, patting Erik on the back. He didn't like the idea of a grown man crying and was hoping that his assurance would put his tears to a halt.
Erik pulled away from Jack's hand and turned to the wall which they stood next to. He placed his hands flat against its surface and leaned his head against the hard bricks. His voice came out forceful and full of power, "It was nothing to do with the carnival itself, you bumbling clod!" Then his tone dropped down to a whisper, 'It was... the... the... cage."
Jack stepped back, watching Erik against the wall. "A cage?"
Erik nodded his head against the wall, refusing to look at Jack. "Cold, steel bars against my skin. Straw lined the floor. The bag on my head! Oh, the bag!"
"What bag?"
"A small itchy sack with eyeholes cut into it so I could see. It was infested with bugs, however. How I would scratch and scratch! But the itching never went away. I would scratch until my skin began to bleed under my fingernails. And then he would hit me."
"Who'd hit you?"
"He was terrible! A terrible, terrible monster of a man. He told them I am a monster. But if I am a monster then he is even more of a monster. The things he did to me! I was tortured in that entrapment."
Jack raised his eyebrow, not quite sure what to say now.
"But he was the one who received the final torture in the entrapment," Erik said, his voice now sounding distant, as though he were off somewhere else. He lowered one of his arms from the wall and reached into his back pocket, tenderly placing a hand over the noose rope which was placed inside and hanging loosely from the pocket. He let his hand linger for a moment before pulling it back and placing it against the wall again.
Jack watched the action, feeling very uncomfortable being there with him at the moment. He stepped back another pace, looking around at the other side of the road to see whether he could spot anyone's presence. Just in case...
His voice was a tone barely audible. "And then she came and helped me in my flight. And that was how I came to live in the opera house. It was because of her kindness. Her kindness... contrasted against his cruelty. He paid, though. He paid dearly. But his wager still could never measure to my suffering..." His tone suddenly raised to a booming note, "I hope he's rotting in hell!"
Jack shivered and stepped forward to Erik once again. He placed a hand over his slumped shoulder which covered his face against the wall. "Uh... there, there. Everything will be okay," He said stiffly, patting him.
Erik pulled away from the wall and Jack's hand with great speed and stood face to face with the pirate. His eyes, not the slightest bit tear-filled in the least, shined and glowed their red tint of fury, seeming to burn a hole in the direction he stared: Jack's skull. "Why me?" He suddenly asked with great distress. "Why me?"
"Um... I don't know. But... uh... I highly disagree with... uh... whatever it is that happened. Damn them, those monsters! They should be ashamed for what they did to you!" Jack yelled, trying to act as if he knew what he was talking about.
Erik nodded vigorously, the burning in his eyes lessening. "Yes!" He agreed. "The inflicted torment will not go unpunished." He began coming closer to Jack.
As Erik stepped a pace forward, Jack stepped an equal pace back until they were pushed back onto the road. A carriage saw them and stopped, a rich, fancy, large, French man peering down at them from atop his perch. "Do you need a lift?" He asked with a French accent, looking down at the men.
Jack and Erik's eyebrows went up, Erik's eyes ceasing to burn brightly and returning to their normal shade. They both turned from eachother to look at where the voice was coming from. They offered forced smiles to the French man. "Yes, Monsieur," Erik replied in a weak voice. He cleared his throat.
"Well, then what are you waiting for? Go on," He said enthusiastically.
They looked at eachother then slowly began to the back of the carriage. After getting in and sealing the door, they sat facing eachother in silence. The silence was broken by the French man saying, "I can only bring you until Paris, Monsieurs. Is that okay?"
Jack gripped onto the seat in front of him and turned around. "Yes! That is perfect!" He said, a real smile forming over his face. He let go of the seat and turned back to Erik. Nudging his head in the direction of the driver, he nodded. "That's just luck now, isn't it?" He said in a cheery tone.
Erik shrugged. "I suppose."
The rest of the carriage ride was filled with silence, except for the occasional whisper by Jack while playing his 'count the carriages' game when he spotted a new one and had to say its digit.
