Loss; we must all deal with at some point in our lives, whether it be a simple toy we cherished as a child or the death of someone for which we deeply cared. The concept is often one of our most challenging obstacles we must face in our daily lives. For Erik, loss had become quite common. Memories flooded back and try as he did, he could not stop the onslaught of pain that now wash over him. He remembered how . . .
Sometime after his birth, although not sure when, he was given away to the gypsies, never to see his mother again; not that it mattered much. Although physically present in his life, she rejected him at birth.
A small tear began to form as he thought of how . . .
As a child, he had a favorite toy that was taken from him. It was a small monkey with golden cymbals. He loved that toy so much.
One tear soon became two.
He often played with it, in between his "display" as the Devil's Child. However, one day, Erik had had enough of the daily beatings he received and struck back at his gypsy captor.
He clenched his fists, steeling himself for the pain that continued to flow.
He killed his keeper. Fleeing with who would become a friend for life, Erik took refuge within the depths of the Opera Populaire. He soon learned to take that which he wanted and turned other's losses into his own gain. He gradually built his home, his refuge from the world above. As time progressed, he was blessed with a voice from the heavens. However that too was taken from him, ripping his heart while it still beat in his chest.
Erik thought back, and knew he could not make Christine love him. So he made the greatest sacrifice he could. He allowed her to leave with Raoul and to find the happiness for which he still desperately ached. Nevertheless, the gods did not see fit to allow Erik even a moment of peace. Christine was dead. Erik had one more loss, one more pain to cope with yet again.
As Erik continued to walk back towards Marie-Christine's home, the impact of what he had discovered began to settle within his mind. A light rain only further exasperated his mood. It seemed to taunt him. Nothing in the world was going right for him. He paid no mind to the rain or to the people who passed by him as he continued to walk. He clutched to a nearby wall, each step becoming more and more painful. Seeing that no one was around, he stopped for a moment, retching in an empty alley. His body began to feel the pain that his heart held for so long, heaving and yet unable to rid itself of the anguish that filled him full. Just a few days ago, he thought of nothing except for fleeing Paris and finding a new home along with a new life. Now, he didn't know what he wanted. As far as Erik was concerned, his reason for being, for living, was gone. He didn't care what happened next as he began his plunge into a sea of despair.
"Enough!" He chided himself once again. He looked around and fortunately no one heard his outburst. Erik knew he needed to put his emotions away for the minute. This was not the time for self-pity. In essence, he had to compartmentalize his feelings. Once he fled Paris, he could deal with things, with Fleur-de-lys, with Christine and her death . . . with everything. For the moment, he had to focus his attention back to Marie-Christine.
Erik arrived at the home and for a moment, found that it was rather quiet. Just then, he heard a noise in the adjoining room and proceeded to enter. Walking into the bedroom, Erik found Marie-Christine in a state of undress. Apparently, she was changing her clothes.
"I . . . I'm sorry. Please forgive my disturbance." Erik stuttered as he averted his eyes, but not before taking in the unique beauty presented before him. For a fleeting moment, he was able to forget the pain that had just been inflicted upon him. Marie-Christine was stunning. She stood not much more than five feet tall. Her petite form was complimented by the curves that ran the length of her body along with the flawlessness of her skin. Her auburn colored hair seemed to have an almost ethereal aura to it as it gently framed her face. There was not a single blemish to be found on her being. She truly was an angel. A lump began to form in Erik's throat as Marie-Christine spoke.
"Do you always enter a home without knocking?" She questioned as a slight smile formed at the corners of her mouth. Marie-Christine then realized that Erik was embarrassed for his intrusion. His back was now to her. She quickly responded. "Erik, it's ok. I was going to take a short walk for the evening. Would you like to join me? It might do you some good to get out once more?"
Erik thought about Marie-Christine's offer. She was right. The walk would do him good. Perhaps he could forget his pain for even a short time.
"Yes. That would be . . . nice," he answered as he realized he was actually happy to do something so simple and with such a beautiful woman at that.
"Shall we go then? You can still wear the cloak and scarf if you would like. The air is cool and so it will seem normal for you to dress warmly. I shall do the same." And with those words Marie placed a woolen cloak, which had been lying on her bed, around her shoulders and fastened it across her small chest.
"Ready?" she asked as she extended her arm.
