Lots of drama in this one!
Thank you to all of the reviewers/ readers!
Phanty belongs to Leroux and Lloyd Weber
Erik looked down at his hands. The hands of a murderer? Perhaps... But he was not a murderer when he started. It was his time with these people that had turned him into what he was. He knew that now. His life had been an avalanche; a slow but certain decline towards madness. The past few days had been a mere reprieve from that; nothing more. This was where he belonged. This was where he belonged for his actions and for what he had surely done to Christine. For all he had been through; all his personal triumphs, he was back where he started. Were the gods mocking him? Was he never meant to leave these chains? Never meant to find happiness? He turned his head in the darkness towards the narrow strip of light peeking through the stone walls. His eyes narrowed, it was bright... but it looked as though the sun was setting. How long had he been sitting here, contemplating his sins? It must have been hours. It was getting darker and he was getting colder.
He cursed his manacles as he realized that he could not put his hands in his pockets to warm them. Upon attempting this, he felt a presence in his pocket once more... the letter.
Did he dare read it?
Slowly, he pulled the piece of paper out of his left pocket. Yes, this would break the trust between Christine and himself but she might not even be...
He felt despair rising in his chest once more; heavy and thick at the thought of a world without Christine. Tears stung his eyes.
No, she couldn't be. She could not be gone...
But if she was... he had to know the truth. He had to read it while he still had the opportunity. He looked towards the setting sun once more and suddenly the need became dire. Soon, he would have no light at all... and who knew what would happen during the night?
...Or the next day?
Hastily unfolding the letter, he raised it up into the fast depleting stream of light.
Dear Raoul
I don't really know where to start... So much has happened and I haven't had the opportunity to think on any of it as of yet... But I needed to write to you. To let you know that I am alright; that for now, we are safe.
Erik is outside seeing to Caesar; the horse you brought for us. Please do not worry. He is a gentleman in every respect of the word and has treated me with nothing but honor. You do not need to worry for my safety in his presence, of that I am sure.
I feel terrible about how I left things. I never properly explained anything to you and that is because I, myself am not sure where I stand. I left to see Erik because I needed to know that he was safe. At least, that was how it began. Since then, I haven't had opportunity to properly acknowledge how I feel about everything that has happened. I am happy here, with Erik. But rest assured I appreciate everything you have done for me, everything you have sacrificed. You must know how much I still care about you and that I love...
What?
Erik's eyes narrowed as the last word. He blinked several times in disbelief, reading it and re-reading it in order to properly comprehend why she had used such a word in a letter to Raoul. He dropped the letter; it fell into the darkness and he could not help but wish to follow it.
...I love...
That word, which she had taken so long to say to him, fell so easily from her lips when it was directed at another man. The letter was unfinished... He thought back to when she had written it. She must have stopped when she heard him re-enter the house. It didn't matter though; there was only one word that could possibly follow such a phrase. He held his head in his hands and began to laugh cynically. How could he have been so foolish? To think that she could honestly love someone like him... surely, he had done it. He had truly gone insane; taken the final step. All this time, all of it... each waking hour she had wished to be back with Raoul. How had she suffered him for so long? Oh, but she was an actress... quite a good one.
Perhaps she was alive. Perhaps she was with Raoul and that was all that mattered because things were finally as they were meant to be. Everyone was back in their proper place... including him.
But surely, everything he had felt, everything she had said, the look in her eyes after each kiss they had shared... it could not all have been farce? It had seemed so real...
But most dreams did.
Most dreams seemed quite real until you woke up.
And he had woken up just as he knew he would. It was too good to be true. He should have trusted his instincts all along. He looked down at his chains once more. What had she done? What had she done to him? She had changed him... caused him to feel. And now that she was gone, what was left? Emptiness. The sun was setting. Soon he would be alone; alone with his thoughts, with nothing but the darkness around him. Tears of frustration began to well up in his eyes. He couldn't go back to his life before her... not after he had experienced so much. He needed to feel. He needed to experience feeling again even if that feeling was pain.
Once more he heard the rattle of keys followed by footsteps on the stairs of the cellar. Emile came into sight once more, followed by a few of his men.
"How are we doing, down here?" He asked; his voice echoed in the small space. "It is a bit dark but no matter, we will be moving on soon enough. I'm sure you know that much from memory though eh?"
"I'm glad I killed your father." Erik stated abruptly, ignoring his question and looking up at him through misplaced strands of brown hair, almost black in the darkness. Emile's eyes widened.
"What did you just say?"
Erik stood up and moved towards Emile, only halting when the chains prevented him from walking further.
"I think on it all the time; the last words he said to me. Those final sounds escaping his lips as I drained the life out of him." Erik was taking great pleasure in provoking the man before him. He knew that there would be repercussions. He was asking for them. He needed to feel pain so that he knew he was alive. So that he was reminded of his real life; his life without Christine.
"Who do you think you are?" Emile spluttered, walking closer to Erik.