The carriage turned onto the Paris roads a long time after they had first set foot in it. The driver yelled out something in French, pulled on the horse reigns, and the carriage came to a smooth halt. He turned around to his passengers. "End of the line, Monsieurs," He stated, smiling at each man.
"Thank you for the ride," Jack thanked, reaching over Erik and pulling open the door. They exited the carriage and returned to land. As they were about to leave the driver behind, he suddenly called out to them, "Monsieurs!"
They turned around, befuddled, wondering what was wrong and the driver removed a hand from its holding spot on the reigns and pointed a finger at Erik. He narrowed his eyes in concentration, studying him. "Do I know you?" He asked curiously.
Erik shook his head from side to side violently, so much a no that it was nowhere near possible to ever perceive the reply as a yes.
The driver cocked his head to the right, wagging his finger in Erik's direction. "No, no. I know you. I've seen you somewhere before. Where do I know you from?"
Erik shook his head again with the same force. "No, Monsieur. You are mistaken."
"But that mask! I know it. It's associated with something... what is it?" He asked himself, his finger now on his chin as he thought.
Erik shook his head softly this time to himself, grabbing onto Jack's arm. The man was sure to realize who he was any second now. "Go!" He yelled, pulling Jack roughly along, breaking into a quick run.
The man looked up to see them running off and beyond. He shook his head. Rude. Very rude, indeed. He still wanted to remember where he had seen that man and what he was associated with or else he'd be pressing himself about it for days. He tilted his head upwards and gazed at the horizon. The top of the old Paris Opera house off in the distance caught his eye. The fading sun's rays reflected off the window glass that had been put in several weeks ago when the mission to restore the opera was put into place by the city. As his eyes passed over the roof of the building, recalling the great fire which had consumed what was once the most popular entertainment zone in Paris, his face contorted into a look of disbelief and he grabbed onto the reigns with both hands firmly. He gulped.
"Opera ghost," He said in a hushed tone and pulled on the reigns. The horses started off on their trot and led him off through the roads.
Jack and Erik walked down a street which they had not been through before. In fact, Jack realized that they were quite far from the dock where his Black Pearl was anchored. This was an entirely different area. Even the houses along this road looked much different. They were far richer and larger than the small dwellings which had filled other streets they had traveled.
"Where are we?" Jack asked.
"We're not that far from the Opera Populaire," Erik replied.
"Where's Christine?"
Erik shrugged. "How am I supposed to know?"
Jack shrugged in return. "I don't know... but I say you should start asking people soon. Right now even. It will be dark in not that much time and I don't like the way these rich people walking down the roads look. They look like they're up to something..."
"Uh... yeah, sure," Erik said, rolling his eyes. They walked on the side area of the road. Various people in fancy dress passed them. Erik opened his mouth to stop a man who was coming their way, but when he came to them, he did not say anything and let the man keep walking. Instead of approaching someone on the street, he turned to Jack. "Jack, did you understand what I was trying to tell you before?" He asked, taking on a very serious tone. He stared at the pirate solidly.
"Um..." He began, unsure of what to tell him. He turned away, saw a fat well-dressed woman coming down the street in their direction, then turned back to Erik. He scratched behind his ear, swallowed, sniffed... anything that would allow him more time to think about how he would respond. Finally he replied, "Well... it was a bit hard to understand... but I think I got the jist of it."
Erik nodded slowly. "Really...? Well I apologize if I was difficult, but it's just really hard to deal with."
"Ah, yes," Jack agreed, looking behind Erik at the sun beginning to set. He took him by the shoulders and turned him around, leading him down the street. "But I'm sure that seeing Christine once again will make you feel all better."
Erik smiled. "Yes, perhaps you are right."
"I know I'm right. Now in order to find her we must ask people her whereabouts."
"Okay."
"So... go do it then."
"Okay!" He said, feeling enlightened already just at the thought of meeting up with Christine Daae once again. He stopped in his place and saw a man passing. "Monsieur!" He called out, stepping in the man's way.
"Ahh! Le Fantôme!" The man yelled and ran away.
Erik sighed and spotted a young woman, "Madamoiselle?" He asked, stepping front of her. She eyed him strangely.
