Once again it was opening night and I was bundled of nerves; for all the wrong reasons.
The plan was set in motion. Raoul and Philippe had made plans to have their carriage ready by the artist's entrance outside the opera. It was ready to depart the moment the curtain fell. Raoul and the Persian would be waiting backstage. Ironically, the Persian would not draw to much attention since he had frequently been seen passing through the shadows around the opera. Raoul, however, would prove more difficult. His face and aristocratic bearings would be a clear distraction to the performers, particularity the young girls of the corps de ballet. Also, I was still fearful that Erik would be watching me not from his box, but backstage as well. I had managed to acquire a set of clothes that the chorus wore in the village sequence in the second act. Raoul donned a red knit cap and grey tunic and cape and tried not to feel ridiculous in his uncomfortable get up.
The only thing left to do was to convince Genny to leave with us, and that task was growing more impossible by the minute. After our argument, Genny had refused to even speak to me. She became completely isolated from the rest of the cast, only interacting during rehearsals and kept herself locked up in her dressing for hours practicing her role. Raoul had kept his distance from me as much as he could in order not to upset her further, and I missed his presence dearly. I needed his support and I was left alone. Even if we managed to escape and everything went according to plan, we would still have to learn how to mend the bonds that had been broken between us.
Raoul had wanted to marry me, but even if we were successful tonight, I still couldn't see it as a possibility. I was a shamed woman and a member of the working class. It wasn't even possible from the start. We would have to live with the knowledge that our love could rip their family apart.
I took a deep breath and finished combing my hair, before tucking it under my boy's cap. Part of me had no desire to sing tonight. I was so unnerved that I barely had any faith in my own voice. However, I knew that this would be the last chance Erik would have to hear me sing. My betrayal was unforgivable, but at least I owned him that one small favor; to sing for him one last time.
The dressing room was dark. I had only lit one of the gas lights and a small candle on the vanity table. The presence of the mirror has disturbed me so much that I partially covered it with one of the left over tablecloths. It resembled a tomb and it was fitting.
A knock interrupted my dismal thought. I opened the door and was greatly surprised to see Genny standing on the other side. She was already dressed in her first costume, a collection of sleeves and drapery in virginal shades of white and cream. Her blond locks cascaded down the back of her dress, pale in the dim light. She was beaming, an honest smile lighting her features. She took my hands in hers and lead herself into the room, her feet skipping as she went.
"It is our night, Christine. Once again, we will triumph." she exclaimed with a sigh. "This night is everything I ever hoped for. Everything I've wanted." She sat down at the vanity table, admiring herself while I watched speechless. "And I suppose I have you to thank for all of this."
I shook my head, not sure what she was playing at. "What do you mean?"
"You inspired me." she explained. "I knew you were destined for greater things even though you lacked the courage to do so. So I prayed to the Angel of Music to guide you. He spoke to me about you and I knew that he would find you. So because you were weak at first, I prayed that you would be made strong, and in turn, you inspired me to be stronger."
Her pleasantries did not affect me, "No, you're grateful to him, not me. I never wanted this for me. I would trade it all and let you have all the stardom you wanted, if things could go back to the way they were before. He is the one who mastermind all this. He's the reason you're singing tonight."
"No, you are. Because you stepped down, remember." She asserted.
"I wasn't given much of a choice. Should I have stayed and made you miserable?" I challenged. "No, I have done everything to try and right the wrong I have done...I have done..." I was struggling to argue with her when her words were ringing true. Yes, Erik was responsible for this terrible calamity but I had been his accomplice. My visible frustration was enough to cause a frown to crease her false cheerful expression.
"I won't leave tonight. Even if you have to drag me away, I will still come back. I belong here." she stated. She used her fingers as a comb to brush through her hair, making each strand ripple and reflect the light as she passed them. Then she turned back to me and took my hands once more.
