I finally came out of my room on what I assumed was the next morning. Even though my surrounding were still strange to me, I walked around them in a causal manner, most likely brought along by my sense of defeat.

Erik was in the sitting room, curled up in an arm chair with a book. It looked strange this masterful man with his long limbs hanging awkwardly over the arms of the chairs. He straighten up as soon as he heard the sound of my door close. He met me at the stairs, his arms clasped behind his back.

"Would you like some breakfast?"he asked as I descended the last step. The empty pain in my stomach was hard to ignore and my mouth felt dry.

"Yes please." I answered. He gestured with his arm to for me to move forward. He had returned to his stiff formality of our first few encounters. We made our way behind the partition that separated the main sitting room. I sat a simple table in Erik's make shift kitchen.

"I apologize for the food, mademoiselle." he explained setting before me a plate of sliced fruit and bread. "Even in the best of circumstances, I am not great cook. The food in my home is simple to say the least."

I noticed he did not have a plate for himself.

"Have you already eaten?" I asked

He sighed. All night my ears had been full of the sound of his sighs. It pained me to hear them. "No I confess I do not eat much. Only out of necessity."

I ate my food in silence, as Erik watched. Glancing around I saw the kitchen was a sparse place indeed. There were no cupboards or cabinets, just simple crates stacked against the wall. After I finished I waited for him.

"There is no need for you to stay in your room Christine. Everything here is at your disposal." He informed me. "If you wish to avoid me, you need only ask." He sounded pitiful. His sighs, his tone of voice and his manners diminished my anger towards him. I did not hate him. Changed as he might be in my eyes, he was still my teacher. I was upset with him, but not enough to send him away.

I let him give me a tour of his home. I saw few doors covered in shadows but he did not tell me what lay beyond them and we did not pass through them. Instead of proper rooms, he had carved out closets and holes in the foundation to place his belongings. One side of the room, below mind was a wall of pane glass, covered with various curtains. Upon closer expectation, I saw that it was a mirror and I thought this was a curious piece of décor. Erik offered no explanation why it was there.

He showed off his small library with a great deal of pride. "Do you like to read, Christine? I confess my library is mostly filled with music, but I have other books that might suite your tastes."

"I like very much to read."

He pulled some books from the shelf and presented them to me. I saw works of Plato, Aristotle and Ovid as many of the other classics.

"Do you have any Tacitus?" I inquired. Then seeing a look of puzzlement in his eyes ,I smiled at him. "Does that surprise you that I ask for that."

"A little." He admitted. "I thought young ladies were more taken with romance and poetry when it came to books. Alas I do not own any works of Tacitus."

"I do enjoy poetry." I said choosing a volume of Ovid. "But I've always been more interested in history. I have read the Annuals before. My godfather made his best effort to give me a proper education, not only in music and the classics."

"I see. Do you live with your god parents? I assume they are the guardians you often speak of."

I moved over to the sitting area. "No, only my godmother, Mamma Valerius But I feel like a child calling her that. My father was good friends of the late Professor Valerius who we lived with. Both of them died a few years ago, and now it is just me and Madame." I explained.

"And the other?"

I knew who he was referring to without asking. "Yes…"

He moved towards me, still keeping a respectful distance as I took a seat on the chaise. "I'm sorry this subject doesn't sit well with you. I can tell. I won't speak of it."

"Thank you." I opened the book, not exactly eager to start reading, but grateful for any distraction. My eyes only glossed over the pages of books for my mind was far away. Thinking of the outside. Was it raining or was it pleasant and sunny? What was Genny doing? I was concerned if she would tell anyone. Surely she would have run to the police by now, seeing that I had not returned from that night we were chased. I wondered if anyone believed her and if they did would they try and find me. Could they find me?

Then noticed like in the kitchen, Erik did not join me and in my activity but stood to my side watching me.

"Do you not wish to read?"

"No. I'm afraid I do not have the attention to devote to a book right now." He offered.

"Well then I am I keeping you from something?"

"No, I wish to stay here with you…" he stated. "If you will allow me…"

I put down my book. "You are content just to watch me?" I asked aloud

"I would find it a great pleasure if you permitted me to…unless…."

I felt my hands shake at this line of questioning. My teacher who had been so composed with words and actions now stumbled. He who possessed many talents seem content to wait at my side like a dog.

