Shade: For anyone who hasn't seen the play before and is confused, the order of events at this point goes . . . Poor Fool, He Makes Me Laugh, Why Have You Brought Me Here, All I Ask of You, All I Ask of You (Reprise), chandelier go boom. Just so everyone knows. Ok, onwards! (The rest of the events take place as follows in the movie)
"Behold! She is singing to bring down the chandelier!" –Poor Fool, He Makes Me Laugh
Chapter 12: The Fateful Crash
The weeks drew themselves out to be the longest weeks in Erik's life. Nasrin didn't notice the lapse of time as much, for she spent most of her time sleeping as her head injury healed once more.
When the night finally did arrive, Nasrin's ears perked as the orchestra began to warm up and she nodded gravely at Erik.
"It is time," she said, "time to see if my catastrophic plan has the result I dreamed of."
"I'll give you the signal when I want you to cut the support," Erik assured, gathering his cloak in his arms. "We won't do it immediately; I would like this night to entail some sort of amusement for myself."
Nasrin removed her wig and threw it on her bed. She walked over to the table with a few various types of wigs. She took a wig identical to the one Erik had just put on, and tightened it over her head. Putting the mask and her cloak back on, she turned to him. "So do I."
They climbed in the boat and rowed off, hearing the orchestra grow louder with each oar stroke. This time however, Nasrin didn't sing at all; she wasn't even tempted. Today, the labyrinth was dark, gloomy, the very reflection of her tortured soul. She couldn't bear to look at Erik; just the thought of him made her heart wrench. She sat in the front of the boat, gazing at the desolate scene before her.
"Do you believe you have the courage to do this? Are you prepared to be the one to take life?" Erik asked, wanting to break the uncomfortable silence that festered between them.
"Of course. I have done it before," she spat back, turning to face him, only her eye glittering against the whiteness of the mask.
"I know. However, you killed Khortdad for a good reason," he replied.
The color drained from her face. "How . . . how did you . . . ?"
"Do you take me for such an imbecile that I couldn't piece together the clues you had given me? Your punishment, your improvement to my noose and the fact that you said that you had killed some one recently. Khortdad's death was obviously your doing. But, to those who didn't know what happened between you two, it looked like an murder from someone at random, like an assassin for hire."
Nasrin looked on at him approvingly. "Well done. You pieced together more than that idiot Nadir possibly could."
"The question remains, Fire Rose. Can you take innocent human life without remorse?" His rowing was the only noise in the lake for a brief moment.
"Of course I can. It will be easy." Nasrin's look became submerged in hate.
"Oh?" he asked with a hint of humor, "will it now?"
"Yes, I'll pretend those people I murder . . . are you." She turned from him, catching a short glimpse at the look of both shock and horror on his face.
Silence once again reigned in the boat. Nasrin fiddled with her chastity beads angrily, looking down at her reflection. Erik was right; she did look a lot like him. Eyes narrowing, she struck the reflection in the water, distorting it with ripples that spread through the lake. Angrily, she turned from the water, gazing at the dirty floor of the gondola.
The boat docked and Erik leaped out, grabbing her hand and running through the mazes, hearing the overture for Il Muto begin. The audience had quieted slightly, but their clamor hadn't subsided enough for it to be silent to Erik and Nasrin's ears.
They reached the wiring for the chandelier as soon as the overture turned into the first act. Nasrin could watch the play easily through a small peephole in the ceiling; it was conveniently right next to the rope she had to sever for the chain of events to occur.
"I'll leave you here. I must switch Carlotta's mouth spray and take care of Buquet. Stay here; don't move. Do not do anything to the chandelier until I am up here with you, no matter what I say to the people." His eyes were narrowed in severity.
"Fine, go, go!" Nasrin shooed him off, anxious for him to initiate this performance into a night of terror.
