Letting Go

Perpetual fear. That was all Christine de Chagny felt. She was consumed with fear of him--Erik, better known as the Phantom of the Opera. She felt like he was always watching her, waiting for the opportune moment to kidnap her and take her to live with him in the bowels of the Opera Populaire.

Christine knew well enough that it was said that Erik had died--that the mob had captured and killed him that horrible night after Don Juan Triumphant! three years before. She also knew that if the mob had not captured and killed him, he probably had killed himself over his lost love.

"Christine?" Raoul de Chagny called his wife's name, concerned. "Yes?" Christine responded. "I am in the sitting room." Raoul entered and she greeted him with an uncertain smile and a kiss. "How would you like to go see the opera's newest renovations?" Raoul asked. "No!" she cried, starting. "I never want to go there again!"

Raoul put his arms around her protectively. "Shhh…Christine, don't worry then. We don't have to go." She relaxed a little bit and told him quietly, "There are just far too many memories there."

Raoul's valet entered the room. "There is someone to see you, Vicompte." he said. Raoul left the sitting room and headed for the parlor. "Christine," a voice came from behind her. Christine whirled around, eyes wild. She came face to face with none other than Erik. "What is wrong?" he asked.

"You…I…." Christine gasped. "You were told I was caught and killed?" Erik supplied. "You must take me for a fool, Christine! I managed to hide from the world for nearly fifteen years under that opera house. You truly think I cannot escape a few dozen people who know nothing about me save a few fables bouncing around?" Erik half-smiled. "Yes," he reasoned. "You must take me for a fool."

"What do you want, monsieur?" Christine asked coldly. "Christine, I thought we would be familiar enough to use our Christian names." Erik said, looking hurt. "You may call me Madame de Chagny." she said icily. "What do you want?" she asked pointedly.

"I want you to come back to the opera house, if only for a visit." Erik said. Christine turned away from Erik as he touched her shoulder. "No! I'm not going back to the opera house--ever!" she cried. "Please, Christine. It would mean the world to me." Erik told her, putting his hand on her shoulder. "No!" she cried softly, recoiling from his touch. "Now go, before Raoul comes back!"

"Come with me, Christine!" Erik pleaded. "No." Christine said. She looked him right in the eyes as she said this. His yellowish eyes were filled with sadness, but no tears. "Come, Christine! Come with me!" he begged. Christine's eyes were icy, piercing him to his very soul. "Why?" she asked coldly.

"I love you more than life itself." Erik said simply. "If you loved me that much, you would have committed suicide when you lost me to Raoul." Christine pointed out. "I love you, Christine!" Erik whispered fiercely, his eyes filling with tears threatening to spill over. He blinked and they did, running down his perfect cheek and his mask, making lines on the fine leather.

"Don't cry, Erik. It will only ruin your mask." Christine said. "You tell me not to shed tears when you have ripped my heart to shreds twice?" he asked bitterly. "You came to me, not vice versa!" Christine retorted.

Erik grasped her wrist and pulled her toward the servant's entrance. "You will come with me, Christine." Erik said firmly. "And you will learn to love me as I love you."

"Erik!" Christine cried out, her brown eyes seeing double with pain as he grasped her wrist tightly. "You're hurting me!" Erik loosened his grip a little and took a deep breath. Once they were on the back of a waiting horse, galloping away, Erik told her something. "I do love you more than life, Christine." he said. "When you left, I attempted suicide. I jumped from Apollo's lyre on the roof of the opera house."

They slowed down as they came to the city. Erik dismounted and pulled Christine off the horse after him. He smacked it on the rump and it ran, disappearing down the road. "It will go to where I got it from." Erik said mysteriously, signaling for a hansom.

They went to the new opera house, and walked around to a side alley. Erik forced Christine into a trapdoor-like entrance and followed her. "It will be just like old times, Christine." he said, adding, "When I attempted suicide, I had the luck to fall into a large cart hauling hay. Then I rethought it, and decided you were worth pursuing. I've spent the last three years rebuilding my domain. It is now complete, so I came and collected you."

"Collected me? I am your property?" Christine was terrified as a thought hit her. What if they had to repeat that horrible night over again? This wasn't Erik's intent, she thought, because when he let go of her wrist she fled to a nearby door. It had no handle, and did not open when she pushed against it.

"Darling, that door doesn't open for anyone but me, who knows where the secret lever is. No one can see it from the outside; it looks like a dead end tunnel. No one can hear you if you stand at it and scream your head off, either, so I wouldn't suggest ruining your vocal chords." Erik said. "There are other doors, and they all lead somewhere, but do not open for anyone but me."

"Do not call me darling!" Christine said hotly. "I am married--it is Madame de Chagny!" A look of pure hatred crossed his face. "I will never address you as the wife of that boy." he spat the last word out as if it had a bad taste. "Why do you call him 'that boy' when he is five years older than I? Am I a mere 'girl' to you?"

"Of course not, Christine. I simply prefer not to use his name."

"Why not? It won't bite you."

