Blind Mask

(by Nicole Gruebel)

Disclaimer: … see chapter 1

Summary of the past chapters: After Erik fled he hides in another refuge beneath a church. With him is a woman, who suffered wounds from the burning opera. He had kept her asleep while he was tending her injuries and trying to settle down.

I want to thank again my beta-reader Lotte Isilya … it's good to have someone watch over the story when you're not writing in your native language!

Chapter 3 – Painful awakening

The fire was everywhere. It was hot and fierce. She had tried to escape this deathtrap, but she couldn't move now. The flames bit her like the whip of an angry master. Everything was hurting, but the panic was stronger. She didn't want to die in this blazing heat! Not really knowing if it was her voice or the cracking, burning wood around her that filled her ears with as much pain as her body, she tried to struggle free once more.

Erik had to touch the wall before him, to make himself believe that it really was closed. Well, not that this was a surprise in itself. This was the entry to his refuge and it was supposed to look like a regular stone-wall, but it should have been opened by the switch he had used before turning around the last corner. The mechanism was rather simple, it hardly could break down - and after all it had worked a few hours ago when he had fled here. Ayesha seemed to be equally disturbed by this, for her ears twitched nervously, while she sniffed at the wall.

Frowning Erik pressed his ear to the secret door and heard what the cat had already sensed. Someone was moaning and crying inside. 'The woman!' he thought startled. 'But what could have happened? How could she seal this door?' The walls were thick, even the false ones, so that nobody might hear Erik and his music up in the church or in one of the other near buildings and streets. However they didn't block every sound when you were so near, just like there was more than one entry.

While Ayesha stayed behind, sniffing curiously at the bags, her food-provider and protector ran back into the tunnels, took some different turns than before and squeezed himself through a very narrow passage at which end he climbed down a rusty ladder. Erik's hair and clothes were full of cobwebs and dirt. He had to wade though a shallow sewer and so his boots were soaking wet when he finally pushed open the hidden trapdoor. Secretly he was thankful that he hadn't covered this one with some furniture, but only with a heavy carpet.

In a heartbeat he recognized what must have happened. The woman was thrashing around wildly, but didn't seem to be awake. Obviously the morphine hadn't been strong enough to prevent nightmares and it certainly was no cure for the fever that shook her now. Erik tried to hold her still, before she could do any further harm to herself or the interior. She already had tossed away most of the cushions and her blanket. Some pieces that he had kept on the little table beside the bed had been knocked over. 'No wonder that she accidentally has found the switch to seal the entrance ... she could have done far worse' Erik thought sighing. Of course he had never imagined that this security-device would ever be activated from someone in the room, while he was outside. 'I really have to be more careful with her around.'

He talked soothingly to the woman and was not very surprised when she calmed and relaxed into his arms. His voice always had been mysteriously powerful and enchanting, just the exact opposite to his loathsome face. As soon as she seemed to rest more peacefully again, he opened the door and let Ayesha in. The cat didn't care much when he scowled at her, because he saw her nibbling on some fish which she had 'stolen' out of the bag.

OOO

After Erik had packed away the rest of the food and the few other 'purchases', he took care of his patient again. Some of the bandages had to be replaced and she needed something against the fever. A little bump on her brow seemed to be new; obviously she had hit the richly carved headboard of the bed. "This compress will cool both, your fever and this bump, but I guess you'll wake up with an ugly headache." Erik was a little surprised when he heard his own words - they nearly sounded as if he really cared about her.

To be sure, he disabled the switch that could seal the refuge from within. The door could be closed manually, too, but that way the outer opening-mechanism was still working. 'I'm glad that I never left Christine alone in the lair beneath the opera house. Who knows in what kind of trouble she might have brought herself!' In fact, he never had allowed anybody to be alone in a room of his, if he didn't prepare it for that occasion. Hardly anybody was ever allowed to enter his domain anyway.

During the day he took a closer look at his belongings, when he wasn't busy with his sleeping patient. Some old inventions seemed ridiculous to him now and he threw them into the room where all kind of old stuff was stored, in case you could use a piece of it once more. But he also found some music sheets or other stuff he nearly had forgotten. The instruments - some flutes and a violin - didn't get much attention at all. Erik didn't even care to uncover the old piano.

Every thought of music reminded him of Christine and how beautiful their voices had mixed. She was a true angel when singing, and she could lift him up into heaven with the wings she gave his songs. The pain of having lost her welled up in him again. It clutched his heart so that it became difficult to breathe. Trembling and with soundless sobs he collapsed on a claret sofa near the piano. The exhausted man didn't even notice when his feline companion curled up beside him.