Erik swished his cape and was gone, leaving behind only a small wind in his wake. He ran through the secret passageways until he was backstage, but cloaked in shadow. Reaching under his cape, he drew the mouth spray, contained in an identical vial as Carlotta's good one. He moved as if he were a shadow himself, grabbing the vial of purple spray and replacing it with his own concoction. Then, he fled the area, unaware that Buquet was watching his trick the whole time.
Nasrin watched the people in the audience, the women fanning themselves constantly to keep from passing out. She felt empowered, holding all this human life in her hand. All it took was the severing of one rope, and all would be done. But, she sat back, awaiting Erik's call.
Carlotta began to sing, her high, yowling voice trilling through the opera house. Nasrin winced as the pitch hit an unfriendly tone in her ears. How could Erik have tolerated her for this long? Nasrin would have eliminated her years ago if she had haunted this place. Thankfully, Erik interrupted her rather irritating solo.
"Did I not instruct that Box 5 was to be kept empty?" His voice boomed across the opera house, echoing through the tremulous crowd. A unanimous gasp silenced all movement. Nasrin grinned as Christine cupped her hands over her mouth in shock.
Carlotta hissed something to Christine, who looked down in shame. Erik's voice exploded through the place again. "A toad, Madame? Perhaps it is you who are the toad!"
Then, there was blessed silence. Carlotta began to fan herself quickly and instructed the conductor to begin from the beginning of the aria. She walked briskly off the stage and Nasrin could see her get at least five spritzes of the spray in her throat.
"Good," Nasrin whispered, "croak you filthy toad, croak."
The music rang out again, timid with fright. However, Carlotta was always up to proving that she could sing no matter what the circumstance.
"Serafimo, away with this pretense! You cannot speak, but kiss me in my- CROAK!" Her mouth hung open in shock, her eyes as wide as saucers.
The audience remained in a hushed silence with only Nasrin's loud sniggering echoing through the place. She could imitate Erik's laughter quite well. Nervously, the audience began to join in the laughter, tickled by the sadistic humor behind the toad.
Carlotta tried again. "Poor fool he makes me laugh. Ha ha ha ha ha! Ha ha- CROAK, CROAK, CROAK!" She couldn't get a decent noise out. By this time, the opera was roaring with laughter, the women's fans beating the air frantically. The audience was in a state of pure hilarity, Nasrin's maniacal laughter overpowering the crowd. She stopped to catch her breath.
"Behold, she is singing to bring down the chandelier! Ha ha ha ha!" Erik bellowed.
The chandelier shuddered from his powerful voice and the jewels jingled together. Nasrin almost severed the rope, but remained still, realizing that Erik was not beside her.
Andre and Firmin quickly brought the curtain in, trying to settle the crowd as Carlotta ran off the stage, crying and screaming in shame. Frantically trying to restore order, they brought out the ballet from a later part in the performance. Nasrin could see that behind the backdrop, Erik chased Buquet, his cape flailing behind him. It would only be a matter of time before that drunk sod is dead, she thought touching the pale scar on her head from their prior meeting.
"Make it terrible, Erik," Nasrin prayed, watching their master plan unfold.
Suddenly, the music began to dull in Nasrin's ears, and her blood was roaring. It's happening right now, she thought, he's killing him. She grinned, waiting for the inevitable.
Just as the music reached its climax, Nasrin saw Buquet's body plummet down to the stage, his neck bent at an awkward angle. The rope tightened and he dangled above the ballerina's heads, spinning slowly around as his nerves spazmed. His neck snapped. Nasrin fell back away from the hole in fright. It startled her; and she clutched her breast, her heart racing.
The ballerinas screamed and ran off the stage, leaving behind their props and tearing their dresses. The audience gasped and stood up, filing out of their seats and fleeing the theater.
Andre and Firmin appeared once again, attempting to quell the panic in the air.
"Ladies and gentlemen, please settle down! It was simply an accident . . . an accident!" they implored in a frenzy.
The people cautiously sat down in their seats, while above them, Nasrin shifted uneasily. Where was Erik? Reluctantly bound by her word to him, she sat back and waited while the Opera Populaire scrambled for its bearings.