"We belong here, Christine, together. On this stage. It is our destiny foretold by the Angel of Music, our good genius"
I squeezed her hand and shut my eyes simultaneously. "What makes you so confident that he will continue to favor you over me? You must realize that. He loves me and he is capable of many horrible things for my sake. Are you so confident he will not direct his maliciousness will towards you? The reason I have given myself over to his whims is to keep you, Raoul and everyone in the opera safe. He could destroy us all if I disobeyed him." At the end of my bitter plea, hot tears had already spread all over my face.
I felt fingers reach up to wipe my face that were not my own. I let my eyelids flutter open to see Genny brushing the tears off of my cheeks, her face rendering the saddest of expressions. Her eyes seemed full of remorse and despair, echoing my own. I took in a breath as if it was a taste of relief and hope. She stood up and cupped my chin in her hands.
She gracefully leaned forward and planted her lips on mine. My eyes opened fully and I gave a small jerk, but Genny's hands kept my face still and under her control. She opened her lips slighting and enclosed them longingly over mine several times over before she drew back.
"Then don't." she stated. "You're a good girl, Christine. Things are just the way I've always wanted them." She stroked my cheek with the back of her hand, her lips still lingering over mine. "Stay here. Stay with me, Christine."
My refusal and conviction died away. I stood there too stunned to speak. Genny lowered her head and walked back towards the door and out into the chaotic scene of the crowded wings.
For a moment, I felt like following her, but not to the stage. A mad idea entered my mind and I could picture myself walking out the door, then out of the opera. Down the street running as far and as fast as my feet would carry me. I doubted myself so much that I wanted to abandon our plan all together. I wanted to leave everything and everyone behind. I reached underneath my costume. Once again my breasts had to be bound, which made my heavily padded boy's costume even more uncomfortable.
I withdrew my locket and opened it, the solemn face of my poor dead father looking back at me. He seemed so disappointed. A terrible thought crossed my mind. For the first time ever, I was glad my father was dead. I was glad that we wasn't alive to see what I had become. In my attempt to be strong, I had let myself be lead astray. I tried to be wise, but I was so quickly deceived and now faced with the challenge of trying to make amends, I was cowardly enough to consider forsaking my friends to save myself.
Which would be the worst option? To risk it all to save myself and fail? Or to run away? At least then I would be forced to confront all my faults and failures. I slipped off the locket from around my neck. Erik's gold ring hung next to the portrait clinked nosily against the metal covering. I unlinked the chain and slowly let the ring slide down off the necklace and into my hand.
Another knock sounded at my door. "Places, Mademoiselle Daae!"
I caught the ring in my hand, squeezing it tightly into my palm. I walked over to the mirror and looked at my redden face. As quick as I could dry myself and try to reapply my stage make up to even out my tone, I refasten my necklace, tucking the locket deep inside my shirt and bindings.
No matter what happened after tonight, I knew one life would certainly end up being destroyed. One heart would be broken.
Mine.
I set the ring down on the vanity table, letting my fingers graze its surface one last time.
"Erik, forgive me...and forget me."
Strangely the opera had continued on without incident. The other performers, musicians and even the managers seemed to carry on as it the horrific events of the past months had no effect on them. It was treated as the most splendid of opening nights and as always, the elite of Parisian society had come to witness the spectacle.
With each act that passed without incidence, my anxiety grew. I had no doubt by now that we would have to drag Genny away, kicking and screaming, which would make our escape very noticeable. I couldn't leave her behind. Even though she had transformed into a woman certainly lingering on the brink of insanity, I could not abandon her. Not after she had trusted me.
The third act began. I performed my aria while trying to not let my voice become as shaky as my trembling feet. I made a deliberate effort not to glance up towards box five while I sang and instantly regretted it the moment I left the stage. Erik had been watching my performance and I didn't even acknowledge him. At every curtain call during "Figaro", I had nodded my head in his direction as I took my bows. There would be no curtain call for me tonight. I was leaving him and I couldn't even bother to glance back. I tried desperately to glance out from the wings and up towards the grand tier, but I could only go so far before I would be seen by the audience. I was also garnering annoyed looks from the other singers and M. Mercier in the prompt box. I just wanted assurance that Erik was there.