"Oh, I know exactly who I am." He glanced down at the letter he had carelessly discarded on the floor. "...I always have." He looked to Emile once more. "... How does it feel to know that I was the last one to see him alive? Me... Your monster."
Sure enough, Emile sprung towards Erik, infuriated. He grabbed him by the shirt but before he could speak or take further action, Erik had swiftly wrapped his chains around Emile's neck.
Several of his men jumped to his assistance but Erik's grip was unwavering, as was the look in his eyes. Four men could not stop Erik. Emile was clawing at his throat, clawing at the chain that was threatening to end his life but he could not free himself. Finally, a crack to Erik's injured side forced him to let go. He stepped back, holding his ribs, a satisfied grin on his face, his eyes wide. He had known that he would not be able to kill Emile; not now. But he no longer cared of the repercussions; he no longer cared what became of him because even if Christine was alive, she did not love him. He was no better off than he had been upon starting this farcical life. He looked at Emile, coughing on the other side of the room. There was comfort in the familiarity of the feeling; another man's life in his hands... it was something he had not yearned for at all during his time with Christine.
But perhaps it was something he had missed...
"Restrain him!" Emile croaked, holding his throat and staggering away.
One of the men threw a punch into Erik's body and forced him up against the wall, his hand wrapped around his throat. Erik simply looked at the man before him; a manic grin painted on his face.
"Chain him properly!" Emile yelled. "Can't you oafs do anything right?"
Erik said nothing as he was chained to the wall once more; now standing up with his arms spread apart so that he could do no further damage.
"That's better." Emile said as he walked closer. "More like the old days, wouldn't you say?"
Erik cringed, his sanity slightly returning to him and with it, his memories and fear.
"I am well enough, Raoul. I promise you. I am well enough for this." Christine sat down in Raoul's sitting room; frustrated. He had promised her that they would leave in the afternoon. The sun had almost set. Every minute that passed was a minute wasted.
"I worry about you, Christine. Am I to willingly accompany you to your death? How can you expect that of me?"
"You told me that you would help me..."
"And I will." He sighed and walked to the far wall, resting his arm on the mantelpiece there and staring pensively at the clock upon it. "I suppose that we should go now. Are you sure that you cannot wait until tomorrow?"
"No! I have already waited longer than I should have. Erik would have come for me the moment he knew of my danger. It could already be too late..." She looked down, tears building up in her eyes.
"What exactly are you going to do, Christine? Have you thought about that?"
"No! I haven't! I just have to see him..."
Even if it's the last chance I will ever have.
"Can we go? Please?" Christine walked up to Raoul and took his hands in hers. "Please... grant me this one last favor?"
He sighed. Had she any idea what she was asking of him? What it took to do such a thing? Every second in her presence was intoxicating and knowing that he was not willingly with him was heartbreaking. But what could he do? Deny her request? No... He would do anything if it meant her happiness. He had told her that and he had meant it.
"Alright. Let's leave."
As they exited the carriage at their destination, Christine was filled with a sense of foreboding. What she was doing was surely insane. Supposedly, she had just come from this place and she was willingly returning to it.
"...And this is where I was?" She asked, looking up at Raoul who had already walked to the door decidedly.
"Yes, Christine." His blue eyes; so contrite. She had put him through so much... "Are you sure about this? This is your last chance..."
"I am sure." She said, walking up to stand beside him.
He knocked on the door...
Within a few seconds it was opened ever so slightly and a few inches of a face could be seen through the gap.
"What do you want?" A gruff voice asked them.
"I..."
"We want to speak to Emile." Christine spoke up.
The eyes narrowed.
"How do you know Emile..."
Another voice sounded from behind the door.
"Who is it, Henri?"
"Some couple asking about Emile." He shot back, never taking his eyes from the people before him. Footsteps sounded from behind the door before it was opened a few more inches and the face behind it was replaced with a new one; recognition painted across it.
"You're back." He said. Christine did not recognize this man. He had not been present at the time of their capture, or if he had, she had not seen him.
"You... how do you know who I am?" She asked. "Who are you?"
"You should leave. Why have you come back?" He looked to Raoul. "Why didn't you just stay away?"
"Where is Emile?" Christine repeated, her resolve; unwavering.
"Why do you want to see Emile?" He sighed. "You should have stayed away..."
"Where is he?"
"Emile is... busy."
Busy? Christine held Raoul's arm for support. What was he busy doing? She feared the worst... and began to conjure up images similar to what she had seen and heard back underneath the Opera.
"Well, we can wait." She said. Raoul looked down at her, utterly perplexed by her notion.
A voice sounded from behind the door; the voice of the first man they had seen.
"Who is it, Claude?"
Claude sighed, ignoring his friend.
"Alright, fine. Come inside." He opened the door to reveal a well lit room. There were six or seven men sitting around a table in the center of it; each of them staring in stupefaction at the two people who had entered. "I'll... make sure that Emile is aware of your presence." Claude closed the door behind them and disappeared around one of the corners in the small house.
