Re-cap: Gabrielle had gotten in trouble with Erik for playing a game with Reginald. While hiding out in the turret, she makes a chilling discovery…
Ch 9 – The UnearthingBells were ringing in my head. "Tall, dark, masked, composer—$hit."
Several newspaper accounts agreed that the gallant Viscomte de Chaney, Mlle. Daae's fiancé, had put an end to the miserable monster's rein by shooting him. He fell into the underground lake near an outtake. His corpse was never found.
I sat in the middle of the dusty floor with clippings strewn around me. I was stunned by my revelation. As a journalist, I was trained to piece details together in order to uncover a factual story. My connect-the-dots method had led me to one conclusion: Erik was the infamous Phantom of the Opera. I knew it was a popular book, but no one in modern times believed it to be true. Erik didn't look like a death's head; he didn't seem insane. I'm sure turn of the century author Gaston Laroux took some artistic license with his portrayal. Perhaps he was even protecting the eccentric composer.
What does this mean Gabrielle? Is Erik a deranged and obsessive monster or simply a deeply wounded artistic soul?
"I sure hope he isn't seriously bi-polar in the Jekyll-Hyde sense," I said out loud.
Stop it Gab, you're freaking yourself out.
Glancing out of the small circular stained glass window, I noticed that the sun had shifted considerably. I put the clippings back in their proper place and walked over to the window. The sun was kissing the treetops. Had I been engrossed in perusing the remnants of this gothic soap opera the entire day? My stomach growled yes, so I chewed on the last piece of bread and washed it down with some wine.
The attic was surprisingly warm for mid-winter, I suppose the intense sun had warmed the western side of the house. Wine and thought had exhausted me so I snuggled into my cocoon for a nap. I may have fallen asleep easily, however the act of sleep was anything but. Dreams battered my subconscious mind. One specific dream was particularly unsettling.
I was walking through a verdant forest when I heard my name being called. There appeared to be no obvious source for the mellifluous voice, yet it kept calling to me to come and find it. At one point I thought I had located the voice behind a large rock. When I checked the rock's backside, it morphed into the face of a disfigured, rotting head. The head smiled broadly at me revealing a host of maggots feasting within its flesh.
I did not have the presence to scream but boy did I want to. A hand on my shoulder caused me to jump. I turned around to find Erik's jade eyes boring into me with a fiery opalescence.
"Gabrielle, where have you been, did you not hear me calling for you darling?" His voice lacked the harshness I would have expected from him. Instead it was calm, lilting and seductive.
Suddenly, as is often the way in dreams, we were devouring each other in feverish kisses. In the next instant we were on the forest floor using his cloak as a shield against the elements. I was moaning in ecstasy as Erik made love to me.
"How does it feel to have me inside of you feel Gabrielle? Do you like it? Tell me," he panted into my ear.
"Yes Erik, more I whimpered." It was exactly what I had wanted in that moment.
I opened my eyes to the face of my fiancé Tony.
"So Gabrielle," he sneered, are you enjoying fking someone else for a change? I know I've always enjoyed sexual variety. Good little Gabrielle, my faithful fiancée, well you're not so virtuous now are you sweetheart?"
"Get off of me Tony! Why are you hurting me you jerk-off?" I shrieked. He just laughed manically as I struggled to free myself from his grip. I had taken kickboxing lessons at the gym, but even those couldn't help me now.
The dream faded to darkness, then I was back in Erik's arms. He was attempting to comfort me and I was still thrashing and screaming, "Let me go!"
"Shhh, it's all right. Gabrielle, stop fighting me, I am not going to harm you. It's only Erik. Tranquillité mon cher," He intoned.
His voice was soothing and his arms were warm and comforting. I obeyed his request and calmed down. It was then that I realized the dream had ended.
Dreaming, I was merely dreaming. Thank the lord. I continued to hyperventilate and sweat, barely cognizant of the fact that Erik was comforting me.
The Phantom of the Opera had found my hidey-hole.
"My word Gabrielle, were you hoping to live up in my tower like a dark-haired Rupunzil? It's of no matter now; I was searching for you when I heard you screaming. It seems that you have been plagued by dreadful night-terrors darling."
He smoothed the damp hair from my face. I couldn't bring myself to stand, my dream had shaken me so, plus I was playing possum—pretending to be dazed and confused.
Playing the helpless maiden was not my modis operandi, but after what I had discovered in the tin trunk, I needed some downtime for processing, not confrontations.
