Author's notes: And here we go again… only several chapters left…

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Chapter 15 – Through fire

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Tears burst through the barricade of my willpower the moment I did the horrible thing I knew I must do ever since I understood that I could do it, ever since I discovered that while his voice enchanted me, I had to end this, to regain my sanity. But now, facing his look of grief, disappointment and immense sorrow was too much for me and then and there, I wished to turn back time. Whatever he was, this was not the punishment he deserved.

And those words! The words he said to me before I betrayed him…again! The mystery of his interest in me, his purpose, was beginning to grow clearer, and even my naïve mind was able to get to the reason behind all this… yet I didn't expect this… I didn't. He proposed to me in front of the world, begged me to save him – me, the weak, foolish child that must have inflicted immense wounds upon his soul – from the darkness of the world dozens of feet under the ground.

I knew I would be unable to refuse.

But… my engagement to Raoul… and I knew they were all relying on me… I didn't see any other way out of the situation. Perhaps I could have just finished the song, I don't know, but then, the police would have perhaps shot him, and I didn't want that either.

The intensity of his sadness, broke me. The only thing more intense than the look of heartbreak in his eyes was the wave of anger that pushed it aside to take its place. I knew that fury well… I had faced it the moment I had snatched his mask for the first time. This time, however, there was something more to it. Perhaps because he knew I did it on purpose this time.

Before I knew what was going on, ignoring the yells and screams surrounding us, he whipped a dagger out of nowhere and cut one of the nearest ropes. I didn't know what that was supposed to do, but then a moment later, the whole stage seemed to shake. I didn't have time to find out what caused the sudden vibrations. A second later, he yanked me towards him, gripping me tightly by the waist and before I had time to do anything, I felt the ground disappear.

Floating, falling… how true that was.

X X X

The tears I felt streaming down my face as I watched the disturbing, passionate, fascinating scenes in front of me… when did they start to fall? I don't know. I watched the performance without problems, being quite familiar with the script by now. Still, the grand entry of Don Juan after switching places with Passarino left me more than speechless.

I instantly knew it wasn't Piangi. But before I could do anything, even think of doing anything, the voice reached me. A perfect, flawless voice, soft yet dominant, gentle yet wicked, affectionate yet leering. It was intense, it was seductive – and the man to whom it belonged seemed to fit with it completely, being the complete physical opposite of Piangi.

Speaking of the Italian tenor, his absence was more than suspicious, especially in the middle of the performance. Yet no one seemed to care. I could sense that the whole audience seemed to cease breathing the moment they heard what I did. In short, the voice was perfection… and I had a nagging suspicion I knew to whom it belonged, especially since Christine closed her eyes on-stage.

She looked at me pointedly in the middle of the song­, to warn me… he looked at me to mock me, I'd say. The song ended… and I felt my face was wet with tears. I saw something I didn't want to think of, something I didn't like when they sang along.

And then, Christine revealed his face.

The horror! I now perfectly understood why the man had hidden from the world for so long. Nothing, not even Madame Giry´s narrative couldn't prepare me for the terrible sight that had been exposed to the world, the hideous face that ruined the illusion of the Angel of Music. His face… there are not sufficient words in any of the languages I know to describe it.

I could see a strange mix of anger and grief in the shining eyes and then, quicker than the eye could see, he did something on the bridge and grabbed Christine. Suddenly, they were falling straight into the pit – the "fireplace" in the middle of the scene. And with a whoosh of Christine's skirts, they were gone.

Yet that wasn't all of it, far from it. The giant, splendorous chandelier above us seemed to sway and the horrible sound of thick chains bursting through the ceiling surrounded us. The chandelier wavered and then the mass of lights and crystals began to fall, like a cavalry that had been given the command to charge at the enemy.

I stood up immediately, but there wasn't anything I could do but watch as the deadly weight descended quickly, as if sliding down a giant slide, to the front of the stage. Panicky audience members and orchestra players rushed away, Reyer practically threw himself out of the orchestra pit.

With an almighty crash, the chandelier collided with the stage, collided with the torches illuminating the stage… and a great fire began. I climbed out of my box and slid down a random rope, straight to the ground floor. But I knew I was too late. Christine was gone, the opera was burning… literally. And on the floor, music sheets were burning. Don Juan Triumphant was burning.