"Shall I play for you instead, Christine?" he offered.

"If you wish."

He turned to take a seat at the piano.

"I was wondering….do you play the violin maestro?" I ventured

"Well enough." He said humbly "Would you rather hear the violin?

I nodded excitingly, ignoring the book in my lap. He left and returned from one of his closet with a violin. I watched in awe as he tuned a few strings then brought down his bow, making the instrument sing with effortless ease. He was more than "well enough" he was a genius with the bow as much as he was with the keys of the piano. I forgot my desperate situation and my strange surrounding as I focused on him playing.

My heart sank when he stopped. I stood and went to his side, his eyes never leaving me as I walked. "May I see it?" I asked

He handed me the instrument and I noticed now as his fingers brushed past mine a new sensation. I held onto them, feeling the hard callus tips of his fingers against my skin. The hands of a violinist…just like my father.

"Was your father a musician?" Erik asked.

I was startled at first but I finally answered. "Yes, a great one."

"You are his daughter, so I have no doubt of his talents"

I clutched the violin to my chest. "He was a violinist. When I was younger I begged him to teach me to play, but I did not have the hands for it. Not hands…like yours."

At that statement he withdrew his hand from mind and turned his back to me. A few moments of silence pasted between us and I wonder if my comments had offended him.

"Christine…" he said softly. "If you would allow me, I would only play you pleasant melodies. I would play until my fingers bled if it would make you happy…and if you would sing for me…"

Defeated, I placed the violin down on the table.

"No. Not now…" I sighed.

The next days passed without much incident between us. Christine would dress and join me downstairs. She ate the simple meals I prepared for her and spent most of the day reading. Sometime she would sketch on paper I provided for her. Other time she would simple lie on one of the chaises, staring up until she feel asleep.

I played for her whenever she requested. Sometimes on the violin and then on the piano. She wept at the beauty of my music, but she did not smile because of it. And she did not sing. I resigned myself to be happy with this result. I had expected no less than her hatred of me and was surprised so far that she sought out my company.

Early one morning I left my home, leaving a note to inform Christine of my absence. I locked the doors inside of my house, but without telling her, I left the main door to the outside unlocked. It was a test. I left bits of paper between the cracks of the door, so when opened they would scatter. It was up to Christine whether she chose the perils of the opera cellars instead of my devoted companionship.

Upon returning and seeing that the doors remained as I had left them, I was overjoyed. I saw Christine as soon as I enter, sitting on the beach of my organ. Going to her side I saw in her eyes that same blank stare that now frequented her countenance. Christine's eyes had been so alive with curiosity before and I caught myself gazing at them frequently throughout our music lessons. Now they appeared glassy and soulless. I displayed the packages in my arms.

"Christine I have brought you presents. Chocolates and delicate pastries, so that you have something enjoyable to eat.'"She regarded them without any emotion. "Of course I know these are but trifles to you , so I brought you something else." I added laying a tissue wrapped package in her lap. She opened it and reviewed the cover on the book.

"It's Tacticus. I bought it just for you Christine." I explained. "Do you like it?"

"Yes…" she answered in a hallow tone.

I sighed and turned my back. I sat on the bench at her side, facing away. The other packages were gripped tightening in my arms. I wanted to squeeze hard and smash them. "Christine, are you happy here with me?"

She was silent but finally answered. "I have no choice but to be. I can try to be happy or allow myself to be miserable."

"What would make you happy?" I asked.

"To have everything be as it was. I want to see my friends again. To be in surroundings that are familiar to me."

"I would much rather you stayed here. There are people up there who would hurt and abuse you. I know how cruel people can be." I knew more than what she told me. I could sense that the man she lived with made her uncomfortable and lusted after her. Why else would she willing stay so late at the opera to have lessons instead of returning home from a hard days work. "I only wanted to protect you…" I told her, placing my hand against the wood bench. "And how you must hate me for it."

I was surprised to feel a graceful touch over my hand and the shape of Christine's fingers over mind.

"I do not hate you Erik." Her voice sounded very sincere. I pivoted and face her, the smallest hint of a smile on her face. I observed her hand on mine. Her fingers were so small they appeared child sized in comparison to mine. I turned my palm and cupped her fingers.

