A/N: This one's for all my peeps over on PFN, and of course every one who's been so great in reviewing this story.I can't thank you guys enough! I promised you this before the end of the week so here it is, enjoy! Personally I like how it turned out, but as always let me know what you think, I'm always paranoid that my Erik is out of character.
She felt disgusted making her way back to the house on the lake. Rats! She had had to feed on rats! Filthy, diseased, vermin; that was her reward for denying her hunger for so long, that was what she had to at last, be satisfied with. She was sick from the very thought of it. But what choice did she have if she truly wished to remain anonymous?
Christine made her way back through the dank, sprawling passageways with ease, though the journey out was not pleasant. Being starved had made her clumsy and she had cursed to herself more than once after taking a misplaced step. But the moment that first drop of rich, warm blood touched her lips she was rejuvenated. As she picked off the scurrying rodents one by one, Christine could feel new life return to her face, her cold body warmed, and skin became flushed. She was herself again.
"I thought I asked you not to follow me?" Christine said to the seeming darkness though she had been aware for the past few minutes of an extra shadow, remaining just a few steps back from her own.
The shadow instantly materialise to her side in a single sweeping motion but decided to kept a pace back just behind her. Erik allowed her to lead the way, watching the newfound grace that seemed accentuate her every stride with interest. "It is not safe for you to be down here alone. I have taken certain… precautions, to ensure my privacy is not disturbed."
"Precautions?" Christine stopped dead in her tracks and faced him. She knew precisely what he meant by precautions. Raoul had fallen victim to one of his precautions before, as had many others who seemed to come across unfortunate accidents while working in the cellars.
"Well, I suppose I should be grateful then!" the girl began in a fierce sarcastic tone. "My life means more than some poor wretch who loses their way and disturbs your privacy. Thank you Erik, for your consideration."
Well some things never change, she thought furiously to herself. Erik was still Erik, without scruples or remorse, and where she was concerned seemed to be the only place he found any sort of decency within himself. Of course the utter hypocrisy of her own chain of thought was not at all lost to Christine. But what other choice did she have? She did not choose to live this way, to be nothing more than a merciless monster. She had to kill to survive; she took no joy in it. It was necessity and nothing more.
Christine didn't know why this reminder of Erik's less than admirable traits disturbed her so, but a sudden wave of loathing for the man before her coursed through her body and Catherine's own words to her young protégé echoed in the back of her mind.
"You know; if you're going to kill, Erik, kill indiscriminately. Anything less is condemnable." The impulsive words had erupted from her mouth before she had the chance to silence their assault. There was nothing she could do now but hold her head high, and stand behind them.
Erik's golden eyes glittered with an emotion Christine could not quite place, but the look he gave her was anything but friendly. His body seemed to stiffen and he held himself very rigidly while his hands involuntarily clenched at his sides. "I'm afraid you're going to have to explain that one, my dear," he said in a voice that so cold, she had to shiver as it licked the marrow of her bones.
Perhaps it was the new blood that flowed through her, but Christine felt a strange boldness that was normally lost to her while in Erik's presence. Here Christine was tortured day and night by the guilt of what she was, what she had to do to live, yet Erik, a man whose abilities could make him the most distinguished amongst all other men, stood without shame, and without guilt for the atrocities of his past.
"Simply, that if you can find enough restraint within your self to spare me, then you could certainly find enough when faced with another. If you could kill me, than I would know that that was all you were, a monster without control. But I know you're better than that."
Christine could tell Erik was fighting to restrain the words he fiercely wished to spit back at the girl for her ill-conceived presumption; her arrogant, self-righteous belief that she knew what his life was, what he was and was not capable of controlling. That he chose to live this way. The visible portions of his face contorted into a twisted visage as he took a deliberate step towards the girl.
Christine instantly felt the rush of an all-encompassing foreboding pass over her as he descended closer. Even with her vampire eyes, his dark cloaked figure seemed nothing but a ghostly shade, and just when she felt she was about to lose her nerve; he turned away.
"I'll keep that in mind for next time," were his only words as he started again towards his tomb like home, at a quickened pace.
It wasn't until they were once again bathed in the light of his rooms that Erik broke the silence of their walk. "You look different."
