A/N: As always, thanks to my beta, Le Chat Noir, especially for the fight scenes!
Erik: the Vampire Hunter
Episode 17: Uninvited
By: Elektra
Christine wasn't sure where she was, or why she was there. Her thoughts were disjointed, her eyes unable to focus.
Something stood before her.
No.
Someone
He was dark. Cold. Dangerous…
But he was not evil.
Christine was frozen.
She wanted to run, but she wasn't sure which way to go: Towards the dark figure, or away from him?
A hand reached out to her from the darkness. It was stained red.
Blood.
There was blood on his hands.
Christine looked up and saw two golden eyes staring down at her from a face that was made only of shadows.
Do you hate me now, Christine? Those eyes seemed to ask.
Hate. Such an ugly word.
Christine backed away from the figure before her. She was scared. Confused.
She knew he would not harm her… and yet… she was afraid.
So very afraid.
Her emotions warred with her logic.
You care for him… her heart taunted.
But he's dangerous… her mind warned.
He's taken lives… they both agreed.
Could you care for a murderer? Her mind asked.
Could you care for Erik? Her heart questioned.
No.
Yes.
But what if they were one and the same?
I can't care for a murderer. But… I can care for Erik…
But Erik… was a murderer.
The Guild's Executioner…
Her angel of music…
How could you care for him? Her mind demanded. He has killed so many!
How could you NOT? Her heart cried. He has only cherished you!
Her emotions and her logic argued.
Killer.
Friend.
Murderer.
Man.
Executioner!
ERIK!
"STOP!" Christine cried out as she shot up in bed, grasping her head in her hands.
"Chrissy?" Meg mumbled as she switched on the lamp beside her, "Are you ok?"
"Meg…" Christine started. "What if you cared for someone but found out something about them that made you uncomfortable?" she asked.
"That's a hell of a question to ask at 3:30 in the morning!" Meg replied.
"Please, Meg. What would you do?"
Meg thought a moment. "I don't know, Chrissy. I guess it depends how bad it was. Maybe… if I really cared about them… like, if it was RJ or something… I would talk to him about it. I would tell him my concerns. Tell him I needed time to deal with it."
Christine nodded. That made sense.
But how could she approach Erik? Especially about this?
Maybe… maybe it would be better to stay away.
Just for a little while…
Dean Giry's Office – 3 weeks later
Giry read the fax in her hand. "Two quarry spotted in the Warehouse district," she informed the masked man beside her. "Apparently, they are squatting in one of the abandoned buildings." Erik nodded silently. Giry studied him a moment. Something was wrong. Very wrong. "Erik? You haven't seemed your usual self lately."
"And what is my usual self?" he inquired quietly. "For I certainly don't know."
"How long has it been?" Giry asked. He knew what she was referring to.
"She had not seen nor spoken to me in three weeks, four days, eight hours and…" he checked his watch, "twenty-nine minutes. No, wait… thirty minutes now."
Giry let out a sigh. "She needs time."
"Time…?" Erik repeated. "Please do not patronize me, Antoinette! All the time in the world isn't going to bring her back to me." He stopped. "But then, she was never WITH me, was she?" He leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. "I thought all would be well when she came back to see me after I sent her running…" He shook his head. "But I suppose she woke up the next morning and realized she should have stayed away."
Giry pursed her lips. She prayed there would not be another 'special assignment' any time soon. She was quite sure it would cause Erik to plunge into his darkness and never climb out…
… especially after being rejected by the only woman who had ever given him a reason to.
Ravelle College – Practice room (evening)
Christine studied herself in the mirror of the practice room. She fixed up the messy bun at the back of her head and quickly moistened her lips with her cherry lip-gloss.
After a quick glance at the time – 7:30pm - Christine was ready to leave. Too much practice and she'd be far too sore for class tomorrow.
"Christine!" Bobby Stevens called out as he caught the girl emerging from the room.