OOO

'Somebody is crying ...' the incoherent thought slowly made its way to the surface of Erik's mind. He dimly remembered that he himself had felt very miserable, but somehow he knew it wasn't him. A crashing sound and the clanking of breaking glass startled him so much that he bolted up and was wide awake in an instant. Even Ayesha couldn't react that fast, and so he earned some scratches from the cat, who didn't like to be thrown off her sleeping place at all. For a few heartbeats Erik didn't remember where he was and what was going on, but then he recognized his old refuge and everything came back to him. Still a little bit unsure on his legs, since he had fallen asleep in a rather uncomfortable position, he stumbled towards the bed - which was clearly empty.

Another shaking sob drew his attention to a corner behind the abandoned sleeping-place. There she was ... trembling like a newborn fawn, moaning and crying because of her injuries, her sparse clothing and hair wet from the fever. It really was a pitiful sight.

The woman was so caught up in her confusion that she didn't notice Erik. On the other hand she couldn't see, and his soft leather-boots made nearly no sound on the thick carpets which covered most of the floor. So she shrieked and jumped when he touched her shoulder. "Shshsh … calm down. I won't harm you, but you have to get back into bed." Actually it looked as if she had fallen out of it, and Erik wondered how deep he had slept if he hadn't heard that at all. The noise which had woken him had come from a chair she had knocked over. Some glass-figurines, which he had collected years ago and usually were lined up on a near shelf, now lay shattered on the floor. "Be careful, you'll hurt yourself!" he exclaimed, but it was already too late. Sighing he just grabbed her as gently as possible, yet firm enough so that she couldn't cause more trouble, and lifted her back into the bed. The sheets got stained with some blood from her new cuts, but they needed to be changed anyway.

The woman had stiffened when Erik had grabbed her. Now she sat on the bed, hardly any calmer than just a few seconds ago on the floor. Her head turned from side to side in the odd angle that most people used when they couldn't see. She had tried to wrap her arms around herself, but the bandaged burns hurt too much, especially since she had managed to loosen some of them. "Where am I? Who are you?" Her voice seemed to tremble a bit due to the fever and her confusion, but she sounded quite strong and somehow fierce nevertheless.

Although Erik had vowed to help her, he suddenly felt reluctant to reveal too much of himself and his world. As long as she was blind she couldn't see his secrets, but he hoped that she soon would be fit enough to leave his home. After some days with his special ointment the burns could be treated by someone else, too. He would make sure that a doctor was paid and keep an eye on her, so that she'd be fine. "I found you after the fire at the opera house and looked after your injuries."

With shaking hands she felt for the bandage on her head that still was bound tightly over her eyes. "What ... It hurts ..." As she was about to peel at the cloth, Erik, who was standing next to the bed, reached out and stopped her hands. "You shouldn't remove this. Your eyes were hurt by the fire. If they don't heal properly you might never be able to see again. In fact there is no guarantee anyway."

Her hands flew to her mouth as she gasped in shock when those words hit her with the rather matter-of-fact tone of his voice. Some blood from the cuts on her fingers smeared her face. The already wet and slightly stained bandage over her eyes got soaked by tears once more. Obviously the salty liquid wasn't exactly pleasant on her wounds, but she hesitated to touch her eyes again. "You really should stop crying, it's not good for the healing-process." Erik felt kind of awkward. This really seemed to be getting difficult.

"But, I ... I can't pay a doctor or medicine." "There is no need for payment. I know how to help you, but I'm no doctor. You can stay here till you are well again." This time his voice got a little bit softer and less reserved. If he didn't want to drug her most of the time he needed her trust, and he had to trust her, which was far more difficult. "Tell me your name."

She considered her situation. It was hard to think clearly, especially since her head was dizzy and she couldn't even tell all the places where she was hurting. There was no other place where she could go, nobody else who would take care of her. The people with whom she had shared a room in the past few days surely didn't even miss her. 'Run around blinded in Paris ... or stay with this stranger.' Both options were bad, but she wasn't sure if she had any choice at all.

"I'm called Noelle."

In an attempt to be friendly Erik asked: "Oh, are you actually born on Christmas, Mademoiselle?"

Her mouth twitched and matched her suddenly slightly annoyed voice: "No, I was just found at that time and the people at the orphanage choose names for abandoned bundles rather practically." Obviously this was a delicate matter to her. But just as if she saw how her benefactor did raise a curious eyebrow, her cheeks blushed because of the unfriendly tone she had used.

"Well, my name is Erik" he simply said. He could sympathize with her for the feeling of being unwanted by the own parents and he didn't care much about good manners right now. Still, he didn't intend on encouraging neither her self-pity nor her rather rude behavior, so he kept his voice neutral.

Noelle, however, got curious. "Only 'Erik', Monsieur?" She was afraid to have overstepped the invisible line of courtesy again, but the words were out anyway.

A slight smile graced his lips. 'Well then, I have no more to lose than she' Erik thought before he answered. "Yes. My bonds to my family were never strong enough so that I could accept its name."

To be continued …