Disclaimer: All originating characters and storylines belong to their respectful owner. This is mostly a continuation of ALW's work, but I do throw GL a couple of good nods. All new characters and sub-plots are my original work and are not to be used/reproduced without my expressed permission. Enjoy the story and shoot some feedback my way if you can! Thanks for reading.
Author's Note: Sorry that it took so long getting this one out, if any of you are still reading this. My DS has been sick with a touch of the flu and is quite a grump. Chapters will not be coming out as fast as they have been in the past, and I appeciate all your patience. Having fun brainstorming and I usually end up changing the same chapter about three or so times before I am content with it. Plus, my "editor" is now MIA (vacation/life) so there are probably a lot of typographical errors in the last few chapters. Thank you all so much for reading. I appreciate all of your wonderful comments and am thrilled that you are enjoying it. Your support means the world to me. - t
Phanatic: Your comments are the best. They are so "animated."
phantomadark: Enjoy the ride! Sorry it took me so long to update . . . :-)
Chapter Eleven
Anger, by far, was his preferred method of displaying his emotions. Erik had never felt pain like this before. Wrath had always been his crutch. It was easy for him to blame others for his misfortune in life. He found solace in that familiarity. Even if the fire of rage and bitterness burned all around him, he was peaceful inside. Erik was always able to deflect the emptiness he suffered from with his sharp tongue and unabashed fury and wit. After accepting Christine's love and desire, he had the same loneliness that he felt every day of his life, but could not feel anything but sorrow for what he lost. There was a dull beat in his chest that he did not recognize. In the moment he lamented for Christine, he thought, with great certainty, that he would die from her absence.
Erik could feel the cold air through his nostrils as he breathed in and out. Now, more than ever, Erik despised this refuge. Every corner and hallway had a story of happier times. He needed to escape. He bellowed out a deafening, defeated scream that echoed in through the corridor. He sprawled himself on the ground. While the main floors were host to many stories of many people, this underground dwelling centered on him. The walls oozed his story out of its pores. He had spent years fashioning himself to be the deity of the theater. He had spent many tedious years grooming a poor, unsuspecting child to become the love of his life. He had preyed upon her naivety and twisted it to his advantage. But it wasn't just Christine. He had always taken special pride in tailoring the inhabitants of this opera house to glorify his stature and serve his purposes. Looking down the damp, murky hallway, he had never felt more conquered. The story had changed.
The cool floor was almost comforting as he laid his face upon it. And there he finally felt it, the small speck of anger growing inside of him. "How dare she," he thought to himself. "Haven't I suffered enough?" Just as quickly as it started to fester, Erik stopped it. "But, you fool, you didn't stop her," he lamented. "And then you let her go." He was thankful for the stillness in the air. Though the hard stone floor cut into his bones, he dared not move. "How lucky it would be if my heart stopped beating at this very moment," Erik whispered to himself. "Then this pain will stop and I will finally be free of her." While he stared at the walls, he tried to empty his thoughts. He tried to focus on anything but her face and the way her body felt against his skin. Then he heard the water softly running down the corridor.
With much exertion, he rose back up to his knees. Erik sat, contemplating his own fate before he remembering the person he came back for. Meg was still chained to the floor. Inside, he feared that she was beyond redemption, that her madness could not be cured. It would be easier for the both of them to go this way. There would be less pain. Still, a tiny voice within cried out in compassion. Madam Giry would never forgive him if he let Meg go this way. Madame Giry had saved his life. He had always been obliged to do her bidding, within reason, of course. All she had to do was ask of him. She never did. Fear, perhaps, drove her away, like it did to so many others. Madame Giry had always been the faithful servant he had desperately searched for. She was his only true friend. His debt would be repaid if he saved Meg's. He would finally have his own life to live.
His steps were laborious. It took great difficulty for him to reach the open cavern. Meg was still lying peacefully on the bed. Erik breathed out a great sigh. Her face was swollen beyond recognition. There was blood covering her skin and clothing. He did not know of any doctor that would believe how he came to have this poor, battered girl that couldn't have suffered from Erik's own hands. And, now, he felt that his only recourse was to take Meg back to her mother. While he knew that Madame Giry had settled in a small town, he did not know where. Only Meg would be able to tell him and he did not know when, or even if, that would happen.