Immediately, Christine recognized several of the men in the room.
"You're back." One of them said, smiling. Christine did not answer. She cast her eyes down. She wanted to hurt them all for what they had done but there were too many of them and the only one who seemed reasonable had left the room.
"Couldn't stay away from us." Another jeered. Raoul stood in front of Christine, sensing her unease.
Claude couldn't have returned soon enough. Christine soon heard the sound of keys and two sets of footsteps before he came into view. He was followed by Emile.
"Christine!" He said, his arms open in preparation for an embrace. His voice was welcoming but she did not feel welcome. Not at all. Christine stepped back.
How did he know her name?
"Oh, not so friendly." He feigned disappointment, dropping his arms. "I have heard so much about you..." He walked to the table in the center of the room and lit a cigarette. "Oh! I do apologize for your head. We hadn't planned for it but you were being quite difficult."
As he exhaled, smoke began to fill the room. Christine hated it. She hated him.
"But let us not waste time on pleasantries. Tell me, why have you returned?"
"I want to know where Erik is." She said calmly.
"Erik? Why... he is in my basement as we speak."
"He is?! He is alive?" A small wave of relief washed over her.
"Yes. I've just been to see him, in fact." He looked down at his knuckles and flexed his hand.
Christine cringed visibly at the image. She took a deep breath before speaking.
"I... We have come because..."
"You have come because you wish to free him." Emile said before taking another drag of his cigarette. Christine stared at him. How could he speak of it so matter-of-factly when she had spent so many anguished hours thinking on it?
"...Yes..." She said. Yes. That was it...
"Well... I am sorry, but if that is all you came for, I must insist that you leave. I will not free him." He gestured to one of his men who began to usher Raoul and Christine toward the door.
"No! Wait!" She began hastily. "Why? Why can't you free him?" Tears began to gather in her eyes as she spoke. Emile sighed and sat down on one of the vacant chairs.
"I will not free him because he is mine."
"Yours? He does not belong to anyone! You have no right!" She said. She attempted to walk toward Emile only to be held in place by Raoul.
"He owes me a very large debt... Christine. Therefore, he belongs to me." Christine stared at the man before her. She felt as though hatred was emanating from her very skin and she wondered if Emile could see it. This man had harmed Erik. He had captured them both and he would have killed them without a second thought. Now, he had the nerve to speak about Erik... her Erik as if he were property?
"We have money..." Raoul spoke up.
"Yes. You have already offered me money, my good sir. He is worth more than that."
Christine looked down.
Yes... He is.
What had she been expecting? For this fiend of a man to simply release Erik as if it was nothing to him? She was beginning to feel a great sense of hopelessness. There had to be a way, didn't there?
"There has to be some amount, please!" She begged.
"I am sorry, my dear." He feigned concern. "I would like to help you. But... I simply cannot." Again, he gestured to one of his men to escort his visitors to the door.
"Wait! Please! Let me see him!"
Emile raised an eyebrow.
"Let me see him, at least! If nothing else!" She had to talk to him. He would have a plan. He would have to. And if not...
She didn't want to think about it.
"See him?" Emile questioned.
"Yes... please. It may be the last chance I have." Perhaps Emile would allow it. Perhaps he would pity her...
"Well... I suppose that it... cannot hurt." He stared in the direction from which he came; the cellar.
"Please..." Christine repeated. Emile smiled.
"Yes. Alright." He stubbed out his cigarette and stood up. "You may say your goodbyes. Follow me."
Christine exhaled. At least she would be allowed to see him, to speak to him. She would be able to explain herself. She could tell him that she loved him, even if it was to be the last time he would ever hear the words.
"Thank you." She said. She looked at Claude and nodded in gratitude. He gave her a guarded smile.
"Your friend must stay up here." Emile shot back at Christine as she followed him to the cellar door. She turned back.
"I will be back Raoul." She said.
"But... Christine..."
"It is fine." She said, silencing him. That was the only condition given to her. She would allow it. She would allow it or she would not see Erik.
He stared at her; contrition and regret enveloping him once more. Again, he was letting her go. Again, he was letting her go to him. If Erik was saved, Christine would be elated. If he wasn't... she would never be the same. He knew. Christine would never truly be his.
Emile unlocked the cellar door and held it open for Christine. With great trepidation, she stepped inside. She was aware of the risks, Emile could easily trap them both in the cellar and with Raoul outside and outnumbered, there wasn't much that could be done. Raoul had money and carried favor with the Police but what good was either of those things here? Emile stepped in behind her and locked the door once more.
"Don't be afraid." He whispered. His proximity made her skin crawl. "It isn't you that I want." No, Raoul had already paid that ransom... but what was the price of Erik's life?
Slowly, she made her way down the stairs in the darkness with Emile walking closely behind her.
And then, she saw him.