"Oui..."
"Avez-vous l'entendu à la Vicomte de Chagny?"
"Oui..."
"Connaitre-vous son residence?" Erik asked hopefully.
"Non."
Erik sighed again and let the lady pass. He held up a young man in his spot now. "Monsieur, avez-vous l'entendu à la Vicomte de Chagny?"
"Oui."
"Connaitre-vous son residence?" He asked, with more hope that before.
"Oui," The man replied, filling Erik with delight.
He smiled and nodded at the man, "Oui? Alors, c'est où la residence?"
"Dans mon cul, j'espére. Je le déteste le Vicomte!" He said, then walked off.
Erik frowned at the 'witty response', watching the man leave. "Well, that makes two of us," he commented. He had gotten his hopes up all for nothing. "Jack, I don't think this is going to work."
"Aw, don't give up mate. Try a few more at least. Who knows? Perhaps you may get lucky."
Erik nodded and stopped an old couple who were slowly making their way down the street's length. "Excusez-moi," Erik began, stopping the ancient man and woman. "Avez-vous l'entendu à la Vicomte de Chagny?"
The old woman looked at the old man with a furrowed brow. Then they turned to Erik and nodded in unison.
"Bon! Savez-vous son residence?"
They looked at eachother once again, then looked back at him. The old man nodded. "Oui."
"C'est où, la residence?" Erik asked, having a good feeling brew within.
The old lady stuck a wrinkled finger to her wrinkled chin. "Si je me rappelle encore... c'est pas très long une distance d'ici."
Erik glanced at Jack with a smile. He looked back at the old couple. The man began to speak, "Tu descendre ce rue là et après tu fait une tourne vers la gauche. Le rue est appelé 'Triomphe' est il faut que vous marche très lentement quand tu passe. Il y a beaucoup des contrôleurs en l'aire."
"On ne sait pas le numero du maison, on a oublié avec notres ages," The old lady remarked with a chuckle.
The man continued, "Mais souviens que c'est la maison qui est le plus grand et belle et il y a beaucoup, beaucoup des contrôleurs autour le domaine."
Erik reached out to shake both of their hands. "Merci beacoup. Vraiment, merci."
The old couple walked off leaving Jack and Erik to themselves. Erik turned to Jack, "Well, then, let's go!" He said, feeling terribly excited. He might actually get to see Christine again! Oh, how he would treasure the visit. He only hoped he did not faint.
They started walking down the road, as the old couple had instructed them to do. "Where is it?" Jack asked.
"Just follow me. Oh... and there might be some men to watch out for."
"Men?" Jack asked, feeling uncertain as to this little trip.
"Be careful if you see any."
"Okay..."
The long road came to a halt after a while and broke off to left and right turns. Erik began in the left direction, Jack hurrying to follow with Erik's brisk pace. As they moved quickly down the turnoff, the houses seemed to become even richer looking as they passed. "Do you see a road called 'Triomphe'?" Erik asked, wondering where the road was. He did not see any road by that name.
"Uhh..." Jack began. He shrugged, not thinking he had seen any road by such name as well.
Erik picked up speed and began to run. Jack turned his pace to a run as well, holding his hat atop his head so it would not blow off against the wind. Erik inspected the street signs as they came to each intersection, shaking his head when he did not see any 'Triomphe'. He was beginning to think that no such road even existed.
He felt tired so he stopped at another intersection. Letting out a long breath, he leaned his back against a fence to rest. Jack reached him and stopped in front, hunching over and grabbing his legs. He panted like a dog in the summer. Finally he raised up and turned around. The sun had just gone and they were standing in the mist of blue twilight. His eyes met with the street signs on the corner and he squinted against the darkness.
He breathed in and out rapidly and turned back to tap Erik on the shoulder. Incapable of words, he pointed to the street signs. Erik tilted his head to one side, confused at Jack, then looked at the signs as Jack had wanted. He squinted his eyes as well as they passed over the sign's lettering, then his eyes became full and wide. "Triomphe!" He cried.
