"I never knew you were so good with the ladies, Erik!" Said the figure.
"Daroga!" Erik exclaimed. "What are you trying to do? Give me a heart attack!"
The Persian smiled at Erik. He had Ebony colored skin and two jade eyes, which stood out effectively. In contrast to his skin he wore a long white coat, which came down to his knees when he stood up.
"You need to have a heart before you have an attack, dear friend." Said Daroga, coldly.
Erik glared at him. "What's that supposed to mean, Daroga!"
Daroga gave Erik a piercing look. "Why, the death of Monsieur Bouquet, you showed no remorse."
"I had my reasons." Erik replied coldly. "What exactly did you hear?"
"Everything, You seemed scared when you realised she had a sword behind her. She is very brave to oppose you, but fancy you 'The Phantom of the Opera', being afraid of a mere child." He said mockingly.
"What kind of greeting is this then?" Erik spat. "I find you sitting on my bed without invitation and listening in to private matters."
"Well, you could have been a little more polite." He said with a note of sarcasm in his voice.
Damn him, he can be so infuriating at times when he remains this calm!
Erik gritted his teeth, Daroga was still smiling. Finally Erik gave in and sighed deeply.
"It's good to see you again my friend. I trust you have been keeping well. To what do I owe this pleasure? Have you been away?" Erik held out his handas a friendly gesture, which Daroga shook in return.
"Oh yes I have, I have been travelling, but as I have come to Paris for a few days. I thought I would stop by to see you. If that is alright with you?" He asked.
"Yes, Yes of course, come to the kitchen. I'll fix up something to eat."
He loves my chicken soup. I'll make some of that and then I'll go and check on Christine"I see Miss Daae is sleeping rather heavily. May I go and check on her for you?" He said as if he read Erik's mind. Usually it was the other way round.
"If you must, but don't wake her up. Your soup may be some time before its ready, but you're welcome to read in the library until then. I will come and join you while I leave the soup to boil."
With that Daroga made his way to the room where Christine lay. He walked up to the bed and looked down at her. All he could hear was the sound of her gentle breathing, and he examined her more closely.
She has been chloroformed. It seems he used quite a lot in order to sedate her for this amount of time. It is clear that she was shocked by the death of Monsieur Bouquet from the way that she shouted at Erik.
He looked around and took a small bottle from the inside of his coat, removed the top and waved it under her nose. Her head moved from side to side and her eyes slowly opened. She groaned.
"Hush dear child, you need your rest." He said, concern laced in his voice.
"Who… Who are you? Where's Erik?" she whispered in a tiny voice.
"Don't worry. He is here. My name is Daroga and I'm a great friend of Erik's. I will leave you for now. Please stay in bed. You will feel very light headed should you stand up."
She didn't attempt to make any more movements and closed her eyes.
The Persian pocketed the small bottle, and headed out of her room towards the library, to find Erik already there, sitting in an armchair with a book neatly balanced on one knee.
"Please Daroga, help yourself to a book. The soup will be ready in about half an hour." He whispered without looking up.
Daroga sat down in a chair opposite him, and looked at Erik curiously, although the Phantom did not meet his gaze.
"You've trained her well Erik." He said plainly.
"You saw one of her performances did you?"
"Yes the recent one, Il Muto. She will go far with a voice like hers, no doubt."
"You didn't wake her up did you with one of your foul smelling things?"
"Chloroform is just as bad."
"You did wake her, didn't you?" Erik hissed, his eyes left the book and met with the P
persian's dark jade ones.
"No, I did not." He lied. "Surely you know when I'm lying and when I'm telling the truth."
Erik looked back down to his book. Porsche had just come in and curled up by Erik's feet.
Just unfortunately I can't tell this time. I suppose I should trust him for now. It isn't like Daroga to lie.
His friend then got up and headed over to the nearest bookshelf from where he removed a blue covered book, sat back down in front of Erik and began to read.
-
Christine's eyes opened once more. Her vision was certainly a lot clearer than it had been when she opened her eyes before. Whatever Erik had drugged her with had finally worn off.
She slid out off the bed and carefully walked out of the door. She could neither see nor hear anyone.
Where is he! I could kill him! But who was that man who woke me, Daroga? A friend of Erik's? That's odd he never mentioned him before. She thought curiously.
"Erik!" she called.
No response.
"Erik!" She called louder. "Where are you!"
She looked around wide-eyed. What if he had left her? What if she was trapped here alone? She ran to where the boat was kept and saw to her relief that it was still there. He hadn't gone anywhere, so where was he?
"ERIK!"
