Chapter Five: Masks

Erik looked down at his white mask held in his right hand with mixed emotion. This mask represented his phantom era. It gave him power and made him feel safe. Yet he cursed it at the same time as he could not look at it without thinking about what was behind. Now he no longer needed it yet he could not simply throw it away even though it was a reminder of his past pain and despair. He caressed it gently with his long fingers. He managed to slip it into one of his suit cases, which were tightly packed with what he could salvage after the mob's visit. He left his room to give one last look at his once beautiful lair. He would leave this place tomorrow and probably will not return for a long time. He should be happy that he could live in light without the fear of being discovered and hunted down. After all that's what he longed for, wasn't it?

Something told him he was dreaming. His home was once again lit with candle lights. His skilful fingers were creating the music of the night as his magnificent organ faithfully responded to its master. "I love this place," a soft sensual voice spoke from behind, "I love the lake and the candle lights. And your music brings to light the beauty and sorrow that graces only the darkness of the night in all its glory." Erik smiled as he felt the familiar gentle sensation around his waist. He turned her around to look at her face, gently lifting up her chin so that they could meet each other's gaze. Her black hair, the softness of which his fingers knew so well, was cut much above the shoulder line. He marvelled at how her unmistakable non-European features effortlessly blended with her pale white colouring.

Oh Hannah. He thought to himself. They will not fail to notice that you are different. They will not be able to see past your face. How is it that your heart conceals no bitterness?

"Monsieur," Hannah whispered, "You look a little different today."

"Erik," he smiled, "if you are tired of formalities. After all, we are rather well acquainted with each other."

"Erik," Hannah pronounced slowly, taking delight in the sound of his name. As Erik watched her full lips depart slowly, his desperate yearning for her body came back with its full force. He looked away from her and tried to focus on the questions he had for her. After a few minutes, he turned towards Hannah, to find the curious look on her face. He wrapped her small frame, covered only with a pale blue night dress, with his black cloak and led her gently towards his room.

"Are you moving away from your lair?" Hannah asked, pointing towards the suitcases. Erik nodded, gesturing Hannah towards the bed and seating himself on a chair. Hannah sighed before sitting on the edge of the bed. "I don't know why but I love seeing you here."

"I will come back here," he said softly, "every night if you wish." He knew no matter where he lived, his dream would effortlessly guide him to this place. The lair was no longer the prison of his mind. Only now he could appreciate, in its entirety, the true beauty of the place he built with his heart.

Hannah's face quietly brightened up.

"Hannah," Erik paused a little before going on, "Was that you? I mean, my face."

"I will only answer your questions if you sit next to me," Hannah replied with a small grin, gesturing Erik to the bed.

"You are impossible, Hannah." Erik moved towards her, wondering whether his questions will ever be asked tonight, let alone being answered.

"Well?" Erik pressed, taking her hands into his, "I'm here next to you, just where you want me to be."

"I do not know," Hannah gave him a warm smile, "I believe I was partly responsible but it was you who truly wanted to be free from your disfigurement just as it was you who called me. I only responded to your desires and that's all I know."

"So it is not entirely your fault that I have to part with my masks?"

"We all wear masks, Erik. You will soon wear one again only people will not see it this time. I wear one in my world. Not to hide my face but to conceal the fact that I do not often think or feel the way others would expect me to. The only person I do not have to wear it with is you. I do not seem to frighten you. My thoughts and emotions do not seem to repel you."

Erik understood then. His solitude was not entirely forced. His deformity had blinded him to the fact that people often hid themselves under a mask for acceptance. What he yearned for, to be accepted for who he truly was, was no mean task to achieve even without his deformity. If only his conscious self could see this. He sighed. He knew what his waking self were after when he already knew the answers in his heart.

"Hannah," he called her tenderly, stroking her cheeks with his fingers and feeling her hot breath on his neck, "Have you ever wanted to be accepted?"

"Yes," she looked up, locking her gaze into those penetrating green eyes, "for what I am. To be loved for being myself and not for how I looked or behaved."

I will learn more about her. Erik thought to himself, silently slipping out of his shirt and pressing his burning lips on hers. I will cherish every thought and feeling of hers without prejudice.