Jack nodded, letting out a long breath. Erik grabbed him by the wrist and they ran through the intersection, turning on the road named 'Triomphe'. They were faced all at once with a giant mass of a house which sprouted up several stories into the air.
"Holy bejebus!" Jack exclaimed with a look of awe over his face.
"Shhh!" Erik whispered to Jack. "Remember about the men."
"Oh, right. The men."
They advanced, stepping up onto the house's lawn and making their way to the side of the massive living quarters. They began walking around to the back of the house when a man holding a lamp emerged from the distance and began in their direction. Erik pulled Jack flat against the side of the house. The man passed by them without noticing their presence and they exhaled in relief, continuing again. They reached the back, surprising enough without encountering any more men, and saw a large porch. There was glass door on the house's posterior. "Some bunch of men," Jack remarked dully.
"Perfect," he whispered to Erik, rubbing his hands together excitedly. His eyes were on the glass door.
They slowly climbed the porch's stairs, looking all around for any further intruders, saw none, then turned back to the door. Jack pulled a corner of his cape and placed a bundle of material over an area of the glass door.
"What are you doing? You're ruining my cloak," Erik whispered.
"You'll see," Jack replied, placing his hand over the bundle of material. He moved it back several inches, then pounded against the material, creating a hole in the glass. He took the material away and shook the broken glass out. "I hope nobody heard that," he said softly as he carefully reached a hand through the hole and grabbed onto a handle that was on the inside. He turned it slowly and the door opened with a small creak.
Erik nodded. "Hmm... good idea," He remarked, moving past Jack and entering the house through the door's opening. Jack followed in behind, leaving the door ajar. Upon entering the house, they were met with a terribly rich atmosphere. It was as though the entire inside of the house was made of marble and gold.
"Wow. I didn't know that Raoul guy was this rich! I'd love to get me hands on some of this stuff!" Jack said, moving over to a shelf and picking up a decorative plate. He examined it thoughtfully, wondering if he could smuggle it away with him.
"Come away from there. We're not here to see anything except Christine."
Jack pouted disappointedly and placed the plate back in its place on the shelf. "You're no fun."
Erik rolled his eyes, searching for any sign of Christine or where she could be located. With such a big house, she could quite possibly be anywhere. They walked along, seeing a large spiral staircase. He looked down, seeing several floors beneath, then raised his head upwards and saw an equal amount of floors ahead. He scoffed, realizing he would never find Christine in this large contraption. He turned to Jack, "Up or down?"
Jack had his hands out to grab a painting from the wall. He pulled himself away sadly and approached Erik, looking up and down just as he had some moments before. "Up."
"Why do you say that?"
"I don't know. Down."
Erik growled. "Just pick one!"
"Up. Down. No... Up! No... down! Up?"
"Fine. Up," Erik agreed, placing his hand on the railing and ascending the large set of stairs to the next floor above. Jack followed, their capes swooping out behind them with their quick movements.
They stopped on the next floor, peering out. More riches! Jack thought he would suffer a brain hemorrhage if he stayed too long without stealing something. He eyed the various golden statues which lined the walls. Erik pulled him down through a long hall with many doors on either side.
Jack sighed. "Aw, man. She could be in any one of these," He said downheartedly, counting over thirty doors in his head. "Or she isn't and she's somewhere else on the floor. Maybe even on a different floor!"
Erik elbowed Jack in the ribs and he hunched over in pain. Jack opened his mouth to complain, but he stopped immediately as a soft sound began to fill his ears. It seemed all too similar to the experience within Erik's lair when he had heard the organ music for the first time. But now it was not organ music which was hypnotizing him, it was the smooth sound of perhaps an angel, coming from somewhere nearby. He straightened out, his eyes meeting Erik's.
Erik was caught in his spot, frozen. He could not move a muscle, did not want to move a muscle even if he had the ability to do so.
"Is that..." Jack began.
Erik nodded absently, feeling as though he were off in a different world. His legs suddenly began walking and he could not control them. They continued further down the hall and stopped in front of one of the doors. Why it was that particular door that his legs had carried him to, was a mystery. Jack, his hand over his ribs followed Erik, wondering what the man was up to.
