If it wasn't for all your support, this chapter would have taken a lot longer to come out. Thank you for all the wonderful reviews. I do have most of the story planned, but sometimes the details are difficult to work out.
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Drops of icy water steadily leaked down from the jagged cracks in the ceiling, landing into the plastic bucket with a dull thud. Nadir wearily looked toward the grating sound, rubbing his temples in frustration and exhaustion. A gust of cold wind swept against the walls of the apartment, slamming the drops of cold rain into the windows and suppressing any heat that had managed to get through the broken vents. He would have killed to be back under the hot sun of his own country at that moment.
Over a week had passed since his arrival, and the Iranian had found absolutely nothing. He had scanned the crowded streets of New York City for hours upon hours. He had contacted men from the highest levels of society to the drunken lowlifes that made up the criminal underworld. Few people knew anything of interest. Those that did have information refused to speak, rushing off the phone in a matter of seconds. If Erik had any power, he certainly had learned to rule with an invisible hand.
What worried Nadir even more was that he had heard nothing of Christine Daae. He had finally discovered the number of her apartment, but no one had been home during the dozens of times that he had called. She supposedly lived with an elderly lady, but Nadir had no idea as to where the woman was.
Several times, he had considered calling the police and allowing professionals to handle the matter. Nadir wondered if he would be putting Ms. Daae into more danger by doing so, and he doubted that the authorities would be able to find much anyway. Assuming that Ms. Daae was still alive, Erik would pull a vanishing act the second he discovered that the police were involved. For now, Nadir convinced himself that it was best to keep the situation as calm as possible.
Looking back to that night, Nadir didn't remember why he had left his cellular phone on. Few people had access to the number, and he certainly wasn't expecting any calls or messages. Perhaps he had clicked it on to check the time, as many of the appliance clocks were broken. Nevertheless, the phone rang at around ten p.m., abruptly startling him away from his newspaper. Nadir jumped out of the chair and answered it, expecting someone who had the wrong number. "Hello?"
"Good evening, friend."
Nadir froze. Even after all these years, that damned voice still caused a chill to travel up his spine. Although he had no idea how Erik had discovered the phone number, Nadir really wasn't surprised.
"Erik," the Iranian replied, keeping his voice calm.
"You really should have consulted me about real estate in this city, my friend. Your new home is rather atrocious. Tell me, do the rats climb in through all the cracks in those cheap walls? You must at least see a couple of mice per day." Erik chuckled, obviously amused with the fact that he knew the exact location of Nadir's residence.
Nadir remained composed. "Erik," he repeated. "Where the hell are you? Where is that poor girl? You have got to release her. This is kidnaping!"
"I do not have to do anything. And you, Nadir, are not placing yourself into the best of situations by making such demands. You know nothing of what is going on!" A vibrant energy sounded from Erik's voice, mingling with the normal tone of cold indifference.
Nadir took a slow seat on the sofa, not knowing what to make of the situation. "Is she even still alive?" he asked, keeping calm even though he dreaded the answer.
"How dare you ask that!" hissed Erik. "I would never hurt her! Ever." His voice suddenly changed. "You see, Nadir, everything is perfect. She is completely wonderful! She returned to me!"
"What?"
"Christine didn't run when she was able to. She returned to me! Even after she had seen my face! And I love her. And she will soon love me!"
Nadir was silent for a moment. He had never heard Erik sound so strangely excited over another human being. He took a deep breath, not knowing how to go about this without risking his life. "My friend," he slowly began. "You need to release her. If I'm going to believe you, I want to see Ms. Daae free and out of your company."
"I don't have to prove anything to you!" he retorted with a growl. "But soon you will see Christine, along with the rest of the unworthy world. And you will see how free she is. Then, after she has sung in her divine voice, she will always willingly return to me. Because she loves me."
"I want to see that girl now. I want some proof that she is alive, and then I want you to release her."
"Patience, Nadir. You are in no position to give me orders. But I promise that you will see her in time. After that, I expect you to leave this country."
The Iranian paused, knowing that he was going to get nowhere asking about Christine. He would wait and see if Erik's promise held true. Other questions had to be asked before the conversation ended, and his masked friend wasn't one to talk for long. "All right, Erik. All right. But now to other matters. That stuff is still missing. It's been gone ever since you left the region. Where is it?"
Erik chuckled. "Always back to this? As I have told you repeatedly, I do not know. And I do not care. Quit asking me."
Now, Nadir became angry, gripping onto the worn armrest of the sofa with his free hand. "You had better care where it is! You created half of it!"
"Ah! But I was rarely the one to disperse it into the air, my friend. I merely made it. What others chose to do with it was really none of my concern."
"You will never take responsibility for anything, will you? You will never change!"
"And you knew that when you snuck me onto that refugee helicopter, didn't you, Nadir?" asked Erik, his voice slightly distant. "I sometimes wonder why you chose to save my life."