Her voice rang though the entire catacomb. This time Erik did hear it for she heard him call her name.
"Christine?"
She whirled round to face him. He was right behind her now. He was looking at her simply.
"I did hear you the first time. Are you feeling better?"
Christine marched up to him, and started to pound on his chest. She started screaming at him at the top of her voice. She was confused, upset and angry.
"WHY DID YOU KILL HIM? WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME! YOU PROMISED ME, PROMISED ME THAT YOU WOULDN'T HURT ANYONE! WHY ERIK, WHY? TELL ME WHY!"
Sobs racked her poor body. She was shaking violently.
Erik reached for her wrists, gently restrained them and placed her hands down by her side.
"Please Christine, come and sit in the library. We will talk later, but right now we have a guest."
"That fellow in the white overcoat." She realised.
"Did he wake you? With one of his smelling salts?"
"I – I'm not sure. But I don't feel well."
"It's nothing that my chicken soup won't cure. Would you care for some?"
She nodded gratefully and followed him timidly to the library. She thought it would be best to ask questions later. He obviously didn't want their matters to be discussed whilst in the presence of a visitor.
Christine didn't know that he had a library. When she walked into the room what a sight met her eyes. This had to be a very big room. Bigger than the ones that she had seen before. Except the hall by the lake, if you could call that a room.
This room had thousands of shelves. On which stood what looked like millions and millions of books which were all stacked very neatly. There was a little fireplace opposite the door, and in the middle were a few deep, red arm chairs which looked very comfortable. One was occupied to the man she had seen before. The one she recognised to be Daroga, who smiled and stood up to greet her.
"Ah Mademoiselle, I'm very pleased to see that you're awake. I apologise for my very brief introduction before. As you know my name is Daroga, but commonly known by reputation as the Persian."
"I'm very honoured to meet you Monsieur." She replied making a small curtsey.
She turned round to see if Erik was there but he had disappeared. She sighed and went to sit down on the nearest seat.
Daroga chuckled. "He will be back with his fantastic chicken soup that he is making. You can probably smell it?"
Christine smiled. "Oh yes, it smells like heaven. He really is a great cook. As well as great with his music, don't you agree?"
"Why yes, oh, and before I forget, congratulations on your performance yesterday. I very much enjoyed it."
"Thank you, I'm very glad you did."
At that moment Erik entered carrying a silver tray on which were two bowls of chicken soup, a small basket with cut French bread and two silver spoons with a single knife for the butter. He placed the tray on the floor before getting a small table to put the bowls and the basket of bread on.
"Here you are. Please tuck in. I hope you enjoy it." He said proudly, before picking up the tray and heading toward the door.
"My dear friend, won't you dine with us?"
"No, I'm afraid not Daroga. I'm not very hungry and I have work to do."
His Don Juan, I bet. Christine thought.
"But please, do enjoy your meal, and feel free to do as you wish. If you need me, I shall be composing at the piano. Porsche come! Sorry but I don't want her sharing your chicken soup. She will have her own later."
With that, he walked out of the room with Porsche, leaving Christine and the Persian in the library and headed to the Piano to compose more of his Don Juan, which Christine had already guessed.
"So, how do you and Erik know each other?" Christine asked the Persian.
"Oh, we go way back." He said, in a very casual tone. "I've known Erik since he was very young."
Christine thought for a moment. She had never heard Erik, or anybody else for that matter, talk about his childhood.
"I remember it well." Continued Daroga, "The market was just closing for the night, and a very cold night it was too…" He paused, while both he and Christine took a spoonful of soup. "…so, the market stall was closing down and Erik stole some food and a few pieces of scrap metal…"
"Scrap metal?" Christine interjected.
"He's an architect, so scrap metal to us is a world of opportunity to him." He took another spoonful of soup. "So anyway, I saw him steal everything, which as you can imagine, didn't go down too well with Erik."
I'll bet. Thought Christine.
"But luckily, he had no Punjab lasso with him that night and so he thought that he would try and scare me off by removing his mask." He put particular emphasis on the last three words. "I bet you can imagine the shock he got when I didn't move. To be honest, I pitied him."
Another long pause followed these words, during which, Daroga drained the last of his soup from his bowl.
"Ever since then Erik and I have been good friends, and I visit him here whenever possible. I must say that it is remarkable how much this place has changed over the years…"
"Why was Erik ever here in the first place?" Christine asked curiously.
Daroga looked puzzled at this. "What… you mean he hasn't told you?"
"Told me what?" Said Christine.
The Persian paused for a second. "Erm... Actually, it's not my place to say."
"But if you don't, Erik may not ever."
