The entire aura of his room seemed out of place to Erik as he stepped within. Nothing at all seemed disturbed, and yet everything did. It was similar to that eerie feeling one gets when they know they are being watched. Erik surveyed his surroundings quickly, searching for any intruders. All he found, however, was a beautiful silver tray with a single chalice and a bottle atop it. A note rested to the side, and upon further examination Erik found that the letters were penned in red and were feminine.
"A gift from the lady. Please enjoy."
Even Erik would admit that such a gift was peculiar, but as he lifted the bottle to inspect the label it seemed to be a very high quality wine, of excellent vintage. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
"To you then, Anna.." he murmured, as he filled his glass and began to drink without a second thought. It was exquisite, flowing across his tongue in sweet delight. Quickly the first glass had been finished, and he filled it again. He began rummaging about in his things, gathering a change of clothes. He still had every intention of making it to rehearsals, if only to thank Annabel for the gift.
Before he could continue in this quest, however, he found it necessary to take a seat. As he stared into the nearly emptied glass, he noticed that everything left a trail behind it in his vision. As if it were moving in slow motion. Erik groaned, moving his hand in horror and fascination to watch the effect again.
"Potent wine," he spoke into the air, addressing no one but himself. "Damn," he continued, realizing he would not be able to go anywhere in this state. The effects of the drug were swift, however, and soon a feeling of euphoria washed over him that left him speechless. His mind tried to piece together who it was he had wanted to see, and he could almost form her face in his mind - but could not even grasp her name.
He was not at all sleepy, but suddenly even the wooden chair he rested in seemed so comfortable that he wanted to curl into it and sleep like a child. A delighted sigh escaped him.
"Mmmm..."
And then, piercing through the sweet euphoria in it's own heavenly sound, came her voice. Hers. His angel had returned. Erik could not, in his present state, recall his transgressions toward her. He did not remember missing their lesson, or any of the guilt he had felt because of it. All he knew at the moment was delight at hearing her again.
"Angel," he muttered pleasantly, lifting his gaze toward the ceiling as if he would see her.
"I am your angel of music.."
Oh, the bliss! Her voice stroked his mind with sensual affection, weaving its way into his soul until he felt as if he soared on eagles' wings.
"Yes," he offered in weak response, too lost in the effect of her drug and voice to even manage a counterpoint to the beautiful song, as they often conversed.
"Come to me angel of music,"
The most bizarre thing followed. The entire wall seemed to move, a portion of it displacing itself atop its neighbor until a large opening presented itself. Erik's mind refused to feel alarm, however, unwilling to relinquish the pleasure it was encased in. The light of candles pierced the din of his room, making it seem more dank and musty than usual. The candles lined a hall, for as far as Erik could see. They seemed to sway, and Erik nearly found himself amused at the sight. That is, until his gaze fell upon the figure standing in the center of the doorway.
A celestial being, no doubt. She seemed taller than most women, and as frail and delicate as a flower. She was tall, deathly pale, and a bounty of raven locks fell in disarray about her shoulders. A dark, perhaps black, gown wound about her curves possessively, making her seem even thinner if that were possible. What was most startling about the figure, however, was the face. One side was simply astonishing. Delicate features, enchanting eyes, flawless. On the other, however, was a mask. It looked to be made out of leather, as it molded to the shape of the wearers face. It was white, and covered her from the top of her brow to her chin. While to many it may seem rather comical to wear a half mask, Erik could only find intrigue and curiosity in response to it's presence. Without realizing it, he stood to the beckon of her extended hand.
"I am your angel of music, come to me angel of music."
His angel! Her voice was found within this body, this physical apparition. Oh, what a tempting dream this was turning out to be! He could scarcely wait to touch her, to prove that it was real to his mind - only beginning to rebel against the haze cast over it. With heavy steps he approached, his hand extending to take hers.
Before their fingers could touch, the sound of knuckles rapping against wood resounded.
"Erik, are you in there?" came a female voice. In a state of higher clarity, Erik would have recognized it as belonging to Annabel. Now, however, he could scarcely hear it.
"I am your angel of music, come to me angel of music..."
The tone had changed. Still glorious in it's quality, it held an edge of danger and command. This vision before him was no longer asking. Another step closer he moved.
"Who is that in there with you? Erik? Erik!" The knocking was more insistent now.
In a simple grasp Erik's fingers slid into those presented to him. She was cool to touch, but ever so real, and he found that her hand felt small within his own. Despite the size, there was strength in it and he found he could not tear his gaze away from her mysterious face even as she led him into the tunnel and the wall moved on it's own accord, closing behind him.
The journey downwards seemed to take forever, and no time at all. She sang to him the entire way, cajoling his mind with the power she already held over him. The entire night seemed awake with magic, and it all seemed to hover about this figure gliding effortlessly before him through the confusing maze of tunnels.
Soon they were on the edge of a lake, and the woman encouraged him inside a small gondola resting there. He settled languidly in it's bottom, too inebriated to be of any real assistance in the rowing efforts. She did not seem to struggle, however, and poled the craft easily through the dark and murky waters. Before his swimming vision candelabras began to appear, illuminating what seemed to be a vast cavern. In a more alert state he would have noticed the fine furnishings, the impeccable taste, and the rich fabrics. Now, however, he could only see his host and as she was bathed in the welcoming light of the candles, he felt awestruck.
She was beautiful. Not at all sunshine and flowers like Annabel, but something dark and appealing. He suddenly longed to touch her again, to confirm once more that she was in fact real. His wish was granted as they stopped with a jolt at the far shore, and she extended her hand toward him again.
As eagerly as a child would snatch at candy, he reached for her. He thought he noticed a smirk playing upon her crimson lips, but did not have time to dwell upon it as she tugged him upwards and out of the gondola.
The splendor of the room was hardly enough to distract him from her, and his gaze did not stray even as she released him and moved about her lair. In song, she welcomed him. The melody was seductive and resonated through his entire being. He felt his eyes lower in the sheer pleasure of her voice washing over him.
"I have brought you to the seat of sweet music's throne.."
The song continued, weaving a hypnotic tale of the beauties of the night, tempting him to abandon the baleful sunlight and submit himself to life in her keeping. Erik could only watch as his angel moved, until she beckoned him to come. He followed, reaching for those cool fingertips with zeal. They just evaded his touch, and she smiled at him. The pounding of his heart was deafening, and somewhere in the back of his mind alarm began to cry. This was not right. Something was not right!
The drug was too powerful, however, and the affect of her presence upon him was irrevocable. The cries were stifled, and Erik found himself in a different room, facing a unique bed. It was perfectly round and rather baroque. It was raised on a pedestal in the center that made the entire creation seem to float. Around it's circumference were carefully carved angels, beautiful visages with tempting smiles or sultry stares. None of this mattered to Erik, however, as his living angel beckoned him in. With a curve of her wrist she instructed him into the bed, and he obeyed.
"Angel.." he managed to speak, longing to ask a million questions. Before he could hear her reply, however, consciousness faded and he succumbed to the drug-induced sleep that was inevitable.
Christine stood and watched him in his slumber. The rugged strength faded a bit and he seemed so soft, so relaxed in his dreams. She smiled, and pulled the curtain down to shield him from the candlelight. Before he had fallen asleep he had called for her, and when he awoke she would be there to answer that call.