Though his words were calm, Christine could tell the man was still brooding upon her little outburst earlier. Obviously he had noticed the effects the fresh blood brought about in Christine's physical form.
"Do I?" she replied dismissively while walking past him, towards her room.
"Yes, you do," he said as he took a quick step, cutting her from her path. He eyed her contemplatively in a manner, which unnerved her completely. "What have you done to your self?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Something sparked in Erik's eyes. "You're a very poor liar, Christine. Now tell me what you have done."
Christine looked at him contemptibly with a fire of her own. She was not about to let him threaten her, even if it was in a non-verbal approach. "I have done nothing," she haughtily replied while pushing past him boldly.
Without warning, Christine felt the pain of his iron grip clamping down harshly on her small forearm. She was then yanked back to him, forcing her to look directly into those fiery eyes.
"Don't you dare touch me!" screamed Christine, ripping her arm away from the man with a force that should not have come from the petite woman standing before him. She glared at the man venomously only to be grabbed once again, more forcefully than before, and shoved roughly against the wall.
Christine cried out, but Erik paid no notice. He pinned her there, his hands caging either side of her delicate form while he held his body merely an inch from hers. Christine had closed her eyes upon impact and could now feel the seething mans hot breath brushing against her flushed skin.
"May I remind you," came his silky voice, twisting its way around her mind. "That you are staying here on my good will alone? I think I have the right to anything I want while you're here."
Christine slowly opened her eyes to find his masked face hovering just above her. How dare he, she thought wildly as he loomed over her. Christine's mouth opened but the words of disgust she so wanted to fling at him, were lost to her. But then something clicked in her mind as she stared up at his wry grin, a dare; that was all this was. She had to bite back a smile of her own as she decided not to take his bate.
"In that you do," she began slowly, choosing each word carefully. "I'm completely at your mercy Erik. You know this. Take of me what you want; I will not try to stop you. I have too much to lose."
Erik's eyes flashed as he bore down on the girl. His next words were not at all what she had expected; instead they were cold and malicious. Every syllable seemed to be laced with the most potent loathing as he brought his body so close that she felt that she would melt from its exquisite heat. "And why would I want that, Christine? Why would I still want you?"
Her eyes went wide and her legs weakened as she let the words reverberate through her soul. A million daggers stabbing her limp body at once would be easier for her to endure than to hear those words again. But why did they affect her so? What had she expected him to say? Had she truly thought that after three years he would still want her? Love her? Even after all she had done to him? She was such a fool! But perhaps the most frightening thing about it was that she had wanted him to, even though she had no desire to give in to his wish. The very thought of her and Erik, locked in a lovers embrace, filled her body with the most terrible feelings of guilt. But the thought that he had lost interest in her; that was even more staggering to her selfish mind.
Erik, unable to endure the painfully raw look of disappointment cast over Christine's gentle features, flung himself from the girl and stormed towards his room. He would not give the memory of that expression enough time for him to contemplate its true meaning.
Christine stood dumb struck, watching the door which led to Erik's chamber slam with an ominous echo. Only a moment later, the deathly silence was broken by an eruption of the most unholy of melodies penetrating her acute auditory senses. Music cascaded over her soul, stirring dormant emotions and giving new life to others. She had heard this music once before, one other time when Erik's seeming madness was twisted into a perverse melody that violated every essence of her being.
But strangely as she listened, it did not frighten her as it once did, no, she understood it. Every strand of lyrical notes sung to her of all the pain in the world, of an unbearable self loathing that threatened to tear it's own heart out with it's unending accusations, a hate so powerful it would destroy itself with it's own consuming fires. And yet beneath it all, stirring just below the surface was life, a passion for that which was forever unattainable, redemption, forgiveness, love, hope.
Christine knew this song because she had been living it every day since that horrid night when her soul was baptized in blood. She lived it now along with another creature condemned by fate, another tortured being, condemned for the thing he was forced to become, without choice.
When Erik at last turned from the savage outpour his fingers extracted from the keys of his organ, he found he was not alone. Christine was perched in a resigned manner upon the side of his coffin bed with a few crystal tears slowly trailing down her pallid cheeks. The candelabras flames illuminated the coffins lustrous surface, casting a haunted glow upon the forlorn girl as she sat their like a fallen angel, come to torment him with his pitiful fate.
Please R&R!!