Well, I hope no one minds that this isn't the last chapter. There will be one more after this, along with an epilogue. Either this chapter was going to get ridiculously long, or it was going to feel rushed, so I decided to break things up. On the positive side, I could have left you with a terrible cliffie but decided not to. Enjoy :)
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As soon as Nadir Khan opened his eyes, he felt a torrent of pain crash down upon his skull. The pavement was frigid beneath his cheek and hands, and a warm, wet substance trickled down the side of his face. He could only assume that it was crimson-colored. Groaning as he lifted his aching head off the ground, Nadir glanced around in the dark to see if any of his attackers remained. Looking backward, he saw a body lying motionlessly upon the asphalt. He shook his head, thankful that he still had good aim.
But where was the other man? For that matter, where was anyone? A shiver ran through him as he thought of Ms. Daae's and Mr. Chagny's possible fates.
In the distance, he could still see the long black car parked in front of a decrepit apartment complex. Sitting up, Nadir allowed a brief wave of nausea to pass, his head still continuing to pound from the attack. Scrapes and bruises lined his arms and hands from where he had fallen.
He again glanced around to find the other assailant, finally spotting the man standing several yards away from the black car. Erik had likely instructed him to keep watch. At the moment, his attacker had a relaxed posture, now putting out a cigarette and adjusting the handkerchief back over his face. As silently as possible, Nadir sat up and hid behind his car, extremely grateful that the man had assumed him to be dead. He sighed in relief as he saw that his gun had slid under the vehicle, before quickly retrieving the weapon and readying it for use. After all he had been through, it would take more than a head wound to put him six feet underground.
Grasping onto the gun, the Iranian stood up and stepped into the shadows, before quietly moving toward the black car. At least you have taught me something about surprise attacks, Erik. Nadir still felt disoriented from the injury, his vision blurring and spinning before coming into focus. He would need medical attention soon.
At the same time, a determination accompanied him as he moved forward. The Iranian was dead set on ending this tonight, no matter what fate he met. No more destruction and chaos would come from the hands of one man. Perhaps the damage had already been done, for Christine and Mr. Chagny could already be dead. After tonight, though, it would all be over. Tonight, Nadir was determined to atone for his fatal mistake of over a decade ago.
Gathering all that was left of his energy and courage, Nadir stepped out of the shadows and grabbed the man around the shoulders with one arm. With his other hand, he dug the gun into his skull. The man let out a shocked grunt and began squirming in an attempt to fight back, freezing as he realized that a deadly weapon was aimed directly into his head.
"Now," whispered Nadir, slightly out of breath from the short struggle. "Tell me where they are. Where is the girl? Where are they?" The man remained silent, panting heavily. Frustrated, the Iranian dug the gun in harder and continued. "If you don't tell me where they are, I will shoot. Do you understand?"
Finally, the man slowly spoke. He was younger than Nadir had thought. "They're down that stairwell...right over there." The man pointed. "I think he killed the guy, at least hurt 'em. I don't know. I'm just keeping watch."
"You swear this to me?" Nadir asked through gritted teeth.
"Yeah! I swear! Jesus. Just don't tell him I told you...He'll rip me apart. I'm gonna get outta here soon. I swear. This place is insane!"
"Maybe you should be more careful of whom you work for," Nadir bluntly stated, before whacking him over the head with his gun. The man grunted and fell unconsciously to the ground. After checking his dark surroundings one last time and seeing nothing, the Iranian slowly approached the concrete steps, looking down into the void below. He hesitated for several moments.
Was he sealing his doom by going down alone? Was now the right moment to call the police? Nadir sighed. No. There was likely little time left, and he had no idea as to what street he was on or what the address of this hellish place was. It would end up a mess, possibly with more deaths than needed. Frankly, he should have listened to Mr. Chagny and called earlier. The boy had been right. He had been protecting Erik the entire time, indirectly contributing to this catastrophe.
But it would end tonight.
Taking a breath, Nadir descended down the cracked steps and into the darkness, clutching the concrete sides for support. When he finally arrived at the bottom, already noticing a drop in temperature, he at first believed himself to be surrounded by three solid walls. Squinting, though, Nadir could see that there was a door on his left, painted almost the color of the gray concrete. Finding the knob to be strangely unlocked, he again hesitated. What if there were some kind of trap awaiting him on the other side? Brushing away his fears, he slowly opened the door and peeked inside.