Erik took Marie-Christine's right arm and rested it on his left. Soon they were just another couple strolling through the Parisian night. Walking through the water stained streets and alleys of Paris seemed to have a calming effect on Erik. The rain which had earlier soured his mood, stopped. The bitter cold, which seemed to chill many, was yet another welcome relief for Erik. He could remain bundled up and no one was the wiser. Although hidden within the protective warmth of the cloak and scarf he wore, Erik still felt a bit unsure; afraid that any moment, gendarmes would swoop upon him and take him away; locking him in a cage once more.
"Erik?" Marie-Christine's voice broke his momentary reverie. "Something is on your mind."
"I'm sorry . . . what?" Erik responded. He was obviously distracted in thought.
"What is on your mind?" Marie-Christine inquired; a definitive tone present in her voice.
Erik then relayed the events of the previous hours. He told Marie-Christine of Christine Daaé death and the loss he felt. He did not however, tell her of what occurred at the Opera House. Erik was afraid that Marie-Christine would turn from him as the others had done before. At the moment, he needed something more precious than the love he had once possessed for Christine. Erik needed . . . a friend.
"Was Christine someone dear to you?" she asked, her eyes looking into Erik's. He almost felt as if she was able to see into his soul.
"Very. I . . . cared for her . . . she was . . . special." Erik did his best to find the right words. He wanted to say so much more, but was still afraid.
"I see . . . and now? What shall you do?" Marie-Christine responded.
"I don't know . . . before she . . . died she gave me . . . a . . ." Erik stopped as a small tear began to trick down his left cheek. The pain of remembering Christine was more than he was ready to deal with at the moment.
"A . . .?" Marie-Christine pressed.
"A ring . . . it was so . . . wait," Erik paused as he closed his eyes for the moment.
"What?" she questioned.
"I left it . . . at my . . . home." He told her.
"Then we should recover it. It would be appropriate for you to have it as a remembrance of what the two of you obviously shared together," Marie-Christine offered.
"Yes, I think you're right. I will escort you back home and then I will retrieve the ring." Erik turned to lead Marie-Christine back to her home but was surprised when she resisted his forward movement.
"No. I am going with you," she informed him.
"What?" Erik was clearly taken aback by her response.
"I will go with you and help you find the ring. You need me. I don't . . . just let go."
Erik looked at Marie-Christine as stood her ground. He wasn't sure, but there was something in her eyes. It was fire than he had never seen before. Her defiance caught him off guard a bit. He wanted to merely take Marie-Christine by the arm and lead her back him. However, he could not spare the time to argue with her and so the two of them turn in the direction of the Opera Populaire.
Time lost all meaning as Erik and Marie-Christine made their way to the Opera Populaire. However, Marie-Christine was surprised when Erik took an alternate means of entrance.
"Erik?" she began.
"Yes," he replied.
"This will lead to the Opera Populaire?" Marie-Christine was once again perplexed by this dark and mysterious stranger.
"Yes it will." Erik answered as he tried to hide the irritation in his voice.
"Why don't we just use a regular entrance?" she pressed further.
Taking a deep breath, Erik spoke. "It's better this way. Now may we please continue?" His tone of voice indicated that the discussion was over.
Soon, they were inside the Opera Populaire. They continued through a series of passageways and catacombs. Lighting was at a bare minimum and yet Erik seemed to know his way quite well, pointing out loose stones and helping Marie-Christine avoid falling on more than one occasion.
Reaching what appeared to be an underground lake, Marie-Christine noticed a small boat moored to a post.
"Please sit," Erik instructed, fighting back the memories of when he often took Christine on this journey of so long ago.
Marie-Christine did as he asked and they continued further into the depths of the Opera Populaire. Vision was next impossible for her and so the only indication she had that they were actually proceeding forward was the sound of the pole as Erik used it to move their forward into the water.
"This might take a little time. You may lie back if you wish," Erik offered, gentleness oddly present in his voice. Marie-Christine looked up and caught only a glimpse of Erik's face. She was tired and so she lay back onto the soft velvet pillows that rested inside the small boat. Although she tried, her eyelids grew heavy and soon she was fast asleep.
Erik looked down at the sleeping form resting in his boat. He shook his head as he continued to progress forward through the canals beneath the Opera Populaire. He couldn't believe the impetuousness of this extraordinary young lady. While he marveled at the talents she displayed to him, he couldn't help but wonder the same question he thought of everyone who said they were a friend.
When would she leave?
Erik's thoughts were interrupted as the boat made its way to the edge of the lagoon. "Marie-Christine?" he leaned down and gently nudged her shoulder.