Christine winced, then turned to face him. "What is it, Bobby?" she asked. She was really in no mood to talk to Bobby the Pervert.
Today, or any day.
"I just want to say that I admire your determination. Taking all your free time to practice?" he smirked, "Someone might think you're trying to avoid dealing with certain people."
"Go away, Bobby," she said coldly. "I told you I'm not interested. Now if you'll excuse me!"
"It's funny how I haven't seen you with your new man yet," Bobby replied. "I used to see Raoul here at least once a week." He leaned forward. "Did you have a fight with your Erik? Is that why you've been holed up here for the last few weeks?"
Christine wished she had never told him Erik's name. "I just need the practice… and my relationships are none of your business!"
"HAH! I knew it! You're on the outs!" Bobby seemed far too happy about that. Christine began to walk away from him. "Hey, will you give me a chance, at least? One date!" Christine's walk immediately turned into a run. "Aww, c'mon Christine! WAIT!" Bobby called out as he chased her back to Residence.
Christine knew there was only one place she could go where Bobby wouldn't find her.
Warehouse District
Erik stood outside the dilapidated shack, musing that even his room underground (in the basement) was more suitable to life than this miserable excuse for a home. Any normal police officer would have a team assembled, bust down the door and have these imbeciles scrambling for their lives.
He knew better.
He went around to the back of the house and found a loose windowpane. Dislodging the screen, he slowly slid the window open and slipped into the dark bedroom. The smell of urine and stale alcohol assaulted him, and he made his way through the room carefully to the door. Listening, he counted four voices and sensed that two of them were most certainly no longer living in the conventional sense.
Just like two wasted fools not to know that their "friends" were vampires.
Erik moved with stealth along the hallway to watch them. One of the humans and one of the vampires were engaged in a video game, while the other two lounged on a ratty couch, one with a strip of rubber still tied to his bicep.
This was going to be easy.
Before the four men even had a chance to notice the dark figure moving into the room, Erik had one of the vampires by the throat and stabbed him with a stake. The flying dust misted into the hair of the human man who was just sitting beside him. The second vampire struggled to his feet and lunged at Erik, who deflected him to the side.
Recovering on shaky legs, he bared his fangs and charged. This time, Erik caught him by the shirt, pinning his right arm - the one he meant to grab onto the Guild's Executioner with.
Erik hit him in the jaw, a move to hurt not incapacitate. He turned to the two human men, paralyzed with fear. "You had no idea, did you?" He kicked the vampire in the torso and left him crumpled over.
Grabbing one of the men, Erik looked into his glazed, dilated eyes. "You disgust me. You live in squalor, only to feed your addiction when you could be out in the light - living," he said, as he shook the frightened man. Slapping his face, Erik sneered. "You aren't even worth the effort to hit. Your weakness shames everything." He threw the man to the couch, and walked over to pick the vampire up. "You, however, deserve a little comeuppance."
Erik's balled fist connected with the vampire's face, sending the creature reeling. In a flash, Erik had his knee on the creature's groin, pinning him painfully to the floor. Slamming its skull over and over again into the ground, Erik felt a sense of purpose and calm.
This is what I know. This is what I am capable of. I know nothing about being loved.
I only know how to inflict pain.
As the blood flowed out of the creature's head and mouth, Erik neatly crushed its throat, watching it sputter and choke on its own blood before dusting it.
The stench of fresh urine filled the air, and Erik turned around to see the two men passed out. His work was satisfactorily done.
Residence Cellar – Erik's room
Christine quickly let herself into Erik's room. He had not changed anything to keep her out and she realized she could still access the door.
"E-Erik?" Christine called out nervously, but the room was empty. She sighed with relief. What would she say to him anyway? Why had she come here? Why had instinct driven her to his room? Wasn't this the LAST place she should be?
A sound outside the door made her jump. He had come home.
She couldn't face him. Not yet.
Maybe not ever.
She quickly slipped into Erik's closet and sat on the floor, hoping against hope that he wouldn't find her.
