That Face in the Mask

Chapter Eighteen: Betrayal and Trust


A/N: Okay, please review and tell me what you thought about this chap. Constructive critisim is welcome! Tell me if anyone was too OOC, the dialogue was too modern, spelling/grammer errors, e.t.c.

Disclaimer: The Phantom of the Opera is there, inside my mind, so technically I own it, because it's MY mind! Yeah, I know that was the worst disclimer ever, just read the story already...


Erik stormed down to the rocky coast in a furious, blazing rush. He was going to find Meg and her little lover boy if it killed him, even if the perilous task had already led him to hell and back. Besides rushing down the busy Parisian streets in broad daylight, he had already stormed into the Opus Majestique, scaring the poor stable boy out of his wits when he demanded to know where Meg was. The boy squeaked out something about Mlle. Giry signing in briefly, only to leave immediately afterwards, and after nearly harassing a stagehand, discovered she'd run down to the coast. So, that explained why the distinguished Phantom of the Opera was now stumbling and cursing his way down the rocky cliffs.

Finally, he spotted Meg, in her flowing white gown, kneeling over something and sobbing. He jumped the last few feet down the shore, shouting her name

"Meg! Meg, goddamn it!" he screamed

She turned around, frightened and startled, tears pouring down her red, flushed face.

"What is it Erik?"

"You know damn well what Meg Giry! How could you do this? After everything I've done for you, everything I've given you, how could you betray me like this!"

"Erik what are you talking about?" she cried

"Meg, you meant so much to me. I thought at last I'd finally found someone that loved me as I loved you, and trusted you, and then you had to betray me like this! It's unbelievable!" he ranted breathlessly

"Erik, I don't know what you're so angry about, but please, calm down. Can't you see there's something horridly wrong already!"

Ignoring her cries, he angrily thrust the letter from his breast pocket out towards her. Her blood turned cold when she recognized Cedric's familiar script, and Erik saw her gasping for breath as her eyes frantically scanned the letter.

She couldn't believe this. It couldn't be. How could Erik think she could do something like this to him? Didn't he know her better than that? Didn't he trust her?

And Cedric, well, that really didn't matter now.

Erik watched her curiously as she stood up.

"Erik, I have no idea where you found this, and why you presumed to read my letter in the first place, but I didn't accept! I turned him down! I could never marry someone like him! Erik, how could you believe I would actually do this to you? Don't you know how much I love you?"

"Yes, you loved me enough to stab me in the back like any other woman I've ever loved. And every one of them have betrayed me, but I never expected you to!

" I betrayed you? Erik, how could you do this to me? I knew you hated Cedric, but I never thought you would go this far" she cried, her voice breaking

A wave of cold horror washed over him when Erik realized what Meg was so upset about. She moved aside, revealing the worst sight he could have ever imagined. On the misty, warm sands of the coast, right by the crashing surf, lay Cedric's dead body. His scarlet blood drenched the soft, golden sand his rested upon. Erik felt his own breath grow faint and rapid as he realized the cause of Cedric's death. Around his neck was an infamous Punjab lasso, the red, strained marks on the boy's neck obviously suggested someone else had strangled him. And Meg knew that someone had to be Erik, her worries becoming more certain as she witnessed his outburst of rage towards Cedric's love letter.

Erik could feel his own voice breaking with disbelief

"Meg, you don't- you can't think I did this to him?"

She stared at him, an ice cold rage in her eyes beneath the tears

"Then who did it Erik? Who?" she asked, letting the question hang over the both of them

Erik couldn't believe this. He didn't do it! True, he had occasionally thought about it when he'd enviously watched them together, but he would never actually kill Cedric. He didn't kill him.

But how could he explain it to Meg?

"Meg, you have to believe me, I didn't kill him-"

"Didn't kill him? You actually have the gall to stand here and lie to my face? Erik, you stormed down here ranting and raving about his stupid letter. There's a Punjab lasso around his neck that someone used to strangle him with after he asked for my hand and you expect me to believe that you didn't do it? You had every reason to be furious with him, and of course you couldn't just ask me about it, or settle it like gentlemen, you just had to kill him!" she screamed

He took a deep breath, trying to control his fury

"Meg, I know it sounds extremely unlikely, but you must believe me. I would never kill him!"

"And I suppose that you would never kill Buquet either. Or Piangi. Or attempt to kill the Vicomte when he fought you for Christine" she said in a cruel, hard tone.

Erik could feel his blood boiling. All the odds were against him and he knew Meg wasn't going to believe him. But it was too horrible to imagine. True, he'd killed men before, in his past, but that was behind him. It wasn't know. And how the hell had she found out about what happened after Don Juan in his lair between him, Christine and the Vicomte?