Meg was still unconscious. She looked frail and withered against the blood-red fabric. Saddened, it was looking at Meg in this state that he realized how he looked to Christine so many years ago. Meg had grown into a vision of beauty and grace, much like her mother. Her delicate features were perfectly framed with her gorgeous long, golden blonde tresses. If she had been anyone else's daughter, he might have chosen her instead. She was, by far the better pupil. He chose Christine, instead, out of respect for Madame Giry. She would never have allowed him to have Meg, he knew. And now she laid on the bed, defeated. Like him, she had lost her innocence chasing after something that could never be. Her madness disfigured her. He glanced across the room into a broken mirror and let out a disgusted sigh when he saw his reflection. It didn't matter how Christine, or anyone else, saw him. He would always be a monster in his eyes.
Looking back down to Meg, he thought it best to clean her up. Erik retrieved a pan of water and began to wipe Meg's face. He quietly labored at this small duty for a few minutes when Meg's eyes started to flutter open. A small, quiet sigh let out from her mouth and then she was still again. When he didn't see her breathing, Erik leaned in to check her breath. She gasped loudly, and Erik jumped back, startled. Meg started moving again. Erik took a few steps back as Meg sprang to life once again. She opened her eyes, calm. Slowly the realization of the past hours events came back to her. She rapidly checked to make sure that she was all right. She grunted in pain as she tried to move her legs and arms. Her eyes darted around the room and stopped to stare at Erik. They stared at each other in silence before Meg quickly got to her feet and ran to escape. She did not realize that her ankle had been chained. Her face squarely hit the floor.
Quickly, Erik set the basin of water on a stand next to him and ran to Meg's side to help her. When he bent down to extend his arm, she flipped around and kicked him in the mouth. When he fell back, Meg lunged at him, grabbing at his throat. Though she tried to choke him, Erik promptly overpowered her and forcefully withdrew her hands from his neck. She kicked him in the groin with her unbound foot. He stepped back, writhing in pain. She made no further attempt to attack him as he caught his breath. After collecting his thoughts, Erik screamed, "Are you crazy!" Still in agony, he forcefully said, "I am here to help you!"
Meg burst into tears. She screamed back at him, "You let her go, didn't you!" Meg screamed through her tears. She took his silence as an admission. "How could you? After – everything."
"Meg," Erik began, "Christine is no longer your concern. You are fortunate to have your life. If I hadn't of stopped her, I'd be burying your corpse right now." He waited for the realization to set in, but Meg only stared blankly in front of her. "What I chose to do has nothing to do with you. You took advantage of a situation, nothing more." Staring at her with his piercing eyes, he continued, "Meg, I had to let her go, but I came back here to help you. And this is how you thank me. I could have easily left you here to die." More to himself, he said, "I knew I should have chained your other foot as well." He took the butt of his hand to wipe off the blood that was seeping from his lip. Looking at it, he said, "Perhaps it was wrong of me to try to help. I should have left you here to die."
"No, Erik," Meg lamented, "I didn't mean to hurt you." The swelling of her cheek became more pronounced. "I must look a mess right now. My whole body aches." She felt around the bump on her cheek. "She thumped me rather hard, wouldn't you say?" A nervous laugh drained from her mouth. "I didn't think she had it in her. She was always so passive." Her eyes met with Erik's. She mockingly said, "She must really have loved you." Erik turned his back and started to leave. Meg admonished herself, "No! Please, don't go! Don't leave me here! I'm sorry. My mouth has a way of getting me into trouble lately."
Erik stopped. "Meg," he whispered, "You don't belong here." He faced her. "I told your mother that you would go on to do great things. I have great respect for your mother, I would never lie to her. You have the potential to be the best." Erik added almost silently, "Your father would be so proud of you." He looked back at Meg. "You are better than THIS. Don't you see? The nightmare never ends in this horrid place. It traps you here. Feeds on your misery. The sooner you get out of here, the sooner you will get better. I promise. You need to get out of here. The filth of this – this tomb has poisoned your mind."