Genny entered on stage to thunderous applause. Like Carlotta before her, she reveled in the adoration and bowed to the audience before starting to sing. The strings started the phrases that would be the Jewel Song. I watched from the wings as she took the flowers left on the stage and tossed them aside in favor of the jewel case. She was trading our attempt at freedom for one of her own. I spied Raoul also watching from the opposite wing and our glances met across the stage. His expression was blank, not showing any enjoyment or regret.
Genny had glided to her position with flourish and picked up the jewels in the casket. They were garish and gaudy. A large string of pearls and cheap glass cut to resemble gems the size of grapefruits. She brought them to her face, smothering herself in them.
She blinked and I saw for one second the joyous smile she had on her face break. She frowned and her shoulders heaved with a labored breath. She tried to smile once more and face the audience, but I saw that stunned look in her face again. She took a few steps in time with the music, but she slipped. Her dance-like glide was gone and she turned to try and cover her mistake. With her back to the audience, I could see her cough and her fingers, still holding the large strand of pearls, start to tremble. Just in time for the opening note, Genny turned her arms outstretched, forgetting the prop mirror she was supposed to be holding.
She hit the note but the trill was weak. Her smile was fading and on her ascent, her voice was shaking. Something was wrong. This was her moment and I knew that nerves where not playing a factor in this weak performance she was giving now.
Then the lights started to flicker. The theater was filled with a buzzing noise that drowned out Genny's voice. Mummers accompanied the noise which gave way to a loud snap. Genny kept singing but her smile had gone and she was stumbling in step and losing her place in the music. Then a voice that seemed to come from all around us rang out.
"Behold, she is singing to bring the chandelier down!"
The next event happened in a matter of rapid and terrifying seconds. Genny's feet that had been leading her in some possessed crooked dance gave way beneath her. I watch her eyes roll back into her head at the moment her body tilted backward and fell against the floor. Without thinking, I rushed onto the stage to tend to her. A scream came from the audience and it was enough to cause me to pause enough to look upward. I would have echoed that scream but the sound died in my throat as I witness the terror above my head.
The great chandelier plummeted towards the stalls, its lights dying as it made its rapid descent to the floor. I didn't see the crash, but I heard it. Even as every light in the auditorium and on stage was extinguished with one swift blow, even over the screams I heard the terrible sound on shattering glass on wood, metal...and bodies.
I rushed to the spot where Genny had laid in darkness. I fell over my own feet and slid on my knees as I tumbled down, knocking into the hard casket. I reached out and felt the fabric of Genny's dress. Groping, I managed to locate her shoulder and pick her up to where I assumed she was in a sitting position.
"Genny!"
There was no response. Instead I felt her fall from my grip, forcefully. She was being dragged away from me by another person. I called out her name, again and again, reaching forth to try and touch her. I heard the clatter of hard shoes on the wood around us and then I was flung backwards onto the floor. A strong hand and touched my left shoulder and knocked me over as if I weighed no more than a piece of paper. Even in my shock, I had enough sense to let my hands swing backward and break my fall. My head bounced against the floor lightly and I was deafened by the sound of that determined footfall all around me.
"You broke your promise." That same voice...Erik's voice hissed in my ear. I laid there stunned as the steps retreated from me.
"He knew..." I sobbed. "He knew..."
Suddenly, as quickly as they had turned off, the lights came back on. I turned my head to the audience who now were tripping and stumbling in a wild mob. The chandelier lay in pieces, a twisted clump of metal and glass. My head rested next to the casket and I suddenly became aware of a foul stench that surrounded me. I unwilling gasped, letting it fill my mouth and nose. It stung and assaulted my sense with the overpowering smell of chemicals. Crisp and metallic, they invaded my lungs and I pushed myself away from the scent.
A hand reached down and pulled me to my feet. I saw it was Raoul, still wearing his peasant's costume. I was coughing and sputtering as he pulled me to him. I wanted to spit, anything to get the terrible sensation out of my nose and mouth.