"Mmm . . ." she mumbled as her eyes slowly fluttered open.
"We're here," he informed her.
Opening her eyes, Marie-Christine began to look around and Erik's "home" as it were. Words escaped her as she tried to take in all that was presented before her.
The first thing Marie-Christine noticed was the candles. They burned so brightly. They were everywhere, bringing light into an otherwise dark realm. Next, she glanced at the organ, which was situated at the center of all that she could see. Its size seemed to have no end. The pipes reached high up as thought they would they would touch the heavens. Marie-Christine took Erik's hand that he offered and continued to look around at his home.
"I'll be right back. Please wait here," he instructed. She watched as Erik walked up a small series of steps and over to a desk. He seemed to be rifling through papers, looking for the ring. However, it appeared he was having little success in finding it.
"Damn!" he cursed and he slammed one drawer shut and proceeded to look in another.
Watching Erik's frustration level rise with each passing moment, Marie-Christine decided it was time to step in and help. "Erik?" she called out, but he didn't hear her.
"ERIK!" she shouted this time, the volume in her voice rising so that he had no choice but to turn and face her. The echo lingered within the caverns of the lair.
When he did turn and face Marie-Christine, the look in his eyes was something she'd never seen. It was sheer madness, driven by the loss of a simple object. Looking into his eyes and past the anger, Marie-Christine stepped forward, fighting the lump that was rising in her throat. "Let me help," she offered.
"You can't do anything. It's gone! I can't believe that it is gone." He retorted, venom present in his voice.
Steeling herself for whatever was to come; Marie-Christine took Erik's left hand in hers and spoke. "Erik. Close your eyes."
"What?" he was surprised by her request.
"Close them and think of Christine. Think of the ring. Do as I ask." Her tone was firm yet polite. Erik acceded to her wishes and closed his eyes, unsure of what would happen next.
It was then that Marie-Christine was able to focus and soon a smile crossed her face. She released Erik's hand and ascended the small staircase that led to the bedchamber. Once there, she glanced around and then kneeled down by the head of the swan bed. At the same time, Erik watched with a mixture of fascination and curiosity until Marie-Christine stood up and held something shiny in her hand. It was the ring. Erik immediately flew to her side, taking the small series of steps in two giant strides.
"How did you know?" he asked with astonishment very evident upon his face.
"I am able to see past events that people have experienced. It's not exact, but I'm finding my abilities are constantly changing. I know most of what I can do, but I do find from time to time that I can surprise even myself."
"Thank you," Erik answered as a small tear cascaded down his cheek once more. Marie-Christine reached up to catch the tear. Her smile quickly faded as jumped back from Erik.
"Marie . . ." he stammered, not sure of what just happened.
"I . . . uh . . . Erik?" she stumbled, unsure of what she had just seen. "Are you . . . the Opera Ghost?"
Suddenly, the world seemed to crash once more for Erik. All semblances of humanity quickly disappeared and the Opera Ghost returned once more.
"So now you have found out my secret I take it?" The iciness in his voice chilled Marie to the bone.
"Excuse me?" she replied, unsure of what words would be spoken next.
"Oh come now my dear. Surely you have heard of the Opera Ghost? The man who terrorized so many here under this very roof? Well now I guess you've discovered my secret. I thank you for your help. I will take you back to the surface but if you would permit me time to leave, I would be . . ." Erik was not allowed to finish his words.
"Now wait just a damn minute! Who the hell do you think you are? You don't even know what I saw?" Marie-Christine found that she was actually angry with Erik.
Erik was taken aback by this tone of voice she took with him. "Then let me show you, what all have seen, so that you will know the horror that has followed me from my birth." With these words, Erik removed his mask and flung it Marie-Christine's face. She did not flinch one bit at all.
"I saw the Opera House. I saw the destruction. I also saw how you let the Vicomte de Chagny live and leave with Christine. I saw something else," she continued as she looked directly into Erik's eyes, never once shying away from the vision he now presented before her.
"What?" He spat back, ready to continue the argument.
"I saw compassion and I know there is something else you need but you're too stupid to see it. It's right before your eyes." The ferocity in Marie-Christine's eyes made Erik have a momentary loss for words.
"What?" He managed to say.
"You need and you have a friend . . . in me. I . . . I . . . care . . ." but before Erik could say another word, Marie-Christine walked to him and stood face to face. For what seemed like an eternity, neither of them moved. Then, Marie-Christine did the unexpected.
She kissed Erik.