Christine bit her lip as she peeked out through the crack between the closed closet door and the wall. She saw Erik pause as he entered his room. He looked around suspiciously, but did nothing more.
Cursing silently, Christine realized she might have very well trapped herself. What if he didn't leave his room? How would she get out? She certainly could not stay there all night!
Go somewhere, Erik. Please? Go! She realized it was a futile plea, though, as he shrugged off his duster. She then noticed he was pulling of his shirt as well… and then …she closed her eyes tightly.
Shouldn't look... shouldn't... no no no, she thought to herself, but found her eyes slowly opening. Christine had to bite her fist to keep from crying out at what she saw…
The cruelly inflicted scars that tormented his back traveled down over his backside and legs as well.
When I was 13, a few older boys in my foster neighbourhood decided to set up a little freak show in their backyard…
…when I tried to hide my face from their customers, they ended up using their father's leather belt as a whip.
Christine buried her face in her hands as she remembered his explanation. His back was one thing… but the rest of him was something else! It meant they had to have stripped him of his clothes to inflict such damage.
Oh God, why? Christine wanted to scream out. Why did you allow that to happen to him?
Was it any wonder Erik tried to keep himself as detached from humanity as possible?
The sound of a door opening caught Christine's attention. She looked through the crack to see Erik had finally made his way into the washroom, his mask lying on the pile of clothes atop his bed.
A few seconds later, Christine heard the shower going.
She took a steadying breath, then stepped out of the closet, and snuck over to the door. She had to get out of here. Now. Or else he would know she saw.
Christine opened the door slowly, ready to leave until...
"I could have sworn I saw her go down here earlier," came Bobby's voice.
"I don't know, Bobby. Why would she be here?" That was Meg. "She doesn't like the dark. And neither do I. Let's go back upstairs."
Bless Meg's heart. She didn't even know how well she was protecting her friend's hiding place.
"No… I just want to look around for a bit." Bobby answered.
Closing the door silently, Christine slipped back into the safety of the closet.
She heard a sound at the front door. A rattling. There was a trick to opening it, and Bobby obviously didn't know what it was.
Christine just closed her eyes… and waited…
Later
Christine's eyes flew open when she heard the sound of shuffling. She didn't even realize she had dozed off, and now every muscle in her body screamed at her for the uncomfortable position.
Afraid to get up, she watched Erik from the cracks in the door of the closet. If he caught her here…
Erik walked towards the closet, and Christine gasped. He stopped dead in his tracks, eyes narrowed, listening. He shrugged, then headed to his desk, grabbing his sweatpants from his chair and pulling them on under his towel, which he tugged off once he was covered.
Erik sat down and put his feet up on his desk, not bothering to put his mask back on. "You may come out of there any time," he spoke aloud, "or I can DRAG you out if you prefer!"
Christine's eyes went wide. How did he know? She kicked herself for asking when she obviously knew the answer. She was breathing so loudly it was no wonder he could hear her. She knew enough about Erik to realize he was attuned to even the slightest sound.
"Listen," Erik spoke up, "I don't know who you are, but if you do not come out of my closet, you will be very sorry!"
Christine tilted her head back against the wall. What was she going to do now?
"Enough of this game!" Erik got to his feet and headed over to the closet.
Christine quickly wished the world would swallow her whole ... or... wait a moment? What was to the left? A grate!
Christine quickly fumbled with the grate, but it barely budged, and the closet didn't allow much room to maneuver. By the time she finally removed it, Erik had swung the door open.
"Christine?" Erik began. "What are you doing here?" He crouched down and offered a hand to help her up.
Murderer!
"Don't touch me!" she gasped suddenly. Erik pulled his hand back as if he had been burned, then slowly stood up and turned his back to her. Christine closed her eyes. Why had she done that? "I'm sorry, Erik… I didn't mean-"
"Yes you did," he interrupted coldly.