"Where's Genny?" Raoul shouted, trying to get my attention over all the chaos surrounding. I looked down at the string of pearls. I picked it up and brought it up to my nose. The same horrible smell assaulted me once again and I threw them across the stage.
"Drugged. The jewels are drugged." I choked out. "Erik has her! He somehow drugged that necklace and it caused her to pass out." I cried.
Raoul was already pulling me off the stage as he spoke. "Hurry. We need to get out of here." he said through gritted teeth. I tugged at the sleeve of his shirt.
"To my dressing room."
We ran through the throng of musicians and ballet rats who scurried to see the catastrophe and flee the stage simultaneously. By some miracle, I saw the Persian out of the corner of my eye. I called out to him and he followed us. Raoul kept my hand in a white knuckled grip as we raced down the corridor. Once we made it inside, Raoul slammed the door behind us and shouted in fury.
"I will kill him!"
I searched my dresser for the one item I had hidden before the performance. The things on the table top had been scattered and the ring was gone. I saw the mirror on the vanity was cracked, no doubt the product of Erik's handiwork. I found what I was looking for wrapped in a handkerchief; the key to the Rue Scribe.
As I stood there clutching it in my hand while my whole world feel apart around me, I wondered what had possessed me to keep it. I was determined to escape Erik, but I had kept the one item that would safety lead me back to him, as if I had secretly hoped to return.
The Persian was trying to talk some sense into Raoul. They were discussing the possibility of entering the cellars through the mirror passages. Raoul's eyes widen as he heard the extraordinary explanation of the secret entrance behind the mirror. My observations then turned towards the Persian. I could see he wore a long coat and as he turned I noticed a glint of metal flash from beneath it. He moved again and I could see protruding from an inside pocket the handle of gun. I pulled a cloak from my wardrobe and headed towards the door.
"This way. I know how to get to the house on the lake. There is a secret passageway on the outside of the building." The Persian looked at me with surprise and curiosity, then nodded in acknowledgement
"Lead the way, Mademoiselle."
They followed me through the hallways which lead out towards the artist's entrance, which now were mostly deserted and dimly lit. Even so, we could still hear the screams from the auditorium haunting our ears as we ran. Once I stepped foot outside, I immediately regretted no changing from the soft slippers of my costume to a sturdy pair of boots. A sting of cold shot through me as I encountered a pile of slush which soaked my foot straight to the skin. We made it undetected through the crowd of people, who had now gathered in the evening to watch the horrified patrons fleeing from the opera. In the distance, I could already hear the sound of a fire bell echoing through the streets.
We came upon the passage door. I still held the key in front of me, but when I reached to find the hidden mechanism, I gave a desperate cry. In the fading street lamps, I could see the brick that had concealed the key hole had been removed and the lock had been mangled. I could see scratches as if someone had beaten it with the brick, but closer inspection lead me to discover it had been melted and twisted. I attempted to press my key into the disfigured key hole, praying it would fit.
The key barely glided into the lock, only a few centimeters before it was blocked. The inside of the mechanisms had been crushed. It was useless. I saw a shadow fall over the corner of my eye and turned to see the Persian examining my progress.
"Erik has destroyed the lock." he stated. "Apparently, he has had more foresight than we have." He reached into his coat and withdrew not one but two pistols. He handed one to Raoul and stalked back towards the entrance. "We shall have to reach his home by a more dangerous road, I fear." The sight of the guns set me on edge and I ran to keep up with them. Raoul turned to me and placed a hand on my shoulder. He speedily reached into his waistcoat and withdrew a small handful of franc bank notes.
"Christine, go down to the corner. Find my driver if you can or fetch a cab. Take it to my townhouse and lock yourself in. Do not leave until I get there." he ordered.
"I understand, but I'm not going. I'm staying with you. You'll need me." I pointed out.
"I can't let you. It's too dangerous. I've almost lost you to this madman; I won't risk losing you again."