All was quiet and still, with only a single dim lamp lighting the room. Stepping through the door, he found himself in a sitting area. Immediately, he knew that the home was without a doubt Erik's. Nadir recognized some of the figurines on the shelves from Iran, noticing the oddly-shaped furniture and black sofas. The room was luxurious yet eerie. Drawing his eyes away from the decorations, he looked around for some sign of life. The silence of the home made him uneasy, and a shiver traveled up and down his spine. What had occurred in those twenty or so minutes?
Gripping the gun tightly and always on the lookout for a surprise attack, he finally noticed that a light was on in a nearby room. The door was slightly ajar. Nadir approached and grabbed the silver knob, before slowly opening it.
He stopped dead in his tracks and stared forward in shock.
Erik stood alone in the middle of the room with his back facing the door. His bony hands were folded behind his narrow back, and his gaze was forward. He did not acknowledge Nadir's presence in any way.
Once he had recovered, Nadir took a quick glance around the room, noticing the jewelry, female hair accessories, and florally decorated objects. A blonde-headed doll sat on one shelf, and several skirts and blouses were strewn upon the floor. It was obviously where Christine had stayed. But where was she now? Continuing to hold the gun up, he was finally able to get himself to speak. "Erik."
A short period of silence followed, in which Nadir could feel his muscles tense in apprehension.
"You are still alive," came a toneless reply.
"I am," Nadir answered through gritted teeth. "By some miracle, I survived your onslaught. Now where are they, Erik? What have you done with them?"
Erik slowly turned around, showing no reaction to the weapon being pointed at him. His yellow eyes were strange and distant, really like Nadir had never seen them before. Erik's gaze fell upon the head injury. "You really should find a hospital."
Nadir glared and kept his finger over the trigger. "No more mind games. No more delays. Now where are they? Are they even alive?"
Another silence passed. Erik looked away, staring at some of the objects in the room. "I would suppose they are," he finally replied. "Yes. I am sure they are fine. She is a very capable girl. A wonderful girl..."
"Stop this!" Nadir shouted, feeling his head swim with pain. It occurred to him that he was beginning to lose a bit of his own sanity. "I will not let you go this time. Do you understand? There will be no more destruction caused by you, no more death and suffering. Mr. Piane? Ms. Daae? Mr. Chagny? Where are they!?"
"Piane?" Erik distantly questioned. "Piane was using her marvelous talent to gain access to me. And the authorities were using him! No one would allow us peace! No one would allow me..." Erik stopped his rant and quickly regained his composure, the fury fading from his eyes. "It is of no concern. Piane will bother no one now, especially not her. No one will bother her. He is gone."
"Dead, you mean? You killed him?"
Erik waved a disinterested hand in the air. "Simply gone, Nadir."
Nadir let out a growl of frustration. "Damn it, Erik! Be direct with me! Where is the girl? Do one decent thing in your life and tell me!"
The eyes glowed. "She has left by now, I imagine. With him. And she will be happy, Nadir..." He folded his hands together as though in prayer. "She will be happy."
The Iranian ignored the emotions welling up inside of him, not knowing what to think now. "Erik," he choked slightly. "This has to end tonight. It must. I had hopes that..." He sighed. "It does not matter what I thought. I am begging you to tell me exactly what you did with them."
Erik slowly nodded. "Yes, it must end, mustn't it? Are the police on their way? I will not be a spectacle on television, rotting away in a prison for decades. Or perhaps you chose to grant me my dignity and not call? Ah...it does not matter, I suppose. It will end either way before they arrive."
Nadir's eyes narrowed in distrust. "Why are you giving in so easily, Erik? Is this another mind game?"
"No," he whispered, clenching his hands. "No more games, Nadir."
"Then, why?"
"Because..." Erik hoarsely began. "I will never have another day like today. There is nothing left after today. It was my finale. Should you not shoot, I doubt I will go on much further." Nadir thought he heard the remnants of a sob beneath the black mask. "I love her..."
"Where is she?" Nadir asked, his tone softer.
Erik gestured toward the door. "The car-she took it to somewhere safe...She will be safe with him, I am sure. Yes, she must be." He momentarily placed his masked face into his hand, rubbing his temples with his fingers, before looking back up with renewed calmness. "Now, my friend. Let us not draw this out for hours."