She waited in the darkness, fidgeting with her fingers and looking constantly at the taut rope she was instructed to sever. The seconds turned into minutes and Nasrin gnawed on her lip. He was late. Where did he go to?
Suddenly, the curtain opened and Christine came out, dressed as the Countess, singing brightly and cheerfully with Carlotta dressed as the pageboy and scowling darkly. Once again the opera house was cheery and the play was the center of attention.
Nasrin growled in spite, fighting the urge to spit at Christine. She balled her fists and narrowed her eyes.
She felt some one grab her shoulders and spin her around. She let out a small cry of surprise as she felt the strong grip. In the dim light she could make out a white mask similar to her own. It was Erik; his face was tear-stained and his body shook with anger beyond what she had expected.
"Do it; do it now," he hissed, crimson with rage.
Nasrin leaped up, not daring to question him and severed the rope. Supports began to break and the rope unraveled quickly, humming as it whizzed through the wires. She heard the tearing of plaster and turned to see the chandelier rope breaking through the ceiling as it swung. Unfortunately, it was coming straight towards her. Before she could react, the rope split the ceiling under her and she fell with a cry as the ground crumbled from beneath her.
"Fire Rose!" Erik cried, his voice lost in the commotion from below.
Nasrin stood up on the chandelier, clinging desperately to the main rope as the chandelier swung above the mezzanine and orchestra seats. She looked up at Erik. "Get out of here! I'll make sure I reach the stage; then you will open a trap door for me! Do it now!"
"Go to the direct center of the stage, I'll be there! But try to hold off as long as you can!" He looked down at her fleetingly, his eyes wide with concern before hurrying off without a trace.
Nasrin looked down at the people a hundred feet below her. She swung for a few moments over the seats before the chandelier tipped forward and began its deadly descent. "By Allah, my God." Her voice was unheard in the melee. She looked at the stage, rejoicing at the look of pure horror on Christine's face. She was swelled with dark confidence, throwing her head back and laughing, the chandelier plummeting down to the orchestra seats.
"GO!" she roared at Christine, her finger pointed directly at her face. The ground was becoming closer to the bottom of the chandelier. "I hope I gave you enough time," she murmured to herself.
The chandelier struck the seats in an explosion of sparks. Nasrin let go of the main rope and leaped off the top. From the force of the strike, she went careening into the air, flipping over before landing somewhat perfectly on the stage. She stumbled slightly as she ran towards the center of the stage, Christine sprinting away as quickly as she could in her confining dress.
Nasrin found the spot Erik spoke of and stood on it, facing the utter destruction she caused to the theater. Some people had stopped running and turned to face the cause of this chaos. Nasrin smiled evilly, spreading her arms in triumph, slightly drunk with her power. She lifted up her foot and stomped as hard as she could on the stage. The trapdoor opened with an explosion of fire and Nasrin fell below it. It looked as though she was being welcomed back to hell.
The fire didn't touch her, but the heat caused her to close her eyes and make her unable to brace herself for her landing. However, strong arms caught her, and a familiar voice whispered in her ear, "Brava, my dear."
She let out a hoarse laugh as she felt herself shake intensely in his arms. "That was more catastrophic than I had wanted it, really."
"It could have been . . . you could have . . ." Erik couldn't finish his sentence. His grip on her tightened, finishing his thought for him.
That was when Nasrin realized that he was shaking, not her. The world began to spin in front of her eyes and she fell into blackness as Erik raced through the corridors of the opera house, the operagoers' screams of terror in his wake.
A/N: Thanks to all my reviewers! (blows kisses) Thank you!
Mademoiselle Justicia: You are right, Eriks in all their emotional stages, are just damn hot. He could blink and I'd throw myself on him and shower his face with kisses.
Erik: (O).O (inches away)
Shade: I'll get to you later Erik. XD! You got it in for Christine, huh? I would LOVE to see that! (Personally, I want to kill her myself. Perhaps we should conspire.) Oh the utter ANGST! Poor Nasrin, I feel bad putting her through half of what she's going to go through . . . (and that's a lot) But I don't think it was quite Erik's fault. Nasrin just can't run.