"Really my dear I have told you too much." Daroga said whilst his eyes scanned the room.
"And that he has…" Came Erik's voice from nowhere.
How does he do that? He can throw his voice into a room without him being present.
"You have bitten off more than you can chew Daroga." The Phantom continued.
"Erik, my dear friend I am very sorry, I presumed that Mademoiselle Daae knew everything…"
"Well, don't presume!" Erik snapped.
Christine chirped in to stop the argument from escalating. "Erik, please, I wanted to know about you. It wasn't Daroga's fault."
"Christine, please go to your room. I will call you when I want you." Erik said icily.
"But I haven't…"
"Go to your room NOW!" Erik spat.
"…Finished my soup." She finished in a mournful voice.
With that Christine marched out of the room leaving Erik talking to the Persian. She shut the door and stood outside to listen to the conversation.
"Erik, I'm ever so sorry, I thought she knew." He said, pleading for forgiveness.
"No she doesn't."
"I know that now, I didn't think. She gave no indication that she was unaware of your past."
"I didn't want her to know, because I fear her reaction. I don't want to lose her Daroga. I…" Erik suddenly trailed off.
"You what?"
"It appears that the term 'even walls have ears' would be the correct one to use at this precise moment. I know that you're listening, Christine."
"I will be in my bedroom. I'm sorry." She whispered.
With that she went into the room where the swan shaped bed lay. She perched on the end of it, letting her thoughts gather.
What is with Erik and his change of moods? And what does he think will happen if I know his past? I would like to know. Even if it was bad then maybe I can understand why he is like he is. But why did he cut off his sentence? Oh I just don't know what is going on.
-
"You love her don't you?" Daroga stated. "That is what it is. Am I right?"
"Yes, it is true. She's the only one I have ever felt this way about. But I can't have her know that. It's not the right time. We haven't known each other long enough."
"I'm sure she would understand, and as she doesn't know about your past, well what happened at the circus and all."
Daroga cut off his sentence as Erik shot him a nasty look.
"Please don't remind me of what happened. I hate it. My past has shaped me into the beast I am now." He said quickly, a trace of fear laced in his voice.
"Maybe she will understand why you killed Bouquet. That's if you tell her." Daroga said cautiously.
"We will see, but where would I start? There is so much. I don't know whether she would be able to cope. I had a perfectly good reason for delivering that drunk the consequences of taking advantage of a young girl like Christine!" Erik sobbed with hatred.
"But maybe delivering the consequences shed you in a darker light to her." Daroga said quietly.
"What do you think I should do Daroga?" Erik pleaded with the Persian.
"Whatever feels right to you." He replied wisely. "I will leave you for now, but I will return, perhaps in the next few days as I'm staying in Paris a little longer."
"Then I look forward to your return visit and thank you, Daroga." Erik's voice lightened.
"The pleasure was all mine. Thank you for your hospitality and I apologise again, for any trouble I may have caused." Daroga extended his hand.
"Think nothing of it." Erik replied, and clasped The Persians outstretched hand. "You know the way out."
"The same way I came in." He smiled, before heading off in the direction of the lake.
-
Christine waited patiently on the bed, hoping they would be done talking soon.
She stood up as she heard quiet footsteps approach the door, then a knock.
"Erik?" she asked.
"Yes, it's me my dear. May I come in? There are things I need to talk with you about." He said softly with a nervous trace in his voice.
Christine opened the door and revealed Erik on the other side. He didn't look quite the same as usual. It was as if, for the first time, he was very nervous and this time it showed.
"What things? Does it concern your past? Look, I'm sorry about the conversation I had with Daroga. I wanted to understand, and he thought I knew. It wasn't his fault." She said quickly.
"I know. I lost my temper and I'm sorry. I don't like discussing my past but I feel now is the time you knew about the events. Maybe you will understand why I am the way that I am." He whispered softly.
He held out his arm and gestured towards the bed. She went and perched on the end, and patted the space next to her. He walked over swiftly and sat down beside Christine.
"I will explain things gradually. If there is anything you don't wish to know about then please just tell me and I will stop."
Christine nodded and watched him closely. She knew that he was searching for a place to begin.
Erik paused, and cleared his throat.
"I was born with this deformity but my mother couldn't bear to look at me, and this mask… it was my first unfeeling scrap of clothing which I have had ever since she gave it to me, in a bid to look at me without seeing this." He indicated to his mask.
He swallowed hard. "She was afraid of me. She couldn't bear to touch me or hug me. It had been like that for years, but when I turned 8 years of age, that's when my nightmare of a life began."
