"It's just beyond this water, down a bit deeper into the cavern." Raoul shouted back at the men. He was the first to reach the water's edge. He took his torch and lifted it high into the air so that the room would have some illumination. The men clamored in behind him. "Which way now sir?" said the first to arrive. "The boat, the boat is gone.." Raoul looked about the room with frustration. "We will have to traverse the water as I know of no other way to gain access."
Raoul was first to drop himself into the freezing water. The second and third followed suit, and soon all were immersed into chest deep water so cold it felt as if ice should be forming on the surface. The chill of the water did not deter Raoul as he had seen much worse just hours before.
He moved ahead pushing his way through the water and the men, torches held above their heads, followed in single file. The way was eerie, much stranger than he remembered, with skulls and gargoyles carved into the stone on the walls. The light from the torches only made the sculptures seem larger than life, more ominous. Strange words in languages that none knew were inscribed below the fiercest looking faces, no doubt a warning to all that past them. The winds whistled through the corridors threatening to extinguish the flames on the sticks that they carried. Several did and the procession had to pause to relight them.
"It's just ahead, everyone be careful now as the traps no doubt become more plentiful near the entrance." Raoul said with a whispered hush. Soon all the men were lined up, two layers deep, peering through the grates of the gate. No light was in the room, but the could tell from the echoing rush of the waters that the room must be large.
Raoul began to feel his way around the edges of the gate, climbing up to the top, and down to the other side. The men were becoming anxious to find themselves out of the water and began to move around, sloshing about. One near the left edge of the group felt his foot slip and suddenly disappeared into the murky depths, his torch extinguished.
The group fell silent in horror, and Raoul dropped himself into the water and dove down to grab the man. He pushed his eyes open trying in vain to see in the murky darkness. His eyes stung and he quickly shut them again as his vision served no purpose in a place this void of light. He finally reached the man who was thrashing about like an animal caught in a snare. The man grabbed at him, and Raoul tried to lift him to the surface but alas he was stuck, but to what he could not tell. Raoul released him and swam just beyond his grasp and dove deeper until he could feel about the man's feet. His shoe was caught on some rounded curl of metal. Raoul quickly slipped the man's shoe from his foot, and he immediately rushed to the surface of the water, gasping for air. He startled his companions and they let out a terrified yelp. He swam toward the safety of the gate and clung to it for dear life.
Raoul still beneath the surface dove down once more to feel about the odd metal he had felt. He could feel a hinge and a spring attached to it. With all his might he tried to lift it, but nothing. He then pushed it, and it gave way, but quickly snapped back into position. When he reached the surface, he was amazed to see all the men looking up at the gate that was now lifting. He had found the hidden lever.
The men began to rush into the cave toward the awaiting shore. Having reached it, they looked for anything that they could light. They all stood shivering as the room came into full view. By all accounts, had these things been inside a home, they would have belonged to a nobleman. A piano and bench. Bookcases filled as a library would be. A drawing table with two chairs. Candelabras here and there. They were struck by how normal a room this was for such a monster, a Phantom.
Raoul finally reached the shore and pulled himself up to the stairs that led to the rooms to the rear of this stage. Taking a new torch in hand he went to the first room, nothing but a large coffin-like box lay on the floor and a small night stand at it's side, with layers and layers of melted wax stemming from the small brass candlestick. He ran out and down to the next room, a large velvet curtain hung at it's front, and inside a large carved swan-shaped bed, with lovely satin sheets. The very sight of it made Raoul fill with rage.
A dresser, and armoire, all drawers pulled out, empty. He ran towards the dressing screen and peered behind. Nothing. But wait, what was that on the floor? He moved closer, bending down he lifted the wet gown from the ground. Was this Christine's? He had never seen it before, and he dared not think she could have afforded such an elaborate gown. He held the torch higher and he flung the dress out onto the bed to look at it, only to notice it looked like a wedding dress. Could this be? Was his mind playing tricks on him? "Christine…" Raoul gasped under his breath. He could hear the men busy about the room behind him, breaking glass and ripping fabric.
He returned to the entrance of the room, torch in hand, filled anew with a need to find her, to bring her to safety. "Men, we must look in every corner of this room, and if we don't find a secret passage here, we will move back to the outer corridor and search there. There is no one here, but they cannot have been gone long." With that Raoul motioned to the men to begin searching. Soon they were spread out all over the cavern, searching the walls, and inspecting the ceiling above them. "I've found it!" One man screeched to Raoul.