Meg sat on the bed. Sighing, she said, "I want to be here with you. I came back for my own sanity," to which Erik slightly scoffed. Meg continued, "But then I realized that I wanted to come back so that I could be with you. I wanted to show you that we are not all like Christine. For the past two years all I wanted was to love you. Don't you see? This is the only place where I can do that. We are both creatures of the night. They don't understand us out there." Her big, blue eyes shimmered. "Why can't we just stay here? I'll prove to you that I am faithful. Please, show me that the world isn't this cold and empty place. I will make you happy, Erik, I swear!" Meg pleaded with him. "Let me love you. I would do anything for your love in return!"
Her pleading eyes left him hollowed. An empty heave was the only thing that Erik could muster. The silence between them was fierce. Finally Erik answered, "I understand what you want me to do. A small of me wants to be able to give that to you. You are - so much like your mother. But please understand that is something I could not to give you, Meg. My heart will always be carefully guarded away."
"You mean, Christine will always have your heart," Meg sneered at him. "She will be the only woman worthy of your affection, won't she? Fine then," she snapped, "Waste it on her. That undeserving cow! And you are a fool to give it to her!"
He stared coldly at her. It took all of his effort not to choke the life out of her. Erik shot back, "So we're done here, then. I will leave you to your misery. I will be sure to tell your mother where she can find your body, you ungrateful ingrate." He gathered the supply of food and placed it in a knapsack. "I thought I might be able to reason with you, but I see that you are beyond that." He found a cloak and wrapped it around himself. "Even if it takes me ten years, I promise to find your mother so that she may see the fruits of her labor - a deranged daughter lying dead in the opera house in which she grew up."
"Don't you dare threaten me! I am not a child! You are just trying to make me believe that you are leaving. I won't tell you where she is!" Meg sat defiantly. "And I know you won't leave me here. If something were ever to happen to me, and my mother knew you could have prevented it, well, you would be in a sorry state. Don't think that I haven't heard of your history with her. You owe her your life!"
"But not yours. If you were genuinely concerned for your mother, you would go back to her and not use her as a means to manipulate people to get what you want out of life. I have absolutely no obligation to you. And I think it's best to remember who you are talking to," Erik coarsely whispered. "You have no idea of what I am capable of. And how will your mother ever know? If she knew where you were, she would have come for you long ago. You are in a desperate state, cherie. And I am a depraved monster. Do not second-guess my seemingly good nature. I have no further motivation to keep this facade any longer."
Meg stood stoically, tearing into Erik with her scathing eyes. Erik laughed, "I see that pride has gotten the best of you, too. Do not worry, cherie. I will find her . . . eventually. I hope that you get at least one more opportunity to see her." He turned back to the exit of the lair, "Everyone deserves to say goodbye to the ones they love."
He disappeared into the hallway. Erik heard Meg frantically scream behind him, "NO! Come back! Please! You will never reach Troyes in time!" He abruptly stopped. Pivoting, he turned around. He silently walked back to the lair. Meg was still screaming, "There is no food, I will die here! Plea . . ." Her voice trailed off as she saw him coming back.
Erik promptly went into the curtained area of his former dressing room. He pulled a false back out of an armoire. Meg heard numerous bottles tinkling as Erik rifled through them. He came out holding a small brown bottle in his right hand. Looking down at it with uncertainty, he gazed back to Meg. With a look of determination, he tore off a small cloth from the tattered curtain.
She knew what was happening. Meg began to scream. Erik held his finger to his mouth. "It will be much quicker and less painful if you don't resist. I can't have you escape." He poured some of the colorless liquid onto the cloth. The fumes were strong and Erik pulled his face away as far as possible. "To tell the truth, mademoiselle, I have never had to use this before. So I hope that I haven't used too much." Meg tried to run away, but couldn't shake her leg free. She went to kick Erik as he closed in on her, but he was ready and thwarted her attempt. "I asked you nicely my dear," he grunted as he yanked on her hair and pulled her close to him. He vigorously subdued her and placed the soaked cloth over her nose and mouth. It was only a matter of time before her body started going limp.
As Meg dozed off, she faintly heard Erik say, "How simple it would have been if she said Troyes to begin with . . ."