Christine cursed her behaviour. In those three words, she had rejected him – just like everyone else had. She shakily got to her feet, "Erik…"
"Why are you here? You haven't wanted to be near me since-" he let the sentence trail … since she found out the truth of what you were…came a taunting voice in Erik's head.
"I… I was hiding," she answered, "… from Bobby the pervert…" She took a deep breath. "He's been bothering me lately, and-"
"And you chose to hide HERE?" Erik scoffed. "Did you hope I would help you with your little problem?" he hissed. "Perhaps I should get my rope! That is all I'm good for, isn't it?"
"I never said that, Erik!" Christine snapped, "I know there's more to you then that!"
He suddenly spun on her, "DO you now?" he asked, then slowly strode towards her, "Then why, dear little Christine, have you been avoiding me like the plague?"
Christine began to back away as he came closer, "It's just… I… I need time!"
"Time? I TOLD you that I wanted NOTHING to do with you when we first met!" he growled. "I TOLD you to leave me alone! But YOU were the one who asked me to teach you. YOU were the one who befriended me! Invited me to the opera! YOU even told people we were seeing each other!"
His voice grew softer. "And for a moment… for one sweet moment… you made me think that perhaps I could be normal..." His tone turned cold once more. "And now… now YOU want TIME?"
Christine let out a startled shout as she found the wall against her back. "Erik, please! I…I'm sorry!"
"SORRY, Christine?" He asked as he towered over her. "Are you sorry you did all that? Are you apologizing for making me think you cared?" She looked away, unable to see the pain in his eyes and know she was the cause of it.
Erik grasped her chin and forced her to look back up at him. "I should be used to this by now, shouldn't I? To being rejected? I should have realized I'm only important if I am useful in some way."
Erik let out a harsh laugh. "I give you credit, little one - at least it wasn't my face that sent you running!" His tirade suddenly stopped as he felt a warm wetness trickle on the hand holding her chin. Christine had started crying.
He quickly dropped his hand and stepped away, turning his back to her once again. "Just get out," he spoke quietly. "I don't know why I allow myself to feel anything anymore…"
There was a moment of silence. Erik then heard his bedroom door open and the sound of little feet racing down the hall before it closed once again.
Christine was gone.
Dean Giry's Private Dorm – 20 minutes later
"Momma?" Meg started as she came into her mother's room.
"Yes, dear. What is it?" Giry asked.
"Um… I'm worried about Christine," she started as she sat on her mother's bed.
"Is there something wrong with her?" Giry asked.
Meg shrugged, "I don't know. I saw her just before. She was crying. Said something about how Erik hates her, and went running up to the roof."
Giry raised an eyebrow, "Well, I assure you that Erik does not hate Christine. If anything, he worries it is SHE who dislikes HIM."
"Well… it's not true," Meg replied. "She cares for him. A lot." She shrugged. "I don't know. Those two have some serious issues to work out." Meg then took a deep breath. "My other concern is that Bobby Stevens has been hounding her. She tells him to go away, and he just doesn't give up. I think I saw him following her to the roof."
"Did you now?" Giry asked.
Meg nodded. "And if she's so upset, I'm afraid he may try to take advantage of that."
Giry let out a sigh. "I will take care of it, Meg. You just go back to your dorm. I believe you have some studying to do?"
Meg winced. Her mother always knew when she had a test coming up. "Ok, Momma… I'll go study. But Christine-"
"She will be fine," Giry replied. "Go on now."
Meg nodded, then headed out.
Giry picked up her cell phone, and dialed the first number on her list. "Hello, Erik. You may want to go to the roof…"
Ravelle College – Roof
Christine sat upon the angel statue atop the roof, staring out at the campus beneath her. She watched everyone milling about, minding their own business.
She wondered if one of them was Erik.
Christine hugged herself as she remembered the argument in his room. The pain in his voice was unbearable. She had hurt him. Far more then any inhuman creature ever could.
"Christine?"
Christine winced at the voice, "God, Bobby. What do you WANT from me?"