The angel's tune was loud now. Very loud. As if it could be coming from the other side of the door which they stood in front of. Erik's hand came up and grasped the door's handle, slowly turning it to the right. He pushed the door open gently, letting the knob slip from his fingers. The wood moved in front of their eyes, parting away from the doorframe and revealing a large decorated room. And at the front of the room a large vanity table with a mirror sat. The mirror was bordered by circular, gas powered lightbulbs, there were various make up products which sat atop the table, cast aglow by the light reflecting from the bulbs. In front of the vanity table there was a chair and inside the chair... there was an angel.
With a brush in one hand, she carefully ran it through her soft locks, inspecting her refection in the mirror which lay in front of her. She wore a white, frilly frock for sleeping. From her luscious lips came a heavenly tune which bounced off of the room's walls and echoed all throughout the hall which was lined with rooms, as well as the rooms themselves. However, she did not realize so.
Seeing her there, dressed as she was, sitting in front of the mirror, Erik remembered of the times he would watch her in her dressing room in the Opera Populaire, seeing her in front of the mirror doing something like brushing her hair just as she was doing now. All those times watching her without her knowledge... and he was doing it again now-- Well, not for long, though.
Christine finished with her brush and put it down on top of the table. She had finished her song at the same moment as well, filling Jack and Erik with deep, dark voids within (though she did not know it). She moved forward, inspecting her face in the mirror. After offering a tired smile to her reflection, her mouth opened in a yawn. As she placed her hand over her mouth to cover it, she tilted her head to the side, noticing something odd in her mirror's reflection. It was the strangest thing! She could have sworn that she was seeing the Phantom of the opera!
She let out a nervous laugh. Or course it was her imagination. She had been seeing him in all of her mirrors for a long time after the opera had burnt down. It had stopped several months before, but every now and then she would be visited by the strange apparition. With a shrug, she cleared up the items atop the table, replacing them into drawers, all the while keeping her eyes on the reflection in the mirror. It was not going away. Usually it would disappear after a few moments... and then what was that next to him? It looked to be another man. It was hard to tell, though, because he was half covered by the doorway.
She slowly raised from her seat, her eyes still focused on the reflection. She pushed the chair under the table and began to turn in her place. Her eyes on the mirror... turning... turning... She lowered her eyes to the ground, then slowly brought them up to the doorway. She covered her hand over her mouth and emitted a high shriek as she saw that it was not her imagination. He was still there! She backed away, bumping into the chair.
With all of her strength, she picked the chair up and lifted it high above her head. "Don't come near me, you... you... you... beast!" She cried, brandishing the chair in her hands.
Erik raised a hand and began through the doorway, slowly approaching her even though she had said not to. He stood in front of her. Jack moved into the doorway, watching the entertainment excitedly. "Christine... my angel... I am not here to hurt you. I--"
She swung the chair at him and he dodged from its path. It struck the side of the vanity table, shattering several of the circular light bulbs. She pulled it back and brandished it in front of him again.
He gulped and placed his hands on the side of the chair, catching it just before she swung it at him again. With little effort he pulled it from her grip and set it back on the floor next to him.
"Who are you? Do you think this is some kind of joke?" Christine asked, in tears.
He extended a hand, wanting to wipe away her hears, but she pulled away. He lowered his hand back to its side slowly. "Why, I am Erik, or course! Your angel of music!"
She sniffed and looked at him. "What?"
"Do you not remember me?"
"I remember, and that is the problem. Now tell me who you really are and why you would do such a horrible thing like this!"
"I am Erik," He repeated.
She raised an eyebrow, inspecting the man who claimed to be the Phantom of the opera. It looked like it was him. It looked that way exactly. But it couldn't be. "No... no. Raoul told me... he told me that you had died in the fire."
Erik's eyes went wide, hearing of the lie that Raoul had told her. "If I had died then how could I be right here standing in front of you?"
"I don't know. Perhaps because you are a very sick man who's decided to come play me for a fool by pretending to be the Phantom of the opera. Well, you should be ashamed of yourself, whoever you are!"
"But I speak only truth! It is I who taught you to project yourself as does an angel. Do you not recall our many joyous sessions?"
