IV
Erik scowled as he watched them prepare for the performance. These new managers did not suit him, so far they had cast aside all of his requests. But he could fix this one easily enough. Amongst all the hustle and bustle of the dancers and performers no one noticed a shadow.
He waited for the overture to begin and then took Carlotta's throat spray, replacing it with his own. A small smirk formed on his lips and he quickly left the scene, unaware that someone had been watching him.
Now all he needed was a distraction, something to unnerve the performers, something that would cause Carlotta to use her throat spray. He knew exactly what that would be. He could kill two birds with one stone, so to say. The managers would finally have to admit to his presence and Carlotta would be off the stage, hopefully for a very long time.
He climbed up to the high, domes ceiling of the auditorium. It was the perfect place to watch. The chandelier hid him if anyone looked up and it allowed his voice to echo throughout the entire room.
"…If he knew the truth, he'd never ever go!"
"Did I not instruct that Box Five was to be kept empty?" Erik asked, voice booming throughout the theatre, causing the crowd to gasp and look around and the performance to stop in its tracks.
Christine's eyes widened and she looked around nervously. The crowd was murmuring and she heard Meg whisper that it was the Phantom of the Opera. She knew that voice. He was here, somewhere, hiding.
"Its him," she murmured.
"Your part is silent, little toad!" Carlotta snapped.
Everything seemed to be a daze to Christine. She heard Carlotta squawking at her maid and the audience murmuring. Then the music started again, Carlotta was singing and then…she croaked. It happened again and then she heard her give a cry and leave the stage.
Within second the managers were on the stage and the curtains were closed behind them. Christine listened as they talked, not really knowing what was going on until she felt one of them grab her arm and announced that she would be playing the countess.
"Go, go, hurry up, hurry up," Firmin urged, pushing her back behind the curtain.
Christine found Antoinette, who started to help her into Carlotta's costume. Christine remained dazed, still unsure of exactly what was unfolding. In front of her she saw a single red rose with a black ribbon tied around the stem. She picked it up carefully and twirled it around in her fingers, that's when she heard the scream.
Erik watched as the life slowly drained from the man's terrified eyes, and a cruel smile formed on his lips. He had never liked the man, he had always been poking his nose where it had not belonged, he had been a drunk and a lecher, trying to capture the dancers backstage late at night. Buquet should have know better than to try and capture him in his own domain, it was his own fault.
He felt no remorse as he choked the life from him and then pushed his body off of the flies, allowing it the dangle centre stage for a moment. The screams of the dancers and the audience came quickly, and he dropped the body, causing it to land on the stage with a sickening thud.
He then turned away and swiftly made his way up to the roof. Out into the cold night air, the adrenaline draining away and, for once, leaving him with a sickening feeling.
Christine nearly collided with Raoul as she ran away from the stage. He caught her and tried to calm her down, but it was no use.
"Raoul, we're not safe here!" she exclaimed, grabbing his arm and pulling him towards the winding staircase that lead up through the levels of the theatre and onto the roof.
"Christine," Raoul gasped, "why have you brought me here?"
"We can't go back there," she replied urgently.
"We must return," he reasoned, "they'll be-"
"He'll kill you! His eyes will find us there!"
"Christine don't say that…"
"Those eyes that burn!"
"Don't even think it…"
"And if he has to kill a thousand men-"
Forget this waking nightmare…"
"The Phantom of the Opera will kill and kill again!" she exclaimed, still dragging him up and up, through the stories and to the roof. Then she seemed to start speaking more to herself than him, "My god who is this man, who hunts to kill…? I can't escape from him…I never will!"
"This Phantom is a fable, believe me, there is no Phantom of the Opera…" he reasoned, then started to try to reason the entire thing out loud, "My god, who is this man, the mask of death…? Whose is this voice you hear with every breath…?
"And in his labyrinth, where night is blind, the Phantom of the Opera is here: inside my mind," Christine finished, shoving open the door to the roof and dragging Raoul into the frigid night air.
"There is no Phantom of the Opera.." Raoul said gently, still trying to reassure his terrified friend.
"Raoul, I've been there-to his world of unending night…to a world where the daylight dissolves into darkness…darkness…Raoul, I've seen him! Can I ever forget that sight? Can I ever escape from that face? So distorted deformed, it was hardly a face in the darkness…darkness…" she paused briefly and then a small smile seemed to form on her lips, "but his voice filled my spirit with a strange, sweet sound…In that night there was music in my mind…And through music my soul began to soar! And I heard as I've never heard before…"
"What you heard was a dream and nothing more," Raoul said gently.
"Yet in his eyes all the sadness of the world, those pleading eyes that both threaten and adore…" she said, not hearing Raoul's reasoning and instead recalling the night before.
"Christine," Raoul sighed a bit irritably, "Christine, you're talking in riddles. There is no Phantom or Opera Ghost, it is all just a ploy."
"No," Christine said, shaking her head, "Raoul, why won't you believe me?"
Raoul wrapped his arms around her shivering form and sighed, "He is not real, Christine."