I tugged at his sleeve. "Yes, but Genny is my friend. I feel just as responsible for her as you do. Besides, if you managed to find your way to Erik's house, how will you then get out?" I reasoned.
He covered my cold hands with his. "Christine. Please just listen to me, just this once. Do what I say and get away from here." He leaned over and kissed me, spreading his lips over mine. Then he turned to follow the Persian.
"There is a way into Erik's house through the cellars. I have been there. We can only have hoped that he has not destroyed that entrance as well." I watched them walk on at a brisk pace and then followed behind them.
Once inside, they walked even faster and I brought my protesting feet up to pace as the Persian turned down the corridors that I had only seen the stage hands use. Raoul finally seemed to notice I was still following them.
"Christine..." he started.
"I'm going with you." I cut him off. "Just to make certain you come back." I pressed my hand on against the side of his face and his gaze softened.
"We must hurry if we are to have the advantage on Erik." The Persian interrupted. "Stay right behind us, Mlle. Daae." I nodded and step by step we disappeared into the passages way that lead into the cellars, further down into hell. The Persian led us to a set of stairs which we descended. Every two dozen steps there would be a door which the Persian would open then shut. He would gesture for us to move ahead and he walked along, repeating this strange process three times. I was thankful that the gas lights in this stairwell had not been put out. Raoul held my hand and kept his pistol at the ready with the other having it pointed in the direction over the Persian's shoulder.
The forth door was locked. "We can go no further this way." He raised an eyebrow at Raoul and the angle of his gun, which was now pointed squarely at his face. "Perhaps I should have explained myself in regard to our fire arms, M. Vicomte." He moved his pistol so the barrel was pointing towards the ceiling and the heel of the gun was almost level with her shoulder. "These are not for shooting our foe in the dark."
"What do you mean, Monsieur?" Raoul asked
The Persian gave me a sympathetic look. "Erik is not frightened of guns. However we should be frightened of his weapon; the punjab noose."
"The punjab...noose..." I intoned.
"A rare weapon indeed, an even greater rarity to find so skilled a master as Erik." He started back up the stairs. "Back in my home country, Erik has earned the favor of the Shah and his daughter. Along with being their private engineer, magician and court composer, Erik was elevated to the position of executioner. He favored the noose which he would throw with deadly accuracy. He could snap a man's neck with the twist of his hand."
I buried my chin in the folds of my cloak to suppress my gasp of shock. Once again the Persian's understanding gaze fell on me.
"So you see, the guns are to protect...our necks." he explained, not wasting time on being sensitive in his speech. "So please keep them at the level of your eye." We entered through the last unlocked door on the level above us. I could see the Persian's back tense as he entered through the door. Only a few steps inside, we could all tell that there was not enough light in the space to help guide our way. The Persian deftly reached inside his jacket and brought out a box of matches. He struck one, handed it to Raoul and then lit another for himself.
"See if you can find a lantern."
Raoul managed to locate one quickly leaning against a large crate covered in dust. The light reveled what seemed an endless space of similar dusty boxes, racks, flats and miscellaneous stage dressings.
"I once followed Erik down here. He must have another entrance to his home besides the lake, a back door of some sorts. I saw him disappear between one of these flats so I would suspect that he had built a trap door in the floor."
I recalled what the Persian had told me earlier. That he had been trying to track Erik and had almost lost his life when he tried to cross the lake. Yet he had obviously continued in his pursuit for my sake.
Raoul moved me between them. "Stay close, Christine." They stalked across the darkened room, their eyes glued to the floor looking for the elusive trap door. I obeyed but my feet seemed to find every jutting corner to trip on in the darkness.
"Over here!" The Persian gestured us to a space near the wall, between two large painted flats made to resemble country houses. He set the lantern on the floor, illuminated a piece of the floor with a strange risen edge in the wood. Carefully placement of his fingers, and the "floor" opened and he swung the top of the trap door towards us. He leaned over, peering inside the pitch black hole. He frowned.
"I was certain I saw Erik come through this way. However I can only guess where it leads to." He turned to Raoul asking the question without speaking.