"I just want to know why you keep giving me the cold shoulder!" He started as he walked towards the statue.
Christine shook her head, "Bobby, please... I'm involved with someone right now. I told you that!"
"Then why are you sitting on this roof by yourself instead of with him?" Bobby asked.
"I saw him last night." Christine lied.
"No you didn't. Last night, you were working!" he pointed out.
"You... you've been FOLLOWING me? " Christine gasped.
"Of course I-" he stopped, realizing what she must be thinking about him. Bobby ran a hand through his hair. How to get out of this? He couldn't tell her why he was watching her. His boss would not want her to know.
Christine shook her head in disbelief. "I can't believe you've been FOLLOWING me!"
"No. It's not what you think!" Bobby said quickly.
Christine climbed down the statue to face him. "It's EXACTLY what I think. And here I was under the impression you were only a pervert."
Bobby quickly walked towards her. "Wait. Let me explain!"
Christine took a step back, shaking her head.
"Just listen to me!"
"Christine!" Erik suddenly burst through the doorway to the roof, noticing the only other two people occupying the space. "YOU!" he hissed at the boy. "Get AWAY from her!"
In a blur of black, Erik stood mere inches away from Bobby. The boy jumped. How on Earth did he move so fast? "Are you her Erik?" Bobby gasped. Erik narrowed his eyes – golden eyes. Bobby had seen eyes like that before.
"Why?" Bobby asked, confused. "Why did you pretend to be someone else? And why are you wearing a mask? Why did you tell me to steal her away from YOURSELF? I don't get it!"
Erik seemed stunned at Bobby's words. "What are you talking about, boy?" he asked. "She is not mine, first of all. And if she were…" he met Christine's eyes, "I would not want ANYONE to steal her away."
Bobby shook his head, "This… this makes no sense!" He then frowned, "Take off the mask!"
"No. I don't think so." Erik replied.
"Take it off!" Bobby demanded. "Stop pretending to be two people!"
"There is only ONE me," Erik hissed. "And I assure you, the rest of the world is quite grateful for that!"
"Stop it!" Bobby snapped, "Stop MESSING with me! You're crazy, aren't you?" He looked towards Christine. "He's insane! He pretends to be someone else and tells me to follow you around and try to get your attention!"
"Bobby, no," Christine started. "You don't understand what's going on. Please. Erik isn't this other person." Erik turned to Christine. They both knew whom she was referring to. Only one other person could confuse Bobby this way.
"How do YOU know?" Bobby asked.
"Because I think I know who's trying to set you up here," she explained. "And trust me, it's not Erik! He just… he looks like him, that's all."
"Oh yeah? Let's SEE how much he looks like him!" Bobby replied. Before Erik could stop the boy, Bobby ripped the mask from his face. "My god!" Bobby froze as he looked upon what had to be Death himself. "What the hell?"
"I do hope you're satisfied!" Erik hissed. "As you can see, I am NOT that other man!"
"What are you?" Bobby asked, readying his stance in case Erik attacked, but Erik was above making the first move. It was for the better as Bobby could not take his eyes from the horrific sight of the man's face. Finally, he attempted to connect a right swing, but the skilled hunter ducked easily.
Hoping to keep the boy unharmed, Erik reached out to grab him and immobilize him, but Bobby slipped out from under his grasp, twisting away and reaching into his coat pocket. The masked man grabbed his shoulders and tried to force him to the ground.
Erik felt a sudden fire burn across his midsection. He clutched at his abdomen and noticed the warm sticky wetness on his fingers. His eyes slowly slid to the bloody knife in Bobby Steven's right hand, and the boy dropped it immediately, shocked at what he had just done.
"Oh god, I didn't-I didn't mean to! I just… I got scared!" he gasped. "I-" He grew silent when he saw Erik's eyes. Cold. Dark. Dangerous.
The blackness had taken control.