He jumped down and went rushing over to him. Behind the thick black curtain was a shattered mirror, and what lay beyond the gaping hole in the rock he did not know, but knew he had to find out. "Come on, bring your torches, for surely this is the way that the monster must have taken her." Raoul was the first to enter and then followed by the rest. Once again the room was empty, seemingly lonely, with a single lit candle flickering on the piano.
XXX
Erik held Christine by the wrist, as they rushed through the pitch-black of the tunnels. He turned and weaved in and out of the labyrinth of stone that lay beneath the Opera House. Christine didn't complain but tried to keep up carrying the bag with one hand and following Erik's leading with the other. Erik paused for a moment as he could sense the hesitancy in Christine's hand.
"Christine, do not fear for your safety. I know these catacombs by heart and could travel them in the dark." "We are traveling them in the dark Erik." Christine replied with obvious fear in her voice. "My eyes are much more accustomed to these conditions than yours, I know, but trust in me, I shall lead you to no harm. You will not find any impediments on this path, except your own fears." Erik gently pulled Christine to him giving her a reassuring kiss on the cheek. "Follow me." With that Erik was once again moving quickly down deeper into the ground at an incline that made Christine's mind whirl. She felt they had descended far enough to be close to the center of the earth.
They had been traveling for a long while, Christine's feet ached, she could barely catch her breath. She was at once thankful in those moments not to have been confined by a corset as that would never have allowed for her lungs to fill and empty as freely as they were now. She hadn't breathed that deep for a very long time.
Soon Erik's pace slowed and came to a halt. He let go of Christine's hand. "Erik!" Christine called out in fear that he had left her. "Shhh" came his response. She stood terrified by the blackness, and the grinding of stone that she could hear just feet in front of her. She heard Erik grunt as though he were struggling with something. Christine reached out in front of her thrashing her hands about in the void but could not feel him. She moved a few inches forward, her hands trembling, and mind once again in motion at what lay ahead of her. Suddenly Erik's hand grasped hers, and she let out a gasp. "Bring your bag, and watch your step."
Christine moved back the few feet she had gone and began feeling around on the ground until her hands discovered the bag and she took it quickly and began to move forward again. Erik's hand was now on her back, and his other hand on hers as if a gentleman guiding a lady through a doorway. Once inside, Christine could feel the closeness of the room, as the echo of her breathing reverberated off the walls. Erik led her to a wall and assisted her to sit on something, what it was, she wasn't sure. She heard Erik again moving what sounded like a large stone. Then gentle tapping and a swish that sounded like Erik had just flung a large garment to the ground. The scrape of metal on metal, and something that sounded like rings being placed on hooks. It was silent for a moment.
"Erik?" A single scratch, and the smell of bursting sulfur. A candle soon illuminated the tiny room. Christine's eyes struggled in the new light but grew wide with amazement. It was a small room indeed, but had many things a small cave would not normally contain. There was a small table with two chairs. Several boxes that were tightly sealed. Several large blankets on the floor on top of what appeared to be a make-shift straw bed. On the other side of the room was a small table with a basin and pitcher. Several books were scattered on the floor. A quill and bottle of black ink, and blank sheets of parchment lay at their side.
She looked up at Erik who was wiping his brow and panting from his labors. She glanced at the hole they had just passed through and saw what she had heard. Erik had hung a large black curtain over the entrance, pushing it up tightly into the crevasses where stone met stone. It was a shield for the light.
"We cannot have but one candle here and it must be kept a distance from the door. If any sounds are heard it must be immediately put out." Erik looked at her to see that she understood his instructions. She nodded in acknowledgement. Erik took his cloak off his shoulders, whirling it on the bed in a flourish.
He walked over to Christine. She hadn't really realized how tall Erik was but in this room he could not stand fully. He took her by the hand and led her to the table. "Sit, it will be much more comfortable for you." Erik turned and busied himself with putting the bags together near the entrance and began opening the sealed boxes she had seen before.
The first box contained several cups and saucers, a few tea bags, and hard biscuits. The second a small pitcher, and towels. Erik lifted a tiny tablecloth and took it over to the table. He smoothed it over the surface as Christine looked on in amazement. He then brought the tin of biscuits and the cups and saucers. A jar of preserves and a butter knife.
Christine stretched her neck to see what else Erik would bring from the box. He turned around, pitcher in hand and moved to the far side of the cave. Behind one of the large rocks was the small trickle of a natural spring. Erik stood patiently as the pitcher collected several cups of water. Christine watched in amazement at Erik's motions. They all seemed so relaxed yet purposeful.