"Let me in first." he stated, nodding his head. "If it's safe, I can let you in." He reached his hand out to the Persian who handed him the box of matches. Raoul shrugged off his tailcoat and put his pistol on the floor. He sat on the floor, letting his feet dangle into the unknown abyss beneath us. He struck a match and with one quick glance at me, he jumped in.
My heart jumped when I immediately heard a thud below us. I peered over but could see nothing. "Raoul?" I whispered. I could see the flicker of a match that was only strong enough to show me his silhouette.
"It's only about a few meters down. Christine, I'll catch you." I glanced nervously at the Persian, who nodded and handed me the lantern. I positioned myself on the ledge and leaned over shining the lantern down into the darkness. It was enough to dimly illuminate Raoul's face and his outstretched arms. I gripped onto the lantern tightly and pushed myself off.
I closed my eyes, even though I knew I was dropping into totally darkness. Raoul's hands snatched me out of the air and forced my eyes open. The hand holding the lantern was shaking violently. Raoul hugged me tightly as he lowered me down to the floor, offering me assurance in his strong arms.
He relieved me of the lantern and held it aloft. I saw the box of matches on the floor and I struck another one. I stared at it in a moment's fascination while I heard the sound of the Persian drop down through the trap door. I saw the flicker of something familiar in front of me. It was a light, another light beckoning me. I forgot the pressing need to stay closer to my two protectors and walked towards the light. Quickly, I moved towards it, afraid of my match going out. The closer I got, the brighter the other light became. My hope kept me blindly going forward to the other light, which now revealed another form carrying the light ahead of them.
I was so close to it. I could feel the flame dancing downward, heating my finger tips to the point of burning them. I reached the light and outstretched my hand to greet this mysterious person before me. My hand smacked against something hard suddenly, sending a pain rocketing up my arm. A small cry escaped my lips as I saw my own reflection staring back at me.
I heard a string of foreign words escape the Persian in a tone of anger that could only indicate curses. The flame finally fizzled down to my fingertips and I dropped the match.
"What's the matter?" I heard Raoul ask. Then he called out to me. "Christine? Christine?"
I pressed my hand against the wall I had run into. "This wall...it's a looking glass. A mirror" I whispered.
"Yes. A mirror!" The Persian echoed angrily. "Such a fool..." he then muttered.
"What's wrong? Speak!" Raoul demanded.
A deep sigh escaped in the sickening darkness around us. I could see the faint light of the lantern start to reflect around the mirrored walls and ceiling.
"I am afraid, my friends, that is the entrance to the torture chamber." he stated.
We did not even have a moment to contemplate before we heard a mad scream echoed from beyond walls and the room was filled with bright red light. It was so sudden and filled with a vicious glare that all three of us covered our eyes to shield them. I staggered back towards Raoul, who held me close.
The scream was replaced by a chuckle.
"You old fool. I would have suspected you would follow me here." Erik's voice called out.
The Persian reached out and put both his hand over our shoulders. "Get down." he hissed, applying enough pressure that we did not argue with his demands. I drop to my knees and huddled on the floor, which was smooth on my skin.
"But I do believe you have company in there with you, dear daroga." Erik continued. "How cruel of you to lead the young vicomte here?"
The Persian pulled off his long coat and wrapped it over my frame. "Stay still." he whispered to me. He and Raoul were both spread out on the floor. He gestured to Raoul to move closer to me. "Hide her."
The light intensified and a creeping heat started to emanate from the floor. I could feel it warm my limbs in what was first a pleasing sensation that gave away to an uncomfortable one. I looked up at the room of mirrors surrounding us. I could see black shapes and shadows distorted in the clear glass and turned to see in the middle of the room a great sculpture that resembled some sort of twisted tree.
Erik went on with his taunts. "How good of you to drop by my home. No doubt you had a grand rescue in mind as you came down here. What a pity. You've landed into my oldest trap."