I rushed to search for the only person of whom I knew for certain that she would bring me to Christine, or, at least, show me the way – Madame Giry. I spotted her leading her daughter somewhere and quickly ran to her, immediately asking the only question that mattered right now. Hows and whys were useless.

"Where did he take her?"

"Come with me, Monsieur – I will take you to him!" she immediately panted, "But remember – keep your hand at the level of your eyes!"

"I'll come with you!" her daughter said, determined.

"No, Meg, no! You must stay here. Come with me, Monsieur!"

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Gentleness be damned, I dragged Christine through the darkened corridors by force this time, ignoring her feeble attempts to wriggle her hand out of my grasp. Either way, she wouldn't be able to find the way back herself in the dark. She was on the verge of tears, terrified. At a time long past, a happier time, I would have been distraught by that. Now, I couldn't care less.

"Down once more to the dungeons of my black despair! Down we plunge to the prison of my mind! Down that path down to darkness deep as hell!" I bellowed, ignoring Christine's sobs as I dragged her along.

"Why, you ask, do I live under the ground, why I never surface? This answers your question! My face! My face, Christine! No one would ever view me as a human being, all they did was hunt me like some animal, a beast! Why, Christine? Why?" I hissed at her, almost grabbing her by the hair as she stood before me, horrified, now near the life-sized replica of her that showed my dream.

I then grabbed her by her forearm and turned her to the mannequin. "You must change, Christine. The dress should fit you."

"The w-wedding dress?" Christine stuttered, obviously so frightened it was almost a shock she was able to speak at all.

"Why, yes. I daresay it fits the occasion. Go on, go on!" I shoved her into the alcove-like room with the mannequin. "Change." And, resisting any temptation, I closed the curtains immediately, storming down the stairs to sit down.

The rage I felt was wearing off slightly, and I felt no dread at the thought of someone discovering my lair. While I heard the sounds of fabrics being rubbed against each other, I examined once more the sparkling engagement ring that had been on Christine's hand before. It was disgustingly over-decorated.

"Have you gorged yourself at last in your lust for blood?" A furious but angelic voice called to me, and I raised my gaze form the jewels. Despite my anger, my breathing stopped for a moment. Christine, dressed in the grand wedding dress, missing only her veil, stood atop of the stairs, the vision of an angel that had dropped out of the sky, burst into the world of mortals and dragged down to hell by the devil.

Slowly approaching, she swallowed nervously, but her voice regained the boldness which she herself obvious didn't feel. "Am I now to be prey to your lust for flesh?"

"That fate which condemns me to wallow in blood has also denied me the joys of the flesh." I stood up, my hand slowly moving to caress her cheek, but she moved away immediately. "This face, the infection, which poisons our love… this face, which earned a mother's fear and loathing… she was the one who gave me this mask… your pity comes too late!" I growled as her face grew softer for a moment and I immediately placed the wedding veil on her head roughly. "Turn around and face your fate!" Grabbing her by the shoulders again, I turned her to me. "An eternity of this before your eyes!" I roared, pointing at my face.

Then, I immediately slipped the ring on her finger. Christine spared me one look of disbelief before removing the veil and laying it on a nearby surface. "Your face doesn't frighten me anymore." Those words shocked me so much I couldn't speak for a moment. It had been my one hope, my one dream that perhaps one day, she wouldn't fear my face anymore. And now… "It's your soul. That's where the true distortion lies. I fear your soul."

For a moment, I lowered my gaze, like a child caught lying. Yes, my soul wasn't completely without its scars. The world had shunned me, no one treated me like they would treat a human being, everyone feared me… that leaves scars. Ever since I discovered that the mirror wasn't magical, that what I saw there was reality, I knew I would be scarred inwardly throughout my life.

This, however, left a deep gash. Not of pain, no… of much more. She knew me better than she expected, than I had expected… she didn't hate me because I was ugly, but because I was cruel. But I couldn't help it. I am obsessed with her – obsessed from the moment I found an angel wandering through the withering world.

But something alerted me to the presence of another… and, turning away at last, I smiled a twisted smile. "Wait! I think, my dear, we have a guest!"

