At this point, I should prolly mention that the Erik of my story is just as jaded and angry and socially crippledas the Erik we are introduced to in Leroux's novel...
It's important to mention that before this chapter.
And also, a special thanks to all of you for reviewing. I know this story is weird and sort of different from what you're used to from me, but I appreciate your "sticking with me."
Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. I promise to continue to write as long as you continue to bring such happiness to me!
Enough of that...on with the show!
-Nico
Leaves scattered the damp cobblestones that lined a path once used for carriages that dropped the well-to-do off at the Paris Opera House.
Gerard shivered as a cold breeze lifted and lowered his hair.
It was the middle of the night, and there was no life to be seen.
No life, that is, besides the increasingly deviant music that grew louder the nearer Gerard drew to the Opera House.
Rae's voice resonated in his head, reminding him that just because the Opera House was closed to the public did not mean there wasn't a way inside.
After all, The Phantom of the Opera had most certainly brought Rae back here.
Gerard was sure of it.
He quickly climbed the steps leading to the gilded doors of the Opera House, giving a tug on the brass door knob, just in case.
Of course, it was locked.
He backed up, surveying the situation before him.
Just above the door was a small window.
A window just large enough to fit a human body through.
Without thinking, Gerard quickly climbed the stone siding of the Opera House, silently thanking his years of jumping on and off of amps while onstage for preparing him for this moment.
He teetered on a precarious ledge, close enough now to the window to press against it lightly.
It moved.
Gerard applied more pressure and was rewarded with the window suddenly swinging open.
He scrambled to the entrance, swinging one leg inside, followed by the other. Once he was sitting on the window ledge he dropped, landing in the foyer of the Paris Opera house.
For a moment, he simply stood, trying to ignore the golden stares of the hundreds of nearly ancient statues that adorned the lavish theater.
The music continued, considerably louder now. Every so often, the tune would halt and there would be silence.
It was the moments of silence that were worst…it was then that Gerard's mind imagined the worst for Rae.
After all, he had once possessed the memories of the Phantom of the Opera…and although those memories were now becoming dark, he could still remember the surges of passion and anguish he felt over Miss Christine Daae.
His legs moved of their own accord, bringing him through the winding passageways of the Opera House's backstage area and to the entrance of the catacombs.
He stood at the piece of wall he knew hid a stairwell. Dewey had discovered it the night Gerard had realized he was the phantom.
Gerard took a deep breath, pushing aside the memories of being drunk and drugged that night. He pressed gently against the wall, activating the ancient rigging system.
A rush of cold air immediately smacked Gerard in the face.
For this journey, he was going to need a cigarette.
Rae shifted uncomfortably in the plush velvet chair Erik had tied her to.
For the last hour or two he had barely spoke, instead preferring to sit at the large black piano that sat on a platform of sorts.
The surroundings were bleak; Rae took in the site of the murky waters before her, the toppled, dusty furniture, the manuscripts that littered the damp floor.
But most of all she watched the man whose back was to her as he plunked ferociously at the keys of the old piano.
Every once in a while he would pause, but never looked back at her.
Finally, in a moment of silence, Rae spoke.
"If this is how you treated her, I'm not surprised she left you," she said, forcing her voice to sound cold and firm, even though she was petrified.
Erik finally turned to look at her, his eyes burning with anger.
He rose, walking gracefully over to her.
"Do not speak of what you do not know," he warned lowly.
Rae suddenly felt indignant…angry with this man she knew only through blurry memories and passionate stolen moments that Christine managed to salvage during her relationship with the recluse.
"Oh I know," she said, bravery fueling her voice. "I know how you murdered Joseph Buquet and Piangi…I know how you kidnapped her and brought her down here to become your bride…I know how you nearly killed her fiancé and wept as she left with him!"
Her voice had taken on a fevered pitch, the frenzy she felt too powerful to mask in tone.
"Silence!" Roared Erik, kicking an already ousted stool.
"Untie me," Rae countered, just as violently.
For several moments, Erik stood before her. Both of their chests heaved with the efforts of their strong words.
And then, he knelt down, slowly undoing the thick ropes from around her ankles and wrists.
Once she was free, Erik turned from her again, running his fingers through his hair.
Rae rubbed the feeling of the rope from her skin and stood slowly.
"What are you hoping to accomplish?" She asked him quietly.
Erik turned to face her. "You belong with me," he told her matter-of-factly.
"No," she shook her head. "I do not."
"But that's where you're wrong, Christine," Erik replied, moving towards her once more. "You've been brought back to me…to right the wrongs of both our pasts."
Rae inhaled sharply as the Phantom of the Opera invaded her senses. The part of her that was Christine felt an overwhelming desire to envelop herself in his arms, to succumb to the safety that only her angel of music could provide.
But the part of her that was Rae screamed for retreat…to get as far away from this ghost of a man who was obviously still fighting a war with his inner demons…a battle that he had already fought and lost.
"I'm not completely Christine," she said, hoping to bring some realism to this very surrealistic situation.
"You will learn to be," Erik replied.
She watched in horrific excitement as his gloved hand roamed to her face, to caress the satin of her cheek.
"Don't touch her."
The voice was angry…deep…resonating.
Rae opened eyes that had slid shut at Erik's touch.
She looked over to the other side of the lowered gate.
There stood Gerard in ankle-deep water, his hands grasping the iron bars.
Erik looked over to Rae, his mouth curled into a half smile.
"It's the great cosmic mystery," he announced loudly enough for Gerard to hear him. "How even the darkest moments of history repeat themselves," he finished.
Fear clutched at Rae's heart.
Especially when she saw Erik lift the coiled rope from under the murky water.