The chapter you all have been waiting for, where I finally reveal her name... duuuuuuuuuuuun dun dun dun duuunnnnnnnnnn.
Little Lotte- please don't hurt me, I am really sorry for this, I literally weeped as I wrote. I love you!
Chapter 38
It has been eight years since I first met Erik, and I have never regretted one of those two thousand nine hundred twenty-two days. Through the sorrow, and joy, I would not have changed one minute of it.
If someone was to tell me my life would turn out like this, I would have laughed at them. Who would have thought I would be a mother of three, beautiful children, Henrik, Antoinette, Genivere, And another of his inside me. That I would live like royalty, in this comforting surrounding Erik has created for the children and I, That I would have found such a love. My Erik, things have not changed a bit over the years, probably the reason I have so many children.
My figure was never given the chance to return to what it once was, but even with carrying three children, I am not as large as most of the other women to have births so close together. When Henrik was born, I worried about ever returning to dance, but the thought faded quickly as he grew. Despite how I had once felt about children, having my own, with the man I love beside me, I couldn't be happier raising them.
How much my children resemble their father, little Genivere and Henrik have his brilliant green-blue eyes, while Antoinette has my own deep ash-brown eyes. They all have soft blond hair, Genivere inheriting my curls, while the other's have his pin strait locks. They all have his dominated features, except little Henrik with my tip-tilted nose. Erik has taught them well, despite their young ages of six, four, and three. He has bathed them in the arts, allowing each one to take up their own nitch. Henrik has taken to music like his father, any instrument in Erik's collection, which might have more instruments than a full orchestra, his fingers have passed over, the organ, and violin he plays quite well. Antoinette has found herself sketching, mostly of her siblings, and occasionally Ayesha. Genivere spends hours playing dress up, claiming on day she wants to be a ballerina just like her mother. Erik has even taught the oldest two to read, classics that are far beyond a normal child's range, the fist book our little Henrik read being Faust, but of course. Every night, the children gather around as the two oldest, Erik and I take turns reading, at the moment we have found our selfs in the mist of Pride and Prejudice.
For some reason, the children seem unusual restless today, probably because Erik is not home. My husband and brother when of early this morning, and have yet to return, despite the failing light.
Meg has spent all day at my side, chasing after my children as best as she can, practicing. For as long as Meg and Murtagh have been together, They have never married, and just now are expecting their first child. For the first time all day, the two of us collapsed on a pair of arm chairs in the drawing room, exhausted from the bickering between the Anny and Gen.
"Ready for your own?" I teased Meg, who looked down at her bulbous torso. She is about midway through her pregnancy, while I just found out about mine.
"I don't see how you can do it to be honest." Meg spoke, placing her hand over stomach.
"How can you keep a smile upon your face, with so many?" I hadn't realized it till then that a wide grin lay upon my face.
"It's all because of Erik." I told her plainly.
"If he wasn't here to help me with them, I don't know what I would do. They actually listen to him."
The two of us giggled as if we were young ones, before my oldest entered the room.
"Mother, Meggie, Madame Roxanne is here, she says it's important." He panted out, winded no doubt from running up the winding stairs. Despite our body's wishes, we rose from the chairs, and quickly followed Henrik to the main atrium, where Roxanne stood, soaked to the bone, from a mixture of water, and blood.
"What's wrong?" I rushed to her, worried for my soon to me midwife. Coming closer to her, the severity of her injuries came into view. Nothing deadly, but someone had certainly taken time to inflict multiple bruises, and count less shallow cuts.
"It's Erik." Her face turned pale.
"Dorian is back. Please, Erik needs you." Fear flickered in her eyes.
"What? Where?" I tried to control the fear in my voice, so that Henrik wouldn't hear it, but no avail.
"In front of the Opera House." Henrik grabbed at my skirt, bringing my attention down to him.
"What's wrong with father?" He asked, the fear I carried in my eyes spread to his.
"Nothing Henry," I tried to reassure him, sinking to my knees.
"He just needs me to go to him, will you behave for Meg?" Hesitantly, Henrik nodded his head, letting go of my skirt. Meg shot me a worried glance, before I disappeared through the name doors. Running as fast as my feet could carry me, I made my way through the rain to the stables, there was no way I could make it to the opera house on foot, and it was too late to call for a carriage. Making my way past the few horses we owned, I stopped in front of my black mare, the sweet creature Erik had given to me when we first moved into this home. It took only a minute to place the reins and saddle upon her.
We rode off as fast as she could take me. With Each gallop, she unwillingly kicked the dirty water up from the street onto the hem of my dress, but that didn't matter, only getting to my Erik.
His was not the first time Dorian has returned, but nothing has happened between him and Erik since that day I had to bandage my husband up. He has gotten into fights with Roxanne, the poor dear, I don't know why she stayed attached to that horrid man, I have never been able to figure her out.
As we approached the opera house, we found ourself running into a group of people standing in front of the steps.
"Get out of my way!" I screamed at them, not caring what they thought, only that they let me get to my Erik. Slowly the group parted, allowing me to get closer. When Murtagh came into view, standing at the top of the steps, I dismounted my mare, hurrying over to my brother. Erik sat on the other side of the steps, curled up, his face buried into his hands.
"Murtagh, what in God's name is going on?" I practically yelled at him as I approached him. In all they years I have known my brother, this was the first time he remained silent, only glancing over at my husband fearfully.
I looked around the group that surrounded them. Most of them I recognized as stagehands, or grown messenger boys from the Opera House. The same look of fear sat among all their faces, but one. The man that stood apart from the rest, a malicious smile upon that twisted face, Dorian.
"What's the matter Erik? Don't want people to see the real you? The monster?" He raised his his arm out of his cloak, revealing Erik's wax mask.