"May I?" I asked for I had promised not to touch her without her consent. She nodded and I brought her hand up to my lips. I brushed her skin against my mouth before pressing gently down for a brief moment. She had let me kiss her…

"Then will you sing for me, Christine." I begged.

She turned to look at the organ. "What is Don Juan Triumphant?"

I frowned at her question. For the past few months, my world had been consumed with nothing but Christine. I had watched her every movement from the cat walks and spent my days rehearsing music for our lessons until every note was memorized. I had felt real joy for the first time in my life at thEN. So I could not return to work on my opera. My angry passion that had been my inspiration had fled from me and I could not bring myself to write another note.

"It is my opera…" I said simply. "I have worked on it for years. Some time I compose for days on end, without food or sleep…"

"It is not finished?" she stated.

"No and perhaps it never will be." I answered.

"Will you play some for me?"

I cursed myself for not hiding my manuscript so Christine could not see it. I grabbed it off the organ and clutched it against my chest.

"No Christine. I cannot. I will play you anything you like, but not my Don Juan." I protested.

She looked at me disappointed. "But why not?"

"It would cause you too much pain." I said.

She did not seemed satisfied by my explanation. She looked at mE thoughtfully then said "If you play your opera…I will sing it with you."

Seized by a rage within me, I threw the music out of my hands, watching the pages scatter over the floor. I leaped from the bench, her hand still in mine. Bringing my face close, I hissed at her. "Enough! You refuse your voice and I will refuse my music. This music is not for you! It represents everything unholy and is against everything that you stand for Christine. I will not play for you!"

Her blank look was replaced by one of fright and I realized that I held her hand in a terrible grip. And I had promised I would not hurt her. I released her and moved away, now frighten at what I had done.

"Please Christine, I would give you my life if you asked for it. But there are things I cannot and will not do for you." I pleaded. "You are a creature that needs to be surrounded by beauty…beautiful music. My Don Juan burns Christine, and yet he is not struck by the fires of heaven." I withdrew my gaze and starred at my feet and my fallen music. I expected her to flee from the room, repulsed by my temper and my cruel words.

Yet she stayed. She even dropped to her knees and started to pick up the music. I let her for a moment before going to her side to stop her. When she looked at me, her eyes were full of tears. She timidly handed the paper to me, afraid of me.

A wail escaped my lips and I pressed my head to the floor in shame. My fingers dared to touch the hem of her dress.

"Christine…" I moaned. "Forgive me…Forgive your poor Erik…forgive me for being the monster that I am." This beautiful woman that I loved was still afraid of me. I had brought her here hoping she would grow to love me. If I had only known her feeling towards me before, I might have left her to the world above. Where she could be happy. Her tears had the power to undo me and I loathed myself for making her shed a single drop.

Her shaking hands touched my head and in a moment of fear, I brought my hands to my face, to keep my mask in place. But I did not look at her.

"Erik…" she started her voice quivering like her unsteady hands. "Erik…I will sing for you. If it will make you happy."

Ashamed of the state I was in, I hurried to my feet then lifted Christine up to stand. I reached up a hand to wipe away a tear that clung to her red cheek and she let me touch her without drawing back.

"I do not deserve such kindness from you, Christine. You will sing again, but not now." My hand moved from her face to her hair, letting a few precious strands slip between my fingers. "I have upset you. Go and lie down for a while."

She nodded at my instructions and walked away. I started to collect my music off the floor when her voice called to me.

"Erik…"

I turned my head to see her waiting, halfway up the stairs. Even with her tear stained face, she was a vision. All that was beautiful and good personified, and she tolerated me instead of turning me away.

"Will you play for me?" she asked.

Her hand was stretched outward, beckoning me to her. I reached for my violin that I had left in one of the chairs and swiftly went to her side like an eager child. We walked together but as she entered her room, I remained back.

"No, you may come in." she said.

"I dare not." I whispered.

"Then how will you music send me to sleep?" she asked. I could tell by the change in her voice that my music excited her. Even as she had walked around my home in her dismal state, the mention of music changed her attitude. For this I was glad. Glad that despite what I had done, I had not destroyed her love of music.

She sank onto the bed, wrapping her arms around a pillow.