Nadir clenched his jaw. "You are lying! The car is still out there! I passed it on my way down!"
"You hallucinate, my friend. As I said, you need medical attention. Or else..." Erik looked toward the door longingly before quickly glancing away. "No, it does not matter. Now end this, if you intend to do so. After all these years, you still manage to test my patience. It rather is a miracle that you are still alive."
The Iranian could feel his hands shaking and becoming moist with perspiration. He swallowed. "Why couldn't you change, Erik? Why? Why so much destruction? I let you live so that you could change!"
Erik sadly chuckled. "So correct your mistake, my friend. Give us both peace on this night."
Nadir blinked, realizing that this truly wasn't a game. He could see it in the fading glow of the yellow eyes. Something significant had happened in those last minutes...something to put Erik in severe emotional distress. "First tell me what you have done with her. The car is still there."
"I did not harm her!" Erik rasped. "She is free, Nadir. Do you hear me? The angel is free!" He clenched his fists. "Now do as you must but ask me no more questions. End it, if you will. Or I will end it myself!"
"Why must you always be on my conscience?" His hand trembled with the gun. "I release you, and I'm guilty of the chaos you cause. I kill you, and your blood is on my hands." He let out a frustrated sigh, still unable to push down on the trigger.
"Then you truly cannot win," replied Erik, taking a slow step forward.
"No. You're right. I suppose I cannot."
"As I have said repeatedly, there is nothing left for me. I will never have another day like today. I will never be touched again, nor will I ever see her. I will wander this earth for the rest of my life with only a memory." Erik reached out a clawed hand. "End it, Nadir," he choked out. "I will die soon, anyway. I...cannot breathe. I...need her."
Nadir stepped backward, feeling moisture gather in his eyes. "Stop it, Erik. Just..." He grappled for the gun as Erik continued his approach, wondering if he was going to survive these next few moments. "Please, Erik! Step away!"
"Now is your chance, Nadir. To end it. To free us both..."
As Erik came dangerously closer, darkly looming above him, Nadir closed his eyes. Out of pure self-defense, he raised the gun and readied it. "Allah help me," he whispered, as his finger came down over the trigger. He then fired, sending the single shot reverberating throughout the home.
Breathing heavily, he kept his eyes closed. He didn't want to know what lay before him. The silence in the room began to confirm what he thought to be true. Wasn't it what he had intended, though? To end this tonight? Yes...Yes...It was supposed to be this way...There was no other way for it to end...No other way... Still, a feeling of nausea again passed over him.
No vindication or satisfaction would come from the act.
Minutes Earlier...
Christine continued to stare down for several moments, blinking in slight shock and wiping away stray tears. She allowed the sheet to float to the floor tiles. Maybe she should have been disturbed, but she found that the sight was sadly humorous. And even somewhat beautiful. This is what she had run from on that fateful day?
There was no body underneath the white sheet...no death or great horror.
Beneath the white sheet lay Erik's hopes. His ideal reality. For both of them.
Most of the bulk had consisted of a custom-made white wedding dress, closely fitted around the torso of a dressmaker's doll. It was the kind seen in the store windows of the most expensive department stores in New York City-the sort of dress women stared at for hours, all the while knowing that they would never wear it. The puffy gown was formed with layers upon layers of silks and satins. The waist and hem were dotted with sparkling sequins, and a long, lace veil lay to the side. The dress couldn't have cost less than five thousand dollars. Christine knew without a doubt that it would fit her perfectly.
There was also a small velvet box next to the ensemble. She didn't even have to open it to know what jewel was inside. The one that currently lay on her finger, the onyx stone, that had been an engagement ring of sorts. Inside of the blue velvet box was the wedding ring.
It was what sat beside the dress, though, that had momentarily frightened her. For a second, she truly believed herself to be staring at some sort of corpse. Then, she had laughed at her fear. Six empty eye sockets gazed at her from atop the counter, staring upwards from three separate masks. They were lined up in a row, molded and painted to look like real male faces...handsome faces...with perfectly formed red lips and fitted noses. The appearances differed here and there. One had a narrower chin. Another had higher cheekbones. Still, all three were ideals of the human visage.