The pain in Erik's body did not exist now as his bloody hands wrapped around the boy's throat, leaving Bobby gasping for air as the boy tried to fight the vice-like fingers around his neck. It was a futile struggle. The boy's eyes slowly rolled back into his head, his body going limp, falling unmoving at Erik's boots.
Bobby wasn't dead, Erik was sure of that. And the boy was lucky he had passed out, though whether it was from fear or lack of oxygen, Erik didn't know.
Erik turned back to Christine, who appeared frightened at what she had just witnessed. "Get away from the edge…" he spoke, his voice strained as he held out a hand. "Please... Christine," he pleaded. "You'll fall..."
Christine stumbled back, unable to look away from the blood on Erik's hands.
Erik's gaze followed hers. "It's not his..." he tried to explain, but she wasn't listening, her feet shuffling back a few more inches.
The next step she took was almost her last as she felt herself lose her balance. Desperate hands grasped at thin air as a frightened cry ripped from Christine's throat. She heard Erik call out her name, felt his slippery fingers grab her wrists, and soon found herself pulled from the ledge with such force that she landed atop him.
"I promise, Christine - Bobby is only unconscious…" Erik's hoarse voice hissed in her ear. "I had no other choice!"
Christine looked down into his tortured face, realizing he had not only saved her life, but softened her landing as best he could.
"Oh god… I'm so sorry!" she blurted out as the guilt hit her. Executioner he may be, but evil he was not. She had thought only the worst after finding out about his special assignments, letting everything else she knew about him disappear from her mind.
"Erik?" She asked worriedly when she noticed his pale complexion growing even paler. "Erik! Are you-" she stopped as she felt something wet seeping through her clothing. She pushed herself off him and saw the red stain on her t-shirt. It wasn't her blood, she knew that. She wasn't hurt. So where-
Christine let out a startled cry as she yanked his shirt up and saw the violent slice across his abdomen. "Oh god... oh god oh god! You're hurt! What do I do? How... how do I stop it?"
"I… I'll… be … fine…" Erik gasped. He tried to sit up, but the pain was too much. "Just… just go…Christine! GO!"
Without another word, he collapsed back onto the cold hard ground, only vaguely aware of a voice calling out his name.
Private Hospital Room – later
Christine studied the unmoving man lying on the bed before her. She had replaced his mask after he had passed out, and immediately ran to find Dean Giry. Christine understood, somehow, that the ballet mistress would know exactly what to do and who to call.
And she had. The doctor had just finished stitching Erik up and excused himself from the room.
Christine glanced up at Giry, who stood silently a few feet away. "Why didn't that doctor ask questions about the mask?"
"He is one of ours," Giry replied.
Christine furrowed her brow, "Ours? You mean, part of the Guild?" Giry nodded. "Will Erik be ok?"
"Yes. He is a fast healer. He just needs rest right now."
"I should make him more comfortable," Christine said as she reached over and slipped her fingers beneath his mask.
"Wait," Giry said quickly, stopping Christine before she could remove the black leather. "He has never let me see his face," she explained. "If you insist on taking the mask off, do so after I leave. I do not wish to suffer his wrath by looking upon him without permission."
"Would he really be that mad?" Christine asked, but she knew better - Erik's mask was not to be removed.
"Furious," Dean Giry replied. "And not only about that... but about the very fact that I am here witnessing his current state."
Christine furrowed her brow. "What's wrong with helping him though?" she asked. "I mean... whenever I'm hurt or sick, I'm pretty grateful when people help me out."
Giry offered a ghost of a smile. "But you are not Erik, Miss Daaé. You are used to such things. You do not worry that people will use it against you." She shook her head. "That is the greatest difference between Erik and everyone else - he is suspicious of anyone who may assist him. I believe you are the only person he has ever completely trusted."
She patted Christine on the shoulder, making the girl feel worse than before, if that was possible.
