Chapter Six -
Antoinette stood in the Managers' office watching as Raoul paced throughout the room, her eyes drifted to his young fiancée who was sitting in the desk chair behind the desk, ringing her hands nervously. As she looked on at the scene, she could not help but be reminded of another scene that had happened in this very room. A scene where Raoul convinced Christine to turn against Erik, a scene that had destroyed everything and set them down a path of death and destruction. She hoped that this scene ended in a better tone than the last.
"Why did you not inform anyone that that monster had returned?" Raoul demanded from her and Antoinette had to stop herself from inform the Vicomte that Erik was many things, but a monster he was not.
"I had informed someone." She informed them looking straight at Christine. "What that someone did with that information was up to them." Everyone else turned their eyes towards the young woman who began to fidget even more.
"You knew he was back?" Raoul asked, walking over to Christine and kneeling before her, gently taking her hands in his, as he had done the last time. "Why did you not tell me?"
"I did not think-" Christine started only to cut herself off and start again. "He has already lost so much, this is his home just as much as, if not more than, it was mine. I did not think that after everything we went through, that he went through, that he would bother anyone."
"Oh Christine," Raoul sighed disappointedly, as if speaking to a child of 13 rather than his fiancée of 18 years. Antoinette narrowed her eyes and perched her lips together to keep her thoughts of his treatment of Christine to herself. Thought Christine could be naive, like a child, she was no longer a child and need not be treated as such, especially not by the man she chose to call her fiancé.
"This man is insane. He does not see logic the way any sane person would. Moreover, he has returned to his manipulative ways. He has made himself believe that this young woman is you returned to him." Raoul said but Antoinette had to disagree. She had read the note Erik had given the Vicomte, it clearly stated that he knew that Christine Dexler was not Christine Daeé.
"We must save this young woman from his manipulations. You, my dear Christine, are the only person that can save her. You are the only one here who knows how it feels to be manipulated." Antoinette that Raoul had a way with words, spinning them into a web to catch his intended listener and help them see things his way. And Christine was his listener that had been caught.
"You are right, Raoul. This is my fault, I should be the one to help her. Had I alert you that the-" Christine appeared to catch herself from saying what she had been going to call Erik, "-that the Phantom had returned to the Opera Populair than this young woman would never have been caught in his manipulations."
"Thank you, my dear." Raoul said before bringing Christine's knuckles to his lips for a kiss. "Madame Giry," He said standing up and turning his attention to Antoinette, "please, go and fetch the young woman." How badly Antoinette wished to remind the Vicomte that the 'young woman' had a name and it would be polite to use it.
"Of course." Antoinette said with a slight bow. She turned and quickly left the room and began to head towards the dorms. How would Christine Dexler react? It was clear that once angered, the young woman spoke her mind, she proved that last night with her speech to the Vicomte.
Coming to Christine's room, Antoinette politely knocked on the door. After a minute of waiting, Antoinette heard the door unlock before slowly opening to show the shockingly blue eyes of Christine Dexler. "Madame Giry, to what do I owe the pleasure? Has Meg ripped her costume again?" Christine asked.
"No, my dear. I have been sent here to inform you that you have been summoned to the Managers' office." Antoinette informed her and watched as multiple emotions flew through the young woman's eyes before becoming guarded.
"I see." She said as she stepped out of her room and closing the door behind her. Christine looked at Antoinette and silently, yet politely, motioned for her to lead the way. Antoinette silently led the the young woman to the office where an ambush was waited, she wanted to warn the young woman but was there anything to warn her about? Would she comply with whatever the Vicomte was planning, or would she fight? Was there anything to fight?
Once they got to the office, Antoinette looked back at the young woman and couldn't help but marvel at how different yet same she was to Christine Daeé. With a sigh, Antoinette knocked on the office door before opening it and walked in with Christine Dexler behind her. She sensed Christine Dexler hesitate as she caught sight of Raoul.
"If this is about what I told the Vicomte, I will not apologize, I still stand by what I said and will always stand by it." Christine Dexler informed everyone.
"This has nothing to do with that, my dear." Raoul told her.