She shakily ran a hand over the material of the masks, surprised at how real they felt beneath her fingertips. It was some kind of synthetic, rubbery substance. There was no doubt that Erik had created them, as the careful attention to every single detail was obvious in each design. Only the unpleasant smell of paint and chemicals gave away that the flesh was an illusion. She briefly wondered how realistic one would look if it were put on.
Had Erik used his own face for the mold? Had he already tried one on, only to stare into a mirror and discover that some small but significant detail was off...that perhaps it would never look real...that perfection was unattainable?
She frowned and drew her hand away, feeling a wave of sorrow and emptiness wash over her. Her gaze trailed back to the elaborate wedding dress, and she lightly touched the lace on the veil. Erik...if you only would have known...With trembling hands, she slowly picked up the adornment and sat it upon her head. It draped over her blonde hair, lightly brushing her cheeks and dusting her shoulders. What in God's name was she doing?
From somewhere in the background, she thought she could hear sounds...voices, even. Slight curiosity tugged at her, along with worry about what was occurring outside. But what was she going to do? Run out there, find Erik, and ask him if everything was all right? No, once she fell back under the gaze of the golden eyes, there would be no going back. He could bear to release her only once, and she would ask no more of him.
Her mind wandered in frantic circles. Was he still out there, waiting for her to leave? Was he already gone? Christine swallowed thickly. It could be so very simple to awaken Raoul and run from this madness. And yet, her feet were fastened to the floor, and her eyes kept staring at that godforsaken wedding dress.
She should force herself to leave...force herself to wake up Raoul...force herself into the safety of the black car. Her gaze drifted back to where her friend lay. If Raoul were awake, he would make the decision for her with no hesitation. He would place a strong arm around her shoulders and lead her out of this chaos. And yet, she was on her own right now. It was her decision.
Or maybe it wasn't.
Perhaps it was the sound of the gunshot, echoing endlessly throughout the little home, that made the decision for her that night. As Christine looked toward the open door with her mouth agape in horror, she felt her stomach twist into a knot. Please tell me he didn't...
Forgetting everything else, she raced toward the exit of the hidden room and back into Erik's chambers. Seeing the bedroom to be disturbingly dark and empty, Christine frantically continued forward and into the dim sitting area. And at that moment, she knew. The decision was made in that instant of panic and adrenaline.
If he were dead or even forever absent from her life, a part of her soul would die. Even one year alive with him on some ethereal corner of the earth would be better than sixty long years without his gaze or his touch. It didn't matter what happened next. She wouldn't run anymore from that which was unknown. There was only this night and this decision. Yes, she would tell him the truth...she would tell him everything...
But what if it were too late?
Fear gripped her as she finally saw that a triangle of light came from her former bedroom. Oh God...he had been in her room...What would she find? Clutching the cold doorknob, she closed her eyes. With one final prayer, Christine flung the door open.
Please tell me he didn't...Please tell me he didn't...
It was a choked sob from behind him that finally forced Nadir to slowly open his eyes.
He momentarily gaped as the room came into focus, not knowing whether he should be relieved or terrified for his life. Erik still stood alive and unharmed in front of him, although he had now backed up to a safer distance. Several feet away, a tiny bullet hole was engraved into the wall, mere inches away from the head of the porcelain doll. "And here I thought I still had good aim," Nadir sickly joked, clutching to a nearby dresser for support. He slowly looked back up to see that Erik's gaze was no longer focused upon him, but rather on the door. The eyes had returned to their bright shade of yellow.
Remembering the soft sob, Nadir cautiously turned around, his expression becoming one of shock. There in the doorway stood a very distraught and tearful Christine, adorned in a dreary black dress and a lacy white wedding veil. "I thought..." she began, her voice shaking. "Oh...Thank God. I thought that..."
Nadir limply lowered the gun to his side and looked back and forth, feeling completely lost in the situation. The poor girl was smiling now, exhausted relief in her pretty blue eyes. Erik was now oblivious to absolutely everything but her.
"Christine," Nadir softly stated, trying to draw her attention and bring control to the situation. "Everything will be fine. Go back out there and wait. It will all be over soon."
She paid him no mind, her glossy gaze focused elsewhere.
Before all sanity completely evaporated from the room, the Iranian dared to step between them.
He could practically feel the golden orbs boring into the middle of his back.