I clung to Erik like a Limp Biscuit. He continued cooing soft reassurances over me as he carefully descended the stairwell. Eventually we reached my room where he threw back my linens with one hand and placed me on the bed. I was still wearing the flannel nightgown from two nights ago.
Erik drew the covers over me, making sure I was covered up to my neck. He then moved the Queen Anne's chair close to my bedside and sat.
"Gabrielle, he whispered, I am a $hit. I forget that you know not how to conduct yourself at times. We are from worlds as different as those inhabited by Frija and the despicable Hades. Forgive me for my insensitivity. As a man of keen intelligence, I should realize such things and exercise patience when confusion arises between us."
He began murmuring a calming lullaby in an unfamiliar language. I slipped into an easy, dreamless sleep.
- o -
Morning grew into afternoon as I slept away another winter day. I marveled when no one, namely the insistent Mdm. Roux didn't come rapping at my door.
Who was handling the cooking, I wondered? Had Erik had covered for me by claiming that I was incredibly ill, so ill in that I should not be disturbed?
I didn't care. My head was throbbing. "Crap-ola," I groaned, pushing my head deeper into the down pillow.
If only I could cause myself to disappear, except I lacked the power to spirit myself to and from at will, because if I did, I'd be back in Chicago arguing with my beloved.
Time for a reality-check Gab—if this is your real life, then you had better face it now, or go drown yourself in the Seine.
I pulled my worn body from the bed, wrapped the coverlet around me and drug my carcass to the window. From M.Roux point of view the winter had been a mild one, but today an inch or more of snow kissed the ground.
Nothing except shades of gray as far as I can see. Isn't it ironic. I made puffs of fog on the cold glass with my breath.
A stark realization hit me as I turned from the window; if I were to get along in this place and time, I would have to stop pretending that I was not different from others. Learning to conduct myself approximately among this world's inhabitants would benefit me greatly. Erik was often surely which could make approaching him unpleasant, but I knew I had to confront him about my behavior. I must put aside my pride and fear to ask for his guidance.
After dressing, I made my way down stairs. It was near mid-afternoon and M. Roux would have already returned from the post office. Erik would be in the library sorting through his mail.
There he sat at his great mahogany desk in front of the room's only window. The natural light was just enough for him to sort and read his mail by without further illumination.
Erik's elegant form was turned away from me affording a view of his broad back and a partial view of the left side of his face. He was an arresting sight in his dark clothes, hair and features. There was something about him that pulled me in, as if I lingered too long in his presence, I would come under his spell.
"Good morning Monsieur," I spoke politely as I stood in the doorway.
His lifted his head from the mail and he turned to get a better look at me. "I believe it is now afternoon Gabriel," his voice was neither warm nor formidable
"May I enter?"
"Be my guest," he motioned for me to enter, but not to sit.
With my hands clasped behind my back I began my plea," Erik, your toleration of me in your home has not gone unappreciated. I am sure you think me to be a crude and unrefined woman. I realize that my words, demeanor and attitude can be vexing to you. I often laugh a little too loud, speak out of turn and in-approiately; I may seem a terrible flirt, which I am not. I simply like people and I genuinely enjoy the company of men as friends. You see in my world, women are more independent and less reliable on men for their livelihood than your ladies are. I am not accustomed to being dependant on others for survival. I loathe it."
"You see, my mother split—left that is, when I was very young. Dad was a terrific parent, but he was preoccupied with his work so I learned early to fend for myself. I learned to speak up for myself, to push forward and not look back. I now find myself in a position where my methods of survival are no longer valid. This realization is very difficult for me."
Erik remained silent, simply eying me calmly as I continued.
"Erik, I...really, really need your help," I nervously bit my lower lip.
"This time may well be my new reality. I could live out the rest of my days from this point in 1876. Difficult as that is to face, I will not, cannot submit to despair. I need to survive and I need you to show me how. Show me what to do and what not to do, Believe it or not, I do possess manners and have the ability to get along in polite society, but that is 2005. This is well, definitely not."
With one hand, he stroked his chin and part of the mask with an air of consideration then turned completely around to face me, leaning one elbow on his desk.
He gave a light laugh, "Gabriel, you want me to guide you in the ways of this world?" You have chosen a formidable teacher my dear."
Footnotes:
Tranquillité mon cher: Quiet my dear. Frija is a Norse goddess. She knows the fates of all men and gods, although she does not desire to prophesy. Goddess of settled civilization, she represents married sexuality. She is the Goddess sun symbolism, and is an aspect of fate.
The cat's out of the bag, but the fun has just begun.
Please let me know what you think. And thanks for the reviews my lovies. - Leesainthesky