She shook her head. "There were sessions. And they were joyous. But there were also the times when you, if you are who you say you are, killed. You killed! And you set the opera ablaze!"
Erik frowned, seeing that the conversation was not going to be anything like how he had imagined it would be. "It was all done in good intention."
She nodded slowly. "Yes. You killed and torched in good intention," She humored. "Why are you here?"
Erik sighed, turning to Jack who stood in the doorway still. He motioned with a hand for him to enter the room. Jack did as was proposed and took a place next to Erik.
"You are married to... Raoul de Chagny?" He asked distastefully.
"Of course."
"Do you think you know everything there is to know about him?"
"No. I know that I know everything there is to know about him," she stated dryly, her tears disappearing and her emotions turning to anger.
"Really?" Jack asked thoughtfully.
Erik threw him a glance, then continued. "I think it may be best if you are seated when I tell you what I am about to tell."
She looked at the two men with a raised eyebrow, then backed away to a large plush chair and planted herself in its hold. She waited for them to continue.
"Miss... uh... Daae? Is your husband home right now?" Jack asked, beginning with his interrogation.
"No."
"Do you know where he is?"
"No."
"Is he often gone like this?"
"Yes."
"And is it quite often as well that you don't know his whereabouts?"
"Yes."
Jack shot an accusing finger out at Christine. "Aha!" He yelled.
Christine looked at Erik as though saying: 'Where did you find this guy?' He shrugged at her and threw another disapproving glance at Jack.
"Have you ever heard of the Blackmail Bandits?" Erik asked, taking over the interrogation process from Jack.
She held her head pensively. "Yes, I do believe I've heard of them once before. They are a gang of thieves, aren't they?"
Erik nodded. "Do you know who their leader is?"
She shook her head. "No. I'm not really all that familiar with them. All I know is that they're a despicable group. I think they kidnap children!"
"Yes! They do!" Jack interjected.
"What if I were to tell you that your beloved husband, Raoul de Chagny is the leader of the Blackmail Bandits?"
Christine let out a faint laugh. "Well, I'd call you preposterous!"
"Well, Christine, then I suppose I am preposterous because I am telling you exactly that now. Raoul de Chagny is the leader of the Blackmail Bandits."
She shook her head and got up from her seat. "Okay now, whoever you are. It's a funny game you're playing but I'm not buying it. Now, I'd like you to leave or I will call the guards."
"What guards?" Jack ridiculed.
"But it's true! Don't you believe me?" Erik asked.
"Yes! We saw it with our own two eyes!" Jack added.
She stared at them coldly. "First of all," She began, pointing at Jack and narrowing her eyes. "I don't even know who you are."
Jack grinned, trying to work his charm. "Well, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow."
She looked at him blankly.
"Surely you have heard of me, haven't you?"
She only stared at him with the same blank look. He frowned and looked at the floor sadly. She turned her gaze and finger on Erik now. "And you, if you are who you say you are! You're stupid and make things up! You lied to me about being the angel of music. How do I know you're not lying now?"
Jack stepped forward. "He's not lying. And if he has lied to you before he's incredibly sorry. He's a good, respectable man. Raoul de Chagny is the liar."
She sat back down in the chair and pondered. "Hmm..." She said, thinking about the situation. "Well... he has acted strange and disappeared at night. There's some weird things he has here as well. I found this odd box in his room several days ago. I went to open it and he came in, pulling it away from me, saying that if I ever went through his things again there would be some serious trouble. I was so afraid of him that day! I'd never seen him act that way," she explained, recalling the incident and shivering.
Jack nodded. "Yes. Well, believe us when we say that he's a bad guy. You need to get out of here ASAP. Right now even!"
"Right now! But I can't... I... I..."
All at once, without even thinking, Erik stepped forward and grabbed Christine, throwing her over his shoulder. As he hauled her away out of the room, she began to kick and scream against him, demanding to be put down. But her tries were feeble compared to his strength. She strained herself so much that her entire body weakened and she passed out.
She was carried from her luxurious home in the middle of the night, not a soul the wiser.