Erik turned and his eyes met Christine's. He smiled as he walked to the table and placed the pitcher on it. Christine had put the cups in the saucers and had laid out the butter knife next to the preserves. Erik sat down in the chair across from her, holding the pitcher now above the candle. "The water is pure, but cold, it will take some time before.." Christine interrupted not with her voice, but her eyes. Erik couldn't help but be amazed once more at her sheer beauty, her gentleness, her goodness. She was all he could have ever imagined a fine woman to be, and she was there with him.
"Erik, thank you. You needn't tire your arm to warm the water. It is fine to drink as you said, and it will be a welcome wetness to my parched throat." With that Erik put down the pitcher and reached out his hand and placed it over Christine's. He felt a surge of sadness as he knew she would have been accustomed to a more suitable dinner had she been in the safety of the Opera House, but this is all he could offer her.
He took the tin of biscuits in his hand, peeling the wax from the edges of the lid. Christine took the jar of preserves in her hand and began to do the same. The tin was laid open on the table, and the preserves at it's side. Christine had never shared a meal with Erik, and didn't know what he normally did. Did he devour it without manners? Who would have taught him otherwise, it isn't something that one is born knowing. Christine glanced down not quite sure what to do.
Erik reached out again covering her hand with his. She glanced up to see that Erik had lowered his head, so she did the same. "We humbly thank you for these gifts, Amen." Christine dared not look up. She put both hands in her lap. Had he just said a prayer? In all those years she had never heard him utter a prayer, nor hint at what he believed or not. She hadn't thought about an opera ghost having faith, it just never occurred to her that he might, as he was already part of that world. But no, he was a man, part of this world, and he too had reverence for a stronger being.
Erik cleared his throat. Christine looked up, and their eyes met. Erik had busied himself smearing strawberries on the hard biscuits placing two on Christine's plate, and two on his. He poured water into each of their cups. Looking at her he said "Is this alright my dear? I am sorry that I have no other provisions to offer you, and I was certain you would be hungry by now." Erik sunk his teeth into the first biscuit carefully wiping the crumbs from each corner of his mouth with his fingers. Erik looked at Christine who still hadn't moved toward her food.
"Are you not hungry?" "Yes, yes I am" Christine blurted out. I am most hungry as the last that I'd eaten is breakfast this morning." "Why don't you eat then?" Erik had set his biscuit back in the saucer and was looking at her. "Erik, where did you learn to pray?" Erik looked down and resettled himself in his chair. He didn't at first reply. "Erik?" Christine said. He looked back up at her, looking for the first time she could recall, timid. He replied, "from you my dear."
Christine felt a surge of warmth running through her. Realizing that she had given Erik something that no one else in his life probably had. Standing, she went to him, flinging her arms around his shoulders and nestling her face on the back of his neck. "Erik, I am so sorry for the cruelty of this world, for what you have been deprived of."
Christine fought back tears as she held him close to her. Erik sat motionless, and then his shoulders began to heave back and forth as his pain overtook him. He rested his head on his now folded arms on the table and began to cry without reservation. Christine rubbed her hands on his back and shoulders trying to comfort him. She knelt down on the floor next to him, and tried to look up at his face through his arms.
A bit embarrassed by his sudden outburst of emotion, Erik tried to pull his head up and face away from Christine's sight. He tried to wipe the tears from underneath his mask. He felt a gentle hand on his chin and Christine was turning his face towards hers. He looked up into her eyes and saw the redemption he had sought for as long as he had sensed his own mortality.
Christine looked at him with all the love and admiration that she felt inside her. "Erik, the tears are our souls way of washing out the damage of our lives, they are nothing to be ashamed of, they bring much needed release to the pain we feel." She stood up and kissed his tear streaked cheek and then held his face in her hands. Looking deeply into his eyes she said "I love you Erik, all of you. I shall be here to dry your tears" she said as she gently began to wipe the tears on his cheeks with her long brown tendrils. "I will be here to turn your tears into memories, and fill your life with happiness, that is my prayer for you."
Erik rose to his feet and pulled Christine into his arms. Their heads resting on one another's shoulders, and their hearts beating against their chests. "Oh Christine.." Erik said as he lifted her into his arms holding her as close as she had ever been. With no corset between them it felt as though he could wrap his arms around her very heart. He gently set her back on her feet. Looking down he reached out and kissed her tenderly. Their eyes meeting but never closing, not wanting to miss the embrace of their souls.