"I saved your life because I thought you could do some good once you were out of that damned region. You turned those viruses into weapons! I thought maybe you would have the genius to cure them, too. I had hope for your brilliance, Erik. Maybe I was wrong."
A silence passed, and Nadir was afraid that the line had been disconnected.
"I fear that you are wrong. Why would you ever think that I would have any interest in saving humankind? No, Nadir. I have only one concern at this moment. One purpose. My past in your godforsaken country is long behind me. I prefer to forget it. "
"Where are the germs, Erik? The chemicals? If you don't tell me, I will call the authorities. And that girl-I want immediate proof that she's alive. No more games. This is going to end."
"For the very last time, I do not know where they are. Some crazed faction has likely gotten its hands on them by now. And furthermore..." His voice became quiet and deadly. "You will stay away from Christine, my friend. If you get in the way of our love, I will come after you. Nothing will stand in the way of our happiness!"
Nadir started to reply when he heard a voice on the other end. A pretty, female voice. He couldn't discern her exact words, but it sounded like she was asking a question. The Iranian felt a slight wave of relief pass over him. At least he now knew for certain that she was alive.
Erik spoke back to her, quickly taking on a gentler voice. "Of course, Christine. You can have anything you wish for." He must have placed his hand over the receiver, for Nadir couldn't hear what else was said.
Erik returned after several moments, his tone light again. "She is very well mannered. And I would give her anything, Nadir. Anything. If only you could see our happiness."
"Erik," said the Iranian, softly. "Please stop this madness. I am begging you."
"I am doing nothing wrong!" he rasped. "This conversation has lasted far longer than it was ever meant to. If you try to interfere, you will not get far. Leave this city. That is my final warning to you. "
"Erik..." he began again. The phone clicked off, though, leaving the hollow sound of the dial tone ringing in his ear. Nadir quickly checked the caller identification but was not surprised to find that the number was untraceable. He wearily rubbed a hand over his face and laid the phone down onto the seat cushion next to him.
After a moment of staring into space, Nadir picked his newspaper up again, having nothing to do but resume waiting for whatever was to come. Somehow, even the dismal news was less troubling than the events going on around him.
The day at the hospital had completely drained Christine of her energy. She had slept throughout the entire car ride back to the city, only awaking when she felt the vehicle jolt to a stop at its destination.
A gust of cold air hit her as Erik opened her car door, and she slowly climbed out onto the dark, decrepit streets. In an exhausted trance, Christine walked toward the steps and began downward, Erik's footsteps always behind her. He said nothing the entire time, appearing to be lost in his own thoughts. When she stumbled over a crack halfway down, she swore she felt one of his cold hands touch her shoulder to steady her. Regaining her balance, Christine quickly continued downward and waited for Erik to unlock the door.
Stepping into the heated air of the basement apartment, she blinked tiredly as Erik turned on the lights. Christine avoided thinking about the fact that she had returned to the gilded prison without a struggle. At the moment, she was warm and comfortable. A bed awaited her in the other room, and no decisions had to be faced. Despite her situation, there was no reason to be terrified at the moment.
"You are tired," stated Erik from behind her, obviously noticing her pale features as he turned to lock the door.
Christine nodded, her eyes widening slightly when she saw that it was only a little after eight. It felt like the middle of the night. "Yes. I'm going to sleep now." She began to make her way to her bedroom.
"Wait, Christine." She turned around at his soft command. "I want to discuss something with you. As I've told you many times, my plan was always to display your voice for the world to hear. I wish to make you known to all. Would you like that, Christine? The choice is yours."
"To sing? Professionally?" Her eyes drifted to the floor. "I never thought about it. I never thought I was good enough."
"Never say that!" he exclaimed, causing her to jump. His voice softened. "You can go as far as you wish. All you have to do is ask. Now that you have come back to me, I know that you will always return."
Christine hesitated, almost too tired to think clearly. He was offering her fame? Either Erik was lying, or he had more power than she had imagined. But did she want it? Her mind drifted back to the applause that she had received after her last performance, and a small smile graced her lips. It had felt wonderful to be loved by an entire room of people. Mrs. Valerius and her father would have wanted it for her.
She bit her lip, quickly remembering her current situation. If she were to sing in public, Erik would obviously have to let her back out again. The opportunity would also be another possible chance at freedom.
The answer seemed obvious, no matter which trek her mind took. "Yes, Erik," she finally stated. "I would like that. Thank you."
Christine could tell that he was smiling beneath the mask. "Very well, then. You will have it. All you must do is sing. I will take care of everything. And then, we will show them all, Christine." He clasped his hands together, staring at her in a way that made her heart quicken.
She nodded. "All right. I'll do my best. But I don't know if I can..."
"No more doubts," he interrupted. "You will stun and amaze them. Your voice is a piece of heaven."
Her gaze fell back to the carpeted floor. "Thank you," she murmured.
"Go to sleep now," he said, softly. "You have had a long, difficult day. We will begin practicing tomorrow."