"I loathe him for all the things he has taken from me--you, the years of happiness we could have had together already--and I didn't want--" he stopped abruptly.

"And you didn't want--?" Christine prompted. "I didn't want to kill him." he said, his yellow eyes clouding with regret. "I didn't want him to get in my way, or to be so willing to die for your safety that I--" he couldn't finish. "He was willing to die, Erik, because he loves me."

"He does? Is he still willing, I wonder?" he kicked a nearby lever with his foot and one of the doors opened. Two Middle-Eastern looking men came in. Between them was a bound and gagged Raoul!

"Raoul!" Christine cried. He had little strength left, obviously having taken a beating. Still, he had enough strength to lift his head at the sound of Christine's voice. The men holding him half-carried him to the portcullis.

Erik held Christine at knifepoint and forced her to tie Raoul up as Erik had that night three years before. "Hand me the rope." he instructed when she was finished. Then he had a thought. "No, on second thought," he said, "you will have the honors, Christine." Christine was repulsed.

"I'll die before killing Raoul." she said defiantly. She wrapped her arms around Raoul as best she could and kissed him. Erik snatched the rope from her and gave it a hard yank. Raoul choked, gasping for breath and Christine let go of him.

"Erik, stop!" she screamed. Erik let go of the rope. "Please Erik." she pleaded softly. "Don't do this." Her eyes searched his, hoping, praying for a shred of sympathy or mercy. There was none.

Suddenly, Christine knew what to do, and she would have to make it the most convincing performance of her life. "Erik," she said sweetly, "I just remembered something and I wanted to tell Raoul. Please don't pull the rope."

She went to Raoul and whispered something in his ear. He thrashed against the ropes holding him, not even strong enough to talk. She walked back to Erik, and whispered the same thing in his ear. "You don't want to kill him when he's weak, do you, Erik, after hearing that?" Christine asked coyly. She had just told the worst lie of her entire life. "No," Erik shook his head. "We should let him recover, and then he shall be our servant for a while before we kill him." Christine nodded and untied Raoul. She looked around for the two men, but they had gone without ceremony.

Raoul collapsed into her arms. "Put him over here." Erik motioned to a cage that contained a cot. "It was originally for something else, but this is better." Christine was again repulsed but helped Raoul into the cage and settled him into bed, then retreated from the cage. "You can close the door." she told Erik. Before he closed the door, Erik tied Raoul to the cot. It tore Christine's heart to see Raoul so weak and helpless.

For the next few days, Christine nursed Raoul back to health. As he regained his strength Christine longed to tell him the truth about what she'd said to him, but Erik watched them every second they were together. Soon, Erik deemed Raoul strong enough to work. The first day Raoul was out of bed, Erik revealed a long leather whip. "If you don't do a task quickly enough, you will feel the wrath of this." Raoul nodded. "What first, Erik?" he asked, still not in full health. "You will address me as monsieur!" Erik thundered, and the whip cracked for the first time.

Raoul collapsed under the short rain of blows, but got back up. Erik set him to work instantly. Over the next few weeks, Raoul was Erik's servant, accomplishing tasks quicker and quicker. When he began to do them too quickly, Erik whipped him. This horrific pattern went on for what seemed to Christine and Raoul as forever.

One night, Erik had decided that keeping Raoul as a servant was no longer worth it. He tied Raoul, weak from fresh whippings, to the portcullis. "Christine," Raoul choked out as Erik pulled on the rope slowly, "I--love you." Christine crossed the room to him and they kissed. "I love you, Raoul." she said as she turned to face Erik.

"This has been a nightmare from the moment Raoul left the sitting room that afternoon. I have lived for who knows how long pretending that I hate the man I love so much I would die for him." Christine said. "I have nothing to cut that rope with, Erik," she told him, "I have absolutely nothing. If you truly love me you will let me go free with the man I love."

Erik's resolve to kill Raoul, the man who had made Erik so unhappy, was crumbling quickly. "Please!" she begged Erik. "And know this--I will kill myself tonight if you kill Raoul." That was the final straw. Erik let go of the rope and advanced toward Raoul and Christine. He pushed Christine out of the way from Raoul and undid the ropes holding Raoul. Raoul pitched forward, unable to stand.

Christine helped him over to the side of the portcullis. She heard a slight gagging sound and whirled around to see that Erik had tied himself to the portcullis and was strangling himself. "Erik, no!" Christine screamed. She snatched the rope from his grasp, but he was already gasping for breath--he had damaged something.

She undid the ropes holding him and helped him onto dry land. She cradled his head in her lap, kissing him tenderly. He drew his last breath and died in her arms. She cried over his still form. Raoul made his way over to her and put his hand on her shoulder. He didn't say anything, and Christine was grateful.

They stayed there for a few days, after managing to lift Erik's body into his bed--a coffin --for the last time. Then they regained strength and went back to their estate in the country. Raoul sent two men who collected the coffin and buried in in the cemetery where Christine's father was buried. On the headstone was inscribed the words,

Erik

Lotte's childhood Angel of Music

? - 1877