A beam of white light spilled across the room. I bent my head to look up, but Raoul placed his hand on it, forcing me to bury it into the floor. I placed it in the folds of the coat, to shield it from the floor. Erik must have been looking in from the outside.
"Erik, you must let us out." The Persian called out. "You gave me your word that no one would die at your hand. You made a promise!"
The heat increased and I was starting to sweat. Raoul kept a hand at the small of my back trying to comfort me, but I could feel it trembling.
"Promises are for idiots!" Erik sneered, his voice calling from all sides of the chamber. "Besides, with you two detained as my guests, you have let my lovely Christine unattended." He gloated. "It's sickening how easily I seem to get my way. I don't even have to try very hard."
"You fiend!" Raoul gritted through his teeth. I curled up further into the coat, feeling utterly helpless as Erik mocked us. I regretted ever believing I could trust him.
"Enjoy your stay in my home." Erik added. "But should you feel the need to cut your stay short, you may entreat on my generous hospitality and end your miserable lives." Another hideous laugh filled the room.
"What does he mean?" Raoul asked.
"Erik once built a torture chamber for the Shah. He filled the room with enough heat to kill a man. In some sick idea of mercy, he added the iron tree to serve as a gibbet, should the victim wish to take his own life." he explained in a hush tone. "If he leaves his home to try and find Christine, we are doomed. The heat will kill us in less than an hour."
"My God!" Raoul gasped. "He must not know that she is here." I now understood the Persian's desperation in trying to conceal me.
The coat was almost suffocating me. I pushed it aside only to find the heat of the room was a dreadful alternative. I coughed and Raoul put his hand over my mouth and held me up to steady me. "But how...can we hope to get out?" Raoul hand pressed tighter to silence me. The Persian was now crawling on the floor, searching for something.
"There must be a mechanism, or a switch; something that would open a door." he muttered. I looked over on the wall and saw a key hole; a lock with no handled. I recalled the night after the opening of "Figaro" when I awoke with my heart broken and opened the strange door in Erik's living room. The door Erik had warned me never to open again.
"Erik has keys. I know where they are. You must let me out." I explained. Raoul shook his head.
"No Christine, I will not let you go to him. Not again."
"But we'll die!" my voice rose and sounded across the room. In a flash the bright white light appeared again. The Persian stood up and grabbed my hand and pulled me to the other side of the iron tree. He then grabbed his coat and thrust it towards me, his serious eyes conveying his unspoken command. I pulled the coat over my head and huddled into the side of the twisted tree.
"Who else is there?" Erik called. I jumped. I had hoped as we all did that he had left by now. "Who are you hiding?" The suspicious was thick in his gruff voice.
"Nothing!" Raoul shouted. "Why don't you enter your death trap and see for yourself, villain!"
"That would make it too easy for you, M. Vicomte. I can plainly see your guns from here and I'm certain what you intend to do with them." Erik mocked. "You're hiding something..."
The room remained silent, except for the sound of our panting from the heat and exhaustion. I looked down at my feet only seeing the devilish red light mingled with the white one. I had to escape. I couldn't let us stay here and die in suffering. It would benefit no one. Raoul and I would end our time on this earth here in this miserable place. Erik would no doubt discover my body and go mad with grief, and what of Genny? Who would save her if we were all dead?
Raoul came around to the tree and pressed a hand on my shoulder. I peered at him through the coat.
"There is no other way. Raoul please let me try…" I pleaded.
He pressed his head towards my forehead. "I rather see us die together than give you back to him. Hate me if you must, Christine, but that is what I would choose." His voice was breaking from the stifling heat or from the tears he was fighting to hold back.
"But will you give me a choice? Will you give me a chance to save us?" I begged.
I was so close to the chance of escaping and starting a new life. Like with every other attempt I had made, I was seeing my hope quickly snatched away and destroyed. I knew the pain I would cause in whatever way I choose, but I couldn't accept this one. I could not have others suffer more for my sake.
Raoul sighed and nodded his head slowly.
The white light disappeared.
"Erik!" A sob cut into me as I called to him. "Erik, I'm in here. Please let me out!"