Christine nodded. "Goodnight." She quickly made her way to the bedroom before he could call to her again, shutting the door tightly behind her. The warm bed seemed to beckon her toward it. Without another thought, Christine laid down fully dressed atop the plush comforter, falling asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.
It was only a couple hours later when she awoke to a pounding headache and Erik's indiscernible voice outside of her bedroom. Placing a cool hand to her throbbing temple, she squinted in the darkness and listened. Outside of the driver, she had never heard Erik converse with anyone. As the migraine became worse, Christine slowly got up from the bed and opened her door, letting a triangle of light into her dark bedroom. Erik's voice became louder, almost angry at some points.
She emerged to see him in the sitting room, standing upright with the phone to his ear and his masked face toward the wall. His other hand was clenched into a tight fist.
"I do not know where they are!" Christine barely heard him say. At least, she thought she did. Her head was aching so terribly that everything seemed garbled. As her curiosity got the better of her, she made her way closer. His voice was quiet for a moment, followed by another sudden outburst. "Nothing will stand in the way of our happiness!" Her eyes widened at the vehement phrase.
Erik immediately sensed her presence and turned. She froze, wondering if he would be angry at her eavesdropping. Instead, the anger in his glowing eyes lessened and his hand unclenched. He removed the phone from his ear and looked at her curiously.
"I..." She stuttered for a moment. Her pounding head gave her an excuse. "I have a headache. Can I have some aspirin?"
He tilted his head. "Of course, Christine. You can have anything you wish for. It's in the kitchen cabinet on your right. Would you like me to show you?"
"No," she softly replied. "I'll find it. Thank you."
"Would you like a cool compress?"
"No. I'll be fine. Goodnight, Erik."
He watched her until she had left the room. Christine was far out of hearing range by the time Erik resumed his quiet conversation. As she took the white pill with a glass of water, questions raced through her mind. Who was Erik talking to? Why was he so angry? She realized that Erik had some kind of past. He wasn't a random man who had kidnaped her off the streets. There was more to him, even outside of his obvious musical genius. It frightened and intrigued her.
The room was quiet as she headed back to bed and shut her door. Erik had retreated into his own chambers, and Christine even thought she heard the piano softly playing from behind the thin walls. She lay back down on the bed for a moment, before quickly deciding that sleep wasn't coming back so easily.
Christine stared around the dim room and allowed the memories of the day to return to her. She hadn't even tried to attain freedom, almost feeling relief when the black car had driven up to the doors of the hospital. At the same time, the bedroom was dark, warm, and eerily peaceful-a stark contrast to the cold and loneliness outside. She felt oddly safe and protected there.
But she had to find some way to escape, didn't she? She couldn't stay like this forever, a prisoner.
Her mind drifted to Raoul, and Christine cringed in regret. He had been one of her last connections to the outside world. Now, he would be going thousands of miles away, thinking that she hated him. Once he was gone and Mrs. Valerius had passed on, she would have no one...but Erik.
A feeling of panic raced through her. She had to contact Raoul again, at least to make him understand that she didn't hate him. While she didn't want to put her friend in danger, Christine didn't want him to disappear from her life, either. Maybe, if Erik let her out again, she could mail Raoul a letter. Hadn't there been a post office box down the street?
Slowly, Christine dug out a pen and a piece of florally decorated stationary from one of the dresser drawers. She stared at the blank sheet for several seconds before starting to write. Only a dim lamp lit the room, but she didn't want Erik to know that she was awake. God forbid he discover what she was doing.
Dear Raoul,
First, I wanted to say I'm sorry for what I last said to you. I promise that I didn't mean it. You have to understand that things are very difficult right now. I can't explain everything here.
Christine stopped writing and stared down at the letter with dismay. Her words sounded as confused as she felt. Feeling her head continue to pound, she left her room to get another aspirin.
Expecting Erik to still be in his room, she casually padded back into the lighted kitchen. Entering, she found him quickly adjusting the mask back onto his face. A plate of food sat in front of him, likely leftovers from the day before. She blinked in surprise, nearly stepping backward. "I needed another aspirin."
"Are you hungry?" he enquired, motioning toward the kitchen. "You did not eat dinner." He started to rise from his seat, his yellow eyes never leaving her.
"No!" she quickly stated, knowing she was interrupting his meal. "I'm going back to bed. I'm exhausted."
Erik nodded, continuing to closely watch her. "If you're sure."
"I'm fine. Just tired." Christine took the capsule with a glass of water, nodded her goodnight, and returned to bed. As she headed back into her room, she realized that she had never seen Erik eat. He ate after she went to bed, so that...so that she would not have to see his face.
Reentering her room, she saw that the letter to Raoul still rested atop her sheets. With a sigh, she tucked the unfinished note far into the back of a drawer and placed the pen on a night stand. Laying back down, Christine stared up toward the ceiling. Her headache slowly started to fade, leaving her to her thoughts.
It was three hours later when she finally went back to sleep.