"Don't want them to look upon your face? You don't want them to see the devil's child? Although, I hear you go by The Phantom now." His malicious voice enraged the crowd.
"Erik!" Without thinking, I found myself sinking down beside him, wrapping him into my embrace, kissing his back wig.
"Take no notice of the Harlem girl! This monster, he killed her, He is responsible for Madame Giry's death!" The crowd roared with hatred again.
My heart felt as if it would burst. Madame Giry? No, it can't be.
Erik's body began to shake, as he sobbed into my chest. Not only to comfort him, but myself, I pulled him closer to me, stroking his hair.
"Erik?" I whimpered, tears streaming down my face.
"I didn't. You know I would never hurt her, I love her, I always have. I don't know what happened. She was furious at Murtagh and I... She just collapsed. I...I" His muffled voice spoke into me.
"Shh... I know you wouldn't." I looked up at that monster, He held my hate filled glare for a moment, before returning to the crowd.
"Stop Lying beast! I saw you, you pulled out that famous magic lasso of yours." His voice hissed. From behind him, one young man stepped forward, wiping some of the rain from his forehead.
"How could you have seen him? When you where sitting in the inn, drinking, because your girlfriend left you." I recognized the voice to be of John Mazabeth. He joined us at the steps, smiling at me briefly, as if to show that he remembered me.
"Shut up, you foolish boy! You know nothing of this matter." Dorian dropped Erik's mask, reaching into his pocket for something else, a pistol.
The sound of the shot echoed around us, as John fell to the ground, blood pulsing from the wound between his green eyes.
The crowd silenced, as Erik practically jumped from my arms, staring at Dorian with hatred. The crowd silently gasped at my Husbands face, flinching back in horror.
"You call me the monster? You just shot an innocent boy!" Erik's overpowering voice echoed just as the gunshot, silencing the crowd completely.
"Please don't do any thing stupid, my love." I whispered, secretly pleading to him. As quickly as Dorian had pulled the gun, Erik had his sword from it's sheath, the tip of the blade hovering just above his throat.
"Come on, you beast, kill me! Show them all the real monster you are." That wicked smile grew, as Erik's hand began to quiver. Slowly, he pulled the sword from his neck, turning his back to Dorian.
"I am no monster." Erik approached me, taking my hands in his, helping me up off the ground.
"Lets go home." I pulled myself up onto my toes, kissing his nose.
"The children miss you." As I spoke, Erik seemed to lunge forward, a bewildered look hung on his face.
"Erik?" I broke from him, trying to understand what had happened. Dorian stepped out from behind Erik, that grin upon his face. he held in his hand, a sharp, deep red object. A knife. Erik stumbled forward into my arms.
"No." It couldn't be, I wrapped my arms around my fallen love, his precious blood flowed over my fingers.
"Mon Ange."Erik gasped out, raising his face to mine.
"I didn't kill her, I haven't killed since I met you, I haven't touched the Punjab since it met your neck." He whimpered out, desperately.
"I know Erik, you don't have to say anything." I could feel the hot tears stream down my face,.
"I love you, Mon Ange."
"Erik, no, I'm going to take care of you, you're going to be fine." He can't, I refuse to believe it.
I pulled him closer to my, pulling off his wig, burring my face into his splotchy blond hair.
"I love you Mon Ange, My Wife, You have given my heaven, and now I shall wait for you there. I Love you Jammes." With one last gasping breath, he closed those perfect , tender eyes, letting his life slip away.
"Erik, no, Erik, don't leave me, Erik." I moaned, cradling his body closer to mine. Slowly, I kissed his lips praying he would awake like in a fairy tale, but my angel shall never wake, never.
"I love you Erik." I couldn't let him go, I can't. What is worth living without my angel? Why hadn't he stabbed me too? Why couldn't I have died in my Angel's place?
I don't know how it happened, but my body rose from Erik's, turning to that monster. Rage pulsed through my body, Only one thing crossed my mind, revenge.
He will pay.
Slowly I stepped forward, my hands involuntarily curling into a tight fist, my nails riping into my own skin.
"Erik should have killed you when he had the chance! You are no man!" I screamed. Letting my voice pulse with my utter most hatred for that thing.
"He is my husband! The father of my children! Of my unborn child! My best friend! My lover! My world!" The hard flesh of my hand found itself crushing into that monster's face, my ring cutting deep into him, causing him to fall to the floor. His knife slip out of his hand, as his gun fell from his holster. Murtagh rushed to my side, picking up the weapons, and stepping back. He wouldn't even dream of stopping me. No one will deny me.
The world around me seemed to disappear, the crowd, Murtagh, the life less bodies, only Dorian was in my vision. He rose, wiping the blood from his mouth, never losing that grin.
That same beast that had been released so long ago on Christine escaped, this time with more furry than a wounded banshee. The world around me blurred, only the smell of his blood, the feel of it's warmth mixing with the cool rain, the sound of his shortening breath, the thrill of the kill mattered.
"How dare you take his life! He spared yours! He acted as a real man should! He is a genius! A musician! A composer! A writer! An architect! He is perfect! Perfect! His soul is pure! He is an angel! An angel!" My voice echoed around me, bringing the world back.
I was on top of what must have been Dorian, although his face was unrecognizable. I staggered off of him, looking around at the crowd. No one spoke, no one moved. They just stared at me, both pity and fear in those faces.
"Jammes." Murtagh's voice whimpered beside me. His strong arms wrapped around me.
The gravity of the situation hit me: My angel was murdered, and I murdered for him.
I sank to the ground, Murtagh falling right beside me. He cradled me in his arms as I sobbed uncontrollably into him.
This can't be happening, this can't be real.