Christine stepped away from him, "You saw what he did, you heard him…why won't you believe me?"
"I heard a man's voice," Raoul said, "but that does not make him a ghost. Just a man hidden up above the theatre…and that man. It was an accident, didn't you hear the managers?"
"It wasn't," Christine said shakily, "who can cut themselves down after…"
Raoul embraced her again, "Christine, I promise that no one ill hurt you, I won't let them. Forget all of these wide-eyes fears. I'm here: nothing can arm you. Please, Christine, I'm here, with you, beside you…I promise that I will never let anything or anyone hurt you."
"You can't promise that," Christine sighed.
"Yes I can," Raoul assure her.
"Then say you love me," she replied, "say you need me with you, tell me that all you say is true, Raoul."
"I love you," he replied with no hesitation.
"All I want is freedom," Christine sighed, "I'm tired of this world where its always night….but I'm afraid, Raoul. I don't know if I can leave, I don't think that I can. Its like I'm trapped, like something won't let me go."
Raoul sighed and took the rose from Christine's hand, dropping it on the ground before cupping her cheek, "I'll help you. I'll take you away from all this. We can escape, together"
Christine smiled weakly at him, "I know you will…say you love."
"You know I do," Raoul replied gently, drawing her face towards him and placing a kiss on her lips.
Erik allowed his head to rest against the cold stone statue. He sickened himself. He had terrified her and pushed her away. Now she was turning to him, to that boy for safety and reassurance. Some old childhood sweetheart. That had been his job, he had been her only friend, the only one she really felt safe with for so long.
He wondered when that had changed. No, he knew. It had changed when he had changed. When he had become possessive, when he had set down all of those insane rules. That was supposed to be his kiss, hic Christine. Now she was gone, and he had only himself to blame.
"I must go-they'll wonder where I am," she gasped, "Come with me, Raoul!"
"Christine, I love you!"
"Order your fine horses! Be with them at the door!"
"And soon you'll be beside me!"
"You'll guard me and you'll guide me…" Christine finished, leading him back through the door and to the staircase.
Erik stepped out from behind the statue once he was sure they were gone. He looked around the bleak, snow covered roof. Their footsteps were still there and on the ground was a single red rose, tied in a black ribbon.
He bent down and plucked it from the snow, staring at it blankly. His rose, his sign of affection, that he was pleased. Tears filled his eyes and he could feel them choking his throat.
"I gave you everything," he whispered, "everything I hold dear, and now…you've betrayed me. Of course he'd love you…of course you'd love him, he's…"
He turned as he heard them, talking happily as they went back down the stairs. He ground his teeth together and his fist closed of the delicate blossom in his hand, crushing the petals and grinding them as rage built inside him. They would rue this day and in a sudden fit of rage he sprinted over to the large statue and climbed onto it.
"You will curse the day you did not do all that the Phantom asked of you!" he cried, allowing the anger to consume him and fuel him forward. This was not going to be the end.
By the time Christine returned almost everyone had left. There were gendarmes removing the body of Joseph Buquet from the stage and asking the dancers and other stagehands questions. Meg immediately rushed over to her and embraced her tightly.
"Oh, Christine! I was so worried, where were you?" she asked, tears in her eyes.
"I was on the roof," she replied.
"Maman, and I have been looking for you. She said that she saw you leaving and we couldn't find you," Meg continued, "oh, but you're alright. You must have been terrified."
"Yes," Christine replied a bit unsurely, "I guess so."
"Christine," Raoul said, touching her arm, "get dressed, I'll order my carriage."
"Oh, right," she said, suddenly unsure of what to do.
"What?" Meg asked, "his carriage?"
"We're…going out to supper," she said weakly.
"You're a terribly liar, Christine," Meg scolded, "what are you really doing?"
"I'm leaving with Raoul," she said quietly, "just for a while. I'll still come here to practise, I'll see you almost every day."
"No you won't," Meg said sadly, "the next performance has been cancelled because of all this. There won't be any practises until after the new year. A lot of the dancers who can go home are. For an early Christmas break…at least that's what they're telling their families."
"I'll visit," Christine said, "I promise, Meg. We'll still be in the city."
"Christine," Antoinette said, placing a hand on her chest and sighing with relief, "I am glad that Meg has found you."
"Christine's leaving the theatre tonight," Meg said informed her mother.
"Pardon?" Antoinette asked, "Christine, is that true?"
"I'm going to stay with Raoul for a while," she said, "I just…I need to get away from all this. Please, Madame, say you understand, say you'll let me go."
"Of course child," Antoinette sighed, "it may be best this way…go get dressed them. Meg, you as well. You can't stay in that costume all night."
"Yes," they both replied, heading off to the changing room.
Antoinette leaned heavily against the wall and sighed. She could feel the beginnings of a headache forming and felt teas stinging the corners of her eyes. Everything was going so horribly wrong now. She had been afraid of this for so long, maybe not exactly of this., but of something similar.
"Oh, Erik," she sighed heavily, "what have you done?"