Author Notes:
Glitter Queen of the Ice Show: Lol that you do. I see you're a Raoul fan. I think you'll be pleased with this story then.
Mrs. Malfoy: Why thank you! I would have loved to have been on the Titanic. I never really liked the movie but I've been fasinated with the whole story, so much in fact I've started writing a script for a Titanic type movie set on a ferry boat... should be interesting. Thankee for reviewing!
Chapter five
A Magical Musical Lesson
Christine left the dining room shortly after Carlotta did and made her way to the chapel. She wanted to hear the soothing voice of her angel. She wanted to know that she wasn't imagining things and that the angel of music really did visit her. She walked down the dimly lit corridor and entered the chapel. She again lit another candle and waited for her angel to voice himself to her.
Christine…
"Angel I am here!"
Shall we begin some scales? Erik asked.
Christine nodded and the musical lesson began. As Christine sang Erik saw an immediate change in her voice. She seemed happier; it seemed as if her soul itself was singing. Christine at one point had been a great singer and had a perfect voice, well according to her father she did. He had always told her that the Angel of Music would come to her and help her sing. Everyone who had heard her voice knew she would go far. But when her father died he took a piece of her with him. She seemed to loose her voice as well as her very soul. She stopped thinking that the Angel of Music would come to her and now here he was helping her sing. She seemed to regain her voice from yesteryear. They practiced Aria's from Faust, Don Giovanni, Romeo and Juliet and Othello. The night wore on in the little chapel and the candle burnt out but Christine hardly realized it. At one point when Erik checked his pocket watch it read 330. He waited for Christine to finish a song when he interjected.
Christine, it's time for you to go to bed.
"But Angel I want to sing more with you!" She objected.
And I want to hear you sing. I want to see your voice soar above the heavens but without sleep your singing will mean nothing.
Christine sighed. "Of course my angel."
Christine stood up and made her way to the door.
Good night Christine.
"Good night my angel."
She left the chapel and so did Erik. He went back to his home through his many secret passageways. On the way back to his lair he passed by the furnaces. Hidden in the shadows he watched the workers pile the coal into them. He could still remember what had happened.
"Erik!" The work captain said.
The young lad obediently ran down to meet him next to one of the furnaces. The man, Theodore or dory as everyone called him, still had not gotten used to Erik's masked face. The young boy was sharp though. Exceptionally sharp for a fourteen year old. Dory thought as he obediently ran up to him.
"What do you want me to do sir?" Erik asked.
"Climb into that furnace." Dory said pointing to the one on the right side of Erik, "And clean around in there. The brush is already in there."
"Yes sir." Erik replied.
"That's a good lad." Dory said walking off to do other chores.
Erik opened the furnace's door and left it open to signify there was someone in there and began brushing the walls and making sure it was spotless before the first test runs. As he cleaned he heard a loud alarm and the furnace door closed shut. He panicked and ran to the door trying to pry it open. The furnace began to get hot and Erik screamed to let others know he was in there. It kept getting hotter and hotter and his shabby clothing began to catch fire. He dropped to the floor in agony as the flames engulfed him. He knew he was going to die in the ships furnaces. His mask caught on fire and the flames damaged his face some more; dancing across his small but strong body.
They're trying to kill me! Erik shouted inside his mind. He had to get out. He was not going to die in the furnaces. The flames attacked him on all sides as he made his way to the door. He tried pushing it open but it would not budge. There was a small glass curricular window that if broken, Erik could escape. He tried punching it but to no avail. He looked around and found a metal poker next to the door. It was red hot and when he touched it, it burned his skin off and he yelped in pain.
This is the only way out. He thought as he grabbed onto the poker. He howled in anguish as the red hot poker burnt off layer after layer of skin. He lunged the sharp end of the poker at the small window and after three attempts it burst open. He quickly dropped the poker and began climbing through the window. It was lucky for him that he was so skinny or else he would have been stuck in there. With one final push he escaped the fiery furnace that should have claimed his life. He landed on his hands and he screamed in excruciating pain. He got off of the floor and ran down through the secret passageways. It took him what seemed like forever to get to his somewhat furnished little home in a secret passageway not known to the builders. His hands were still bright red and every movement caused them great pain. He found some water and plunged his hands in. It still hurt but it was somewhat of a relief.
They tried to kill me. Well let them believe I'm dead. But I will not leave this ship.
Erik snapped out of his reverie and looked at his gloved hands. The accident had damaged so much of his skin he couldn't wear short sleeve shirts or cut off pants. It would remind him of the pain so many years ago. He wore gloves so he wouldn't have to see the scars on his hands. He dressed in black evening dress all the time because the black reminded him of death. A death that should have been his. Also black served as a good colour to hide him in the shadows. He also added a black cape and a black fedora well because they looked pretty dang swell and even a Phantom had to look fashionable. He continued walking down to his lair and when he arrived he felt too tired to work on his Opera. He climbed into his coffin bed and drifted off into what he hoped would be a dreamless sleep.