"Meg, I swear to you, I did not kill him. I love you far too much to do anything that horrible to you. I didn't do it! Meg" he said, hurriedly grasping her shoulders tightly" I know there's so much proof, but, Meg, you have to believe me! I didn't kill him!"

She glanced up at his pleading face, desperate to convince her. It wouldn't work. She couldn't believe he would stoop this low. How much of a fool did he take her for? Did he think she was just some naive little girl, with no idea about reality, and she would just blindly believe whatever he told her? Just like Christine?

She cleared her throat, glaring up at him

"Erik, I'm no fool, and I'm not some naive girl. I can't believe you. I don't believe you, because I know you're lying. And I won't believe you. I'm not Christine"

Her last sentence hit him like a punch in the stomach, and she still continued in a cool, even tone

" You and I both know that you've never gotten over her. You've never moved on. You still want her, you still love her, and you're trying to make me replace her, and I can never do that. She would believe anything you told her, every time you lied to her.

There's a man I once thought I loved, dead, before my eyes, who was murdered with a weapon only you possess, and you tell me you didn't kill him. Erik, you're a damn genius, for God's sake! What do you think I'm going to believe? You act out of spite, and rage, and harm anyone that stands in the way of what you want. You take innocent lives because they stand in your way and never care about the consequences. You killed one of my best friends, Erik, because he might have taken me away from you. I may not love him, but I still liked him. And now, I've never get the chance to be with him again. Because of you." she finished, her voice breaking

Erik let go of her shoulders gently. It was no use. She didn't trust him any more. She'd never believe him, even if he was telling the truth

"Meg, I-"

"No, don't start, Erik, don't start. I've been under your spell long enough. This was the last straw, and I'm amazed how long I actually believed you'd changed for me, because you loved me. You never changed. You're still the same psychotic, moody, arrogant bastard you always were. And I was foolish enough to believe you really loved me, when all this time, you're still in love with your little whore, Christine"

That was it. Erik couldn't take this from her any longer. Before he knew what he was doing, he felt a surge of rage coursing through his body. Like a flash, his hand shot up from his side, connecting with Meg's soft face in a sharp, hard slap. She felt the instant, biting pain on her face where his hand had collided with her skin, and knew that she would always feel that pain long after his outburst.

He lowered his hand, not believing what he had done.

"Meg, I'm so sorry. I can't- I never meant to"

She put her hand over his mouth to silence him

"Save it, Erik. Don't waste any more lies or apologies on me. I don't want to hear them"

"Meg, I never meant to-"

"Of course you never meant to. But you still did it. And now, you and I will both have to live with the consequences for the rest of our lives. I hope you're pleased with what you've done, Erik."

"Please, Meg, don't-"

"Stop it, Erik. I really don't want to continue meeting like this. Never again.

Goodbye, Erik"

He felt so many mixed emotions swarm into his body at once as he disbelievingly listened to her parting words and watched her stride away. He tried to make himself respond, but he couldn't.

Meg turned around sharply as he ran after, grabbing her wrist tightly.

"Meg, would you just listen to me? Give me a chance to explain? You know that I would-"

"Pardon the interruption, Monsieur Phantom, but you had better leave here quickly, before the police find the murderer at the scene of his crime and have more evidence to incriminate you. They'll be arriving shortly."

He glared at her

'How do you-?"

"I notified them" she said curtly, taking advantage of the distraction to swiftly pull her wrist from his grasp.

He stared at her, not believing how she had betrayed him in so many ways

She shrugged

"I had to do it."

He heard her call over her shoulder as she trudged back up the cliff

"Although, you may want to remove the bloodied gold from underneath his body. It once held such value for me, but it doesn't any longer. But who can say?"

She paused and stole a brief moment to turn back and glance at him

"Maybe it is worth something to you"

Erik turned, looking at the body, puzzled by her cryptic statement.

Bloodied gold? What the hell is she talking about?

It was only until he knelt down and reached underneath the body did he understand. Folded neatly under Cedric's head was the beautiful, golden fringed shawl that had once belonged to Erik's mother. He had given it to Meg that night, so long ago, when she'd ran to him for the comfort and strength she was seeking. He had given her that, along with the last remaining possession on his mother's, watching the golden material twirl and flutter gracefully when draped on her petite frame. The shawl was soaked and splattered with patches of dark, red blood on the light, thin material. He understood Meg must have taken this from her dressing area before leaving the Opus, and had laid it gently under Cedric's body, a gesture he could only take for respect and love to him in his final hour, and her thoughts of Erik.

Erik had never really held much respect for the dead before, but a strong sense of strange grief overwhelmed him. He laid the shawl over Cedric's horror stricken face, ripping off a small corner piece as a bitter keepsake of this awful moment, which he stuffed in his pocket, close to his heart, before vanishing just as the policemen came running down onto the beach.