"Don't call me that. I am not your dear, nor will I ever be. What do you want?" Christine Dexler asked him and Antoinette saw Raoul's jaw tighten in annoyance before he forced a calm smile onto his face.
"Why don't you come in and take a seat." Raoul said, motioning to the empty seat in front of the desk that he was leaning on. Christine Dexler slowly walked in, shutting the door behind her, her eyes never leaving Raoul's, however she remained standing. "Please sit."
"I am perfectly fine standing." Christine Dexler told him crossing her arms while staring at him suspiciously. "Well, get on with it, I have shit to do." Raoul's jaw tightened once more as the two of them began to stare the other down. Tension began to feel the room, and if no one did anything to quell it, it would snap them in half.
"We fear that you may be being manipulated." Christine Daeé said dispelling the tension as Christine Dexler allowed her eyes to drift from Raoul to the young woman behind the desk.
"Who would be manipulating me, and why?" Christine Dexler asked in annoyance.
"A-a man." Christine Daeé told her.
"Who is this man? And why would he want to manipulate me?" Christine asked, her annoyance clearly rising.
"He is a man that may be pretending to be a Phantom, or even and Angel." Antoinette caught Christine Dexler rolling her eyes at that, interesting, did this young woman not believe in Angels? "When I was here, he manipulated me into thinking that he was an Angel of Music sent to me from heaven by my father. He had fallen in love with me and made himself believe that I was in love with him." Was that sympathy in Christine Dexler's eyes? Who was that sympathy for? "It was only because of Raoul here that I was able escape his manipulations." Christine Daeé finished and Christine Dexler watched her with an annoyed look before looking around the room before recollection flashed through her eyes.
"And now you all believe that because I look identical to you that this man has made himself believe that I am you come back to him?" Christine Dexler asked before laughing. "Well, sorry to burst your bubble, but I haven't seen any one pretending to be a 'Phantom' or and 'Angel of Music'. Not only that but I am not..." She paused for the correct word, "...naive enough to fall for that old trick. And for the record, Christine, Angels can't take corporeal form nor leave heaven without permission from God. It's Archangels that may go to and from heave with they wish to."
"You may night have actually seen him!" Christine Daeé cried, shooting up from her seat. "He moves in the walls by tunnels and hides himself! There is an entrance to one such tunnel behind the mirror in my-your room!" She began to move closer to Christine Dexler who began to back up. "Have you heard any voices coming seemingly from thin air?"
"I do not hear voices!" Christine Dexler angrily told her. Antoinette took note that that appeared to be a touchy subject. Had Christine Dexler been accused of hearing voiced that were not there before? "I have never heard voices!"
"You do not have to fear him! He will not harm you!" Christine Daeé told her urgently. She was pushing Christine Dexler to hard, and Antoinette could see that the young woman was either about to run or attack like a cornered animal.
"I am not afraid! There is nothing for me to be afraid of! I've answered your questions not I am leaving!" Christine Dexler all but yelled as she began to carefully move around Christine Daeé. Why was she afraid to touch the other young woman?
"Please! We're just trying to help you!" Christine Daeé cried and latched onto the other's arm. There was a flash of bright light, and then both of them cried out in pain. The young women were flung away from each other, Christine Daeé was quickly caught by Raoul while Christine Dexler hit the wall just below the portrait of the creator of the Theater and curled into a ball. No one knew what to do. No one knew what had even just happened.
It was silent for what felt like and eternity to Antoinette as she stared at the unmoving figure of Christine Dexler. Had she been knocked unconscious? Was she harmed? Should she go check on the young woman?
Antoinette jumped and nearly screamed at the dark and murderous look in Christine Dexler's eyes when she finally looked up to glare at Christine Daeé, who appeared to be waking from a faint. "You touch me again, and you will regret it. Leave me alone and you will live to see another day." With that as her last words, Christine Dexler vanished through a trap door.
\ '~' /
Christine Dexler held her burnt and blistering arm to her chest as she ran down the tunnel. What had just happened? What was that light? Why had it hurt so much? Was that what death was like? Had she almost died? Her soul hurt so much! How could her soