Chapter Three: Turn of fate
Erik was awake yet he didn't want to rise. He wanted to remember the strangely illusive dream he had last night. He remembered that there was a woman and they made love. That she made him content and happy. His body still felt her warmth and gentleness wrapped in deep passion, his heart yearning for her return. The details of the dream however escaped him completely. At last he shook his head and rose, abandoning his fruitless efforts. Slowly, he made his way to the wall of his temporary sanctuary. Only silence greeted his nervous ears. The mob had gone. It was time to retrieve his possessions.
The scene of destructions lay bare in front of his eyes. His prized organ was destroyed beyond repair. His music sheets were torn and spilt all over the floor, sharing the same fates with his enchanting drawings. His writing tools were broken into pieces. He sighed, thinking the irony of men who had to destroy the beauty he created, unable to punish the monster they were after. Oh they punished the monster alright, he thought, by savaging his beautiful creation. These were cowards who had no courage to fight him alone.
He quietly unlocked the door of his bedroom, which the mob failed to understand how to get in. He took out one of his white masks from the drawer after changing into clean clothes. He placed his mask on his right side face and frowned. Something was not quite right. It did not fit comfortably with his face. There was a slight gap between the two when there should be none. He walked to the mirror in the room, the only mirror that escaped his anger and despair. Facing the mirror, he slowly took the mask off from his face to examine the problem, feeling slightly annoyed that he had to carefully look at his haunted face.
He gasped at the face which greeted him, sharply turning away from it. Is my mind playing tricks with me? How is this ever possible? He closed his eyes and breathed a deep breath before hesitantly tracing the right side of his face with his fingers. There were no bumps. His fingers marvelled at the smoothness of the skin. When he finally opened his eyes again, the new face was still there. A strikingly attractive face without any trace of deformity finally smiled at him. Harsh and bitter laughter followed the brief blissful smile. The curse has finally left him after he lost the one thing he so desired and loved. But the new face gave him a chance to find out the questions that intrigued and haunted him. Would Christine still choose Raoul over him? Would he still love her with passion that borders obsession now that he was no longer destined to solitude and loneliness? For now, these questions alone guided his actions. He sat down at the edge of his bed to plan his next move.