Yes. He trusted me, and I ran away from him…
"Now I suggest you leave before he wakes up. He will not be very forgiving if you stay here, watching over him like he was a child. I daresay he will get rather... irritated. I speak from my own experience," Giry explained. "I learned long ago that the more pain Erik is in, the more he wishes to be left alone," without another word, Giry exited the room.
Christine watched Giry leave, then turned back to Erik. His temper be damned - she was freeing him from the discomfort of his mask.
She leaned back and ran her eyes over his unmoving form, biting her lip worriedly as she saw how Erik's skeletal face and natural paleness made him look like a healthy corpse.
Sliding quietly onto the bed, Christine leaned down and rested her forehead against his. "If you can hear me, I'm sorry. I know I've been causing you a lot of trouble lately. I... I just got so scared when I found out. I mean... you get that, right?"
Christine stopped, realizing it was pointless to try to explain this to him in his current state. Instead, she tilted her head to gave him a delicate kiss on the cheek, then slowly… ever so slowly… her mouth began to move of its own accord. Christine didn't know what possessed her or why… but some hidden longing - or merely curiousity - slid her lips over his.
Her eyes closed as she lingered and felt his warm breath mingle with her own. Christine dared to wonder what it would feel like if he were conscious of her stolen kiss. Aware of what she was doing.
Would he respond? Would he push her away?
She would probably never know.
Christine slowly pulled back and gazed down at his face - no, her kiss had not turn him into a handsome prince, nor did she expect it to. But a pretty face meant nothing to her now.
With a shaky breath, Christine carefully curled up beside Erik's still form and rested her head on his chest, letting out a relieved sigh when she heard his strong comforting heartbeat.
Christine then closed her eyes… and allowed sleep to take her.
Ravelle College – roof
The Leader walked around the unmoving form of Bobby Stevens. "Wake up," he said. Bobby's eyes immediately flew open, the boy gasping desperately for breath. "Stand up." Bobby did so. "Now what do you have to say for yourself?"
Bobby's glassy eyes looked up at his master. "I… failed…"
"Yes. You did."
"I didn't know what to do! The plan wasn't working! You said you wanted her out of the way."
"You were meant to steal her away! I needed him emotionally shattered and mentally susceptible. Not ANGRY! He's far too uncontrollable when he's ANGRY," Mr. Shay snapped.
"Why is this person so important that I ended up becoming an insane stalker and stabbing Christine's ugly-as-death boyfriend – who reminds me way too much of you, by the way!"
The Leader looked down at the boy before him, his voice quiet and dangerous when he spoke. "You. Did. What?" he hissed. "You STABBED my SON?"
Bobby's eyes went wide, "You… your SON?" he sputtered. "How? You … you look the same age as him!"
"You humans…" Mr. Shay shook his head disapprovingly, then looked down at Bobby. "I suppose I should punish you now."
"P-punish?" Bobby gasped.
The Leader scowled. "If my son does not recover properly, then I will do MORE then simply punish you!" Mr. Shay narrowed his eyes. "Let us just say, you will not be doing much dancing for a while…"
Private Hospital Room – 2 hours later
Odd was the sight that greeted Erik when he awoke. He was quite convinced his mind was playing tricks on him.
He tried to remember what had happened. A blade had slashed his flesh when he had faced off with Christine's new admirer.
Blood.
Yes, he had lost a lot of blood. But he had choked his attacker into unconsciousness before finally pulling Christine away from the edge of the roof.
He had then allowed sweet oblivion to come over him, silently begging for his life-long torment to end.
And now, he had awoken in a hospital room, surrounded by soft warmth... the scent of apples… and the sweet taste of cherry on his lips.
Was he dead?
Surely he had to be, for in life no female would wrap her arms around him so affectionately - no woman would be curled up against him so soundly. No little angel would lay her head upon his chest and fall asleep so easily.
Angels would not even be near something like him. Not when a creature like Erik belonged more with demons.
The form beside him stirred slightly, muttering a soft word. Was that his name? Erik tilted his head slightly to get a better look at the creature that had taken him into her eternal embrace.