X X X

"This is as far as I dare go." Madame Giry said suddenly when we reached the first third of the spiral staircase. It seemed to go on forever, down into the darkness. The ancient tapestries on the walls seemed to blow in an unnatural wind, and the whole place had a strange aura to it.

I nodded to the ballet mistress and proceeded down the stairs quickly, holding my hand up as she had instructed me to do. Moments after I rid myself of the jacket that might be hindering in combat, I felt the floor give away underneath me. I fell… and I plunged into ice-cold water dozens of feet below.

The trap was sprung immediately – metal bars rushed down to crush me, to pin me to the ground while I would suffocate and drown. Yet the rusted wheel I found there showed me the way out of the mess and with an effort, soaked, I managed to get through one of the small passageways.

I don't know how long I have wondered in the darkness. I searched for any sign of Christine or her captor, but all I found was a vast lake that I knew was – or used to be - part of the Seine. Then, in the distance, I saw the dots of light that could have been motionless fireflies, but I recognized them as candles. I galloped through the water until I reached a portcullis – metal bars that parted me from what seemed to be a cave.

A well furnished cave.

I saw a magnificent organ, statues that had amazing detail, candelabras of the highest expense and other furniture worthy of royalty. Then there were music sheets, various instruments – an orchestra could have been practicing here with ease, and there would still be spare instruments. A gondola-like boat with a light attached to it was docked in a small bank near the shore… feet from it stood Christine, clad in a white dress… a wedding dress. And then, less than two feet from her was him, still half in costume.

"Sir!" he called to me, his voice light, despite the strange situation.

"Raoul!" Christine shrieked.

"This is indeed an unparalleled delight!" he added, as if uninterrupted, and pulled Christine towards him with ease, to mock me. "I had rather hoped that you would come! And now, my wish comes true! You have truly made my night!"

"Free her!" I called. I didn't care what he did to me, as long as he released Christine. "Do what you like, only free her! Have you no pity?"

Somehow, I could hear every word he said to Christine. "Your lover makes a passionate plea." He said with mock concern and awe.

"Please, Raoul – it's useless." Christine called to me, looking defeated, instead of answering him.

"I love her!" I called, desperate to find some means of persuading him. After all, he had the upper hand down here, in his own private realm. "Does that mean nothing! I love her!" Playing the last card I could see, I added: "Show some compassion!" Surely someone who had been shunned by the world would know the meaning of that word?

I was wrong. It enraged it further and, ignoring Christine for a moment, knowing she had nowhere to flee, he snarled: "The world showed no compassion to me!" and it was true, no deception, no lies… I knew. I understood, at that moment, why he was obsessed with Christine so. I understood why she wore the wedding dress. Yet…

"Christine! Christine! Let me see her!" I called.

With a light shrug, he turned to a lever nearby that no one else had noticed. "Be my guest, sir."

The portcullis rose and I entered – I was shivering, but determined, and I looked at Christine to see if she was alright. She seemed terrified, but unhurt. The portcullis dropped again behind me, like the door of a prison closing, and our torturer approached me with the same light and yet mocking voice.

"Monsieur, my dear Monsieur! I bid you welcome in my humble home! You think she is harmed? No! You thought I would harm an angel? No, no, Monsieur! She has no reason to pay… I intend to punish you!"

And, before I could even do anything, before I could remember the wise words of Madame Giry, a thin lasso, like a snake that obeyed its master's command, wrapped itself around my throat tightly, choking me. I saw Christine gasp loudly, but she was helpless. Tears of pain rushed to my eyes and all seemed to go black for a second before I saw that I was being tied to the portcullis tightly.

"Order your fine horses now!" His voice floated mockingly all around me, taunting the moments when Christine and I promised love to each other. "Raise up your hand to the level of your eyes!" The words of Madame Giry, the ones that circulated the opera daily, were also mocked shamelessly. "Nothing can save you now! Except… perhaps Christine!" I could see him turn back to my pale fiancée, who was still standing on the banks of the lake.

I didn't know how Christine could save me now. She was brave, yes, but she didn't have the strength to fight him… not alone. She had weapons I didn't that she could use against him, but in this situation, I thought even that was useless. But then, looking at her, in that dress, an idea came to me… a terrifying idea…that became true a second later.

"Start a new life with me! Buy his freedom with your love! Refuse me and you send your lover to his death! This is the choice. This is the point of no return!"