Nasrin: HEY!
Shade: (shrugs) I'm just saying!
Nasrin: (death glare)
Shade: (cowers) Perhaps I should end this before I am murdered. Thanks for the review! (vanity slightly growing) Here is your update!
Erik: (sighs)
Shade: OMG A SIGH! (glomps) (kisses)
Maidenhair: Yes, poor Nasrin indeed. (pats her head) I felt bad making her practically destroy the lair, but that's what she would have done, fiery little thing that she is. And yes, I will post a warning in bold before the song lyrics. (In case anyone pays attention to them, they're just before the chapter title and they pretty much sum up the chapter and what it's about.) Thanks for the review, here is your update!
xxXGoddessXofXdeadXloveXxx: It made you cry? Aww! (hugs) Don't worry, Nasrin will be all right . . . eventually . . . you know her . . . can't seem to not hold a violent grudge. LOL, here is your update! Thanks for the review!
Maska: I know, Erik definitely needs to understand what girls want. No wonder he hasn't gotten laid yet.
Erik: HEY!
Shade: Pft, your fault!
Erik: It's the deformity . . .
Shade: (raises eyebrows) It's the certain lack of dexterity you sometimes have at crucial moments!
Erik: (is silenced)
Shade: Yeah, the whole lair wrecking thing was kinda hard to write. (partially b/c I love his lair in the movie, oooo, so nice.) But, that's what Nasrin would have done, so oh well for Erik! Ah yes . . . the Point of No Return. (sniggers) I don't know how to quite put her involvement into words without giving a lot away . . . so unfortunately I guess you'll have to stick it out until (checks) chapter 22 or 23 . . . . I think, somewhere around there. Anyway, thanks for the review and here is your update!
jessiejo: Yes, Nasrin (despite being a sarcastic and annoying, yet lovable little thing) only wants Erik to love her. So simple right? Sometimes Erik, I wish to smack you. Love her! (points to Nasrin)
Erik: . . . .
Shade: UGH! MEN ARE HOPELESS! Anyway, glad you liked the last post. Thanks for the review! I hope you liked this post too! (unknowingly rhymed)
An Anti-Sheep Cheese Muffin: Wow, now that is a name I laughed at. Very amusing. Hello, and welcome to my story! (waves) I agree, Erik should ditch Christine for Nasrin, she is just so cool like that.
Nasrin: (nods ghetto style)
Shade: Nasrin . . . you are a 16 year old Persian girl . . . in the 1870s . . . never do that again.
Nasrin: (nods normally)
Shade: Well, don't know if Erik will ditch Christine . . . but we'll see. Nasrin kinda has to lose her mind first . . . oops (eyes shift) Did I just say that. Thanks for the review, here is your update! (zippers mouth)
Ethalas Tuath'an: Yes, I posted the order of events for you at the beginning. (is sure you saw it) yeah, her outburst was upsetting to me . . . I like the lair. But she didn't destroy anything critical so Erik gets over it uber fast. Did I just say 'uber'? Ew. (slaps self) Just a warning, Nasrin will do a little worse than trash his lair later . . . so she does have insane anger issues. That was but a taste of it. (nervous laughter) But anyway, thanks for the review and here is your update!
DragonheartRAB: Oh no, it's all right. If it's easier, just sign reviews anonymous from now on if you like. I'll know it's you. I'm glad you liked the chapter. XD! Everyone's saying 'poor Nasrin' and I agree, she has such simple needs. But Erik . . . he needs to wake up, I agree. As I said, stuff has to happen before he figures his feelings out, and unfortunately, Nasrin sacrifices something in order to be with him . . . then he figures it out. Thanks for the review, your daring act touches me. (bows) Here is your update! And if you need to e-mail me if you have a question (b/c of or something) My e-mail address is under my profile so feel free to e-mail me.