Her eyelids fluttered open slowly, revealing warm blue depths, "Hey..." she began groggily, "You finally woke up."
"Christine!" Erik cried out in alarm as he shot up in bed, sending the poor girl nearly crashing to the floor. The sudden movement doubled him over in pain, causing him to shout out as he clutched at his abdomen.
He felt a hand on his shoulder and immediately shook it off. "DON'T!" he hissed. "Don't touch me!"
Christine froze as her earlier words were thrown back at her. Did he even realize it? Now she knew how painful it was to hear them.
Erik ran his free hand over his face and realized he wore no mask. He quickly allowed his ebony hair to fall over his horrible visage, hiding himself from Christine's eyes.
"STOP IT!" he demanded as he turned his head away from her inquiring gaze. "Stop looking at me! GET OUT!"
The more pain Erik is in ... the more he wishes to be left alone... Christine remembered Giry's words. She had warned Christine that Erik would get... irritated...
Irritated was putting it nicely. He was downright furious.
"I SAID, get OUT!" Erik roared.
Christine could only stare at him, "Do you really hate me that much?"
Erik suddenly stood up, towering over the petite girl as his injury was momentarily forgotten, "How selfish to think this is about you," he hissed. Christine turned away from those angry eyes, but he grasped her chin and forced her to face him. "No, little girl! This has nothing to do with you!" he hissed.
"Erik-"
"I REFUSE to allow some silly child to play with me, only to abandon me the moment she finds out something she does not like!" he continued. "Or maybe it's OK now since I almost killed a man on your behalf. Is that it, Christine?" His golden eyes glinted in the low light.
He let go of her chin and pointed to the door, "If you truly wish to make yourself useful, girl, buy me a book to read while I'm stuck in this sterile hell!" He turned his scarred back to her.
"I did this," Christine spoke softly. "Instead of talking to you about it, I just avoided you. I added to all the pain inside."
"I'm so sorry!" she continued. "I wanted to show you that I wasn't like them. I wanted you to know that not everyone rejects you! And… I know it seems like I did just the opposite. Like I just… just proved… I was like everyone else." She swallowed hard, not quite sure what she was saying but going with instinct.
"But you don't understand! How was I supposed to respond when I found out about... about the executioner?" She asked. "It scared me! I needed some time to deal..." Her voice grew softer. "Erik, please... don't hate me for that." She hesitantly reached a hand out, brushing her fingers over the faded scars on his back – a physical reminder of everything he had suffered.
"STOP!" Erik spun on her. Christine winced at his anger, and Erik froze. What was he doing? Had he become such a monster? Had his behaviour really terrified this sweet girl before him?
Erik took a deep breath, his expression softening as he slowly lifted his hand and palmed Christine's cheek. "I am a miserable creature, aren't I, Christine?" he asked quietly, his thumb brushing across her skin. "It is me who frightened you away. I apologize for that. I should have understood. Of course you needed time. It's no wonder you avoided me."
He dropped his hand and turned away, ashamed of his behaviour. "Perhaps it's better if you avoid me. Permanently," he said. "It would save us both this distress." He shook his head, "The last thing I ever want to do is scare you."
Christine reached out for his arm and turned him back towards her. She saw his eyes grow wide as she wrapped her arms around his torso, mindful of his injury. "Then stop yelling at me so much..." she muttered softly.
Erik let out a shaky breath and licked his lips nervously – still wondering at the strange sweet taste upon them.
He turned his hideous face from her, closing his eyes tightly as he tried to force his emotions down. He cupped her shoulders in an awkward attempt to return an embrace he was not used to.
While things momentarily seemed to be comfortable between them, Erik realized that one more horrifying revelation would send Christine running permanently. He could not bear that again.
He knew, then, that he had to keep quiet. He could not tell her about the emotions warring inside him. About the fire threatening to consume him.
After all - what would be more horrifying for the girl than having a monster like himself offer up a damaged soul?
END OF EPISODE 17