I had wanted a wife. I had wanted Christine to love, her body and her soul. I did not just want a shell of her, a distance being who starred at my with blank eyes. I wanted her angel's voice to fill my ears, not to have her repeat hallow notes at my request. I wanted Christine. I wanted all of her.

Restraining myself as I starred at her, I kept my distance between her and the bed, tuning the strings. "Any requests?"

She murmured into the pillow, her eyes half shut "Beethoven.."

I smiled "As you wish."

I wasn't even through with the first movement of the piece before I noticed Christine had drifted off to sleep. With light steps, I moved closer to the bed still playing and still watching.

Her face was framed in pillows and bed linens of snow white, making the dark features of her face stand out. Her tears had gone and the red sticky cheeks were now a lovely shade of peach. Her lips without the aid of any cosmetics were a shade of deep rose and I watched them move ever so slightly with each breath. My song came to an end as I drew the bow out, extending the last notes.

My fingers longed to leave the strings and weave themselves through her golden hair. Inwardly I told myself this was madness. But now that I had been given permission to enter my lady's sanctuary , I could not leave.

And so the monster played while the angel slept.

I ran into another dark wall. One of the endless numbers that passed before me. Some I walked right through as if I were a ghost, others pounded into my flesh hard and painful. Yet I kept running.

The shade came closer to me. I felt my feet move at an inhuman pace and yet the shade was always right behind me. I could not tell where I was. It was not the opera or any part I had seen. Perhaps it was the cellars. The forbid passages that awaited me beyond the locked doors of Erik's house.

Desperate for help I cried out, but no words came. I was mute and I ran. Another wall appeared out of nowhere and I fell against it hard. My bones broke in my arms and my whole side went numb as I crumbled onto the floor. Now my voice returned and I let out a wail of pain.

The shade was standing over me. I waited for his attack but instead he knelt down and stared at me, breathing hard. Beneath his hood I could not see his eyes. As he moved closer, I reached my hand into the hood and found my fingers around a hard cold object. I withdrew Erik's mask and stared at it in my hand.

Then my ears were filled with laughter. Horrible laughter. I pressed my hands against my head to block out the sound. The shade removed his hood and I looked at him face to face.

Frederich's eyes starred back at me, his face contorted with his vicious laughter.

I screamed.

I bolted upright in my bed. My face was covered in sweat yet I felt chilled to my core, and I was still screaming. My fingers touched the sheets wrapped around me and I finally woke. My eyes darted, trying to find were he went, but they found Erik instead. He stood right beside my bed, the eyes under the mask wide with shock as he looked at me.

"Erik…" I gasped. I raise myself to my knees so I could reach his face. My hands placed themselves on the side of his face and he in turn rested his hands over mine. "Erik, Erik it is you?"

"Christine."

Then I lost myself, and my body leaned forward into his. Sobs racked my throat and the cloth of his shirt became wet with my tears. I clutched at his arm and chest, but he did not return my embrace until I asked him.

"Please…hold me." I begged.

At that I was seized tight, almost to the point that my limbs felt pain in the places Erik gripped them. But I did not care. I felt so good. After a moment he positioned me in his arms, one wrapped around my shoulder and the other under my leg. He pulled himself into a sitting position on the bed and held me like a child. I cried until I was hoarse, too wrapped up in my fear of the dream to care about my embarrassing state. He did not protest and let me cry as long as I needed to. My breath came from me uneven and wild, but I could hear his breath close to me ear in a slow steady pace. My fear started to fade and my crying stopped.

Long fingers wrapped over the top of my head, hesitantly stroking my hair. "It was a dream? Wasn't it?" he asked,

"It was a nightmare." I replied. "This is a dream…"

"Are you so sure that you are still asleep?" I could now hear his heartbeat as my other ear pressed against his rib cage. I nodded. I sat in his arms and even through my fear and anxiety, I felt happier than I had been in years. Staying with Erik would mean surrendering my freedom in return for my safety. Even though Erik's behavior sometime frightened me, I knew in my heart that he would never to things to hurt me. Not in the way Frederich had. He respected me, even though we both knew he had the strength to over power me if he choose.

I knew not if I rested in the arms of an angel or a madman, and I did not care.

He sighed and the warmth of his breath grazed my ear.

"Then if this is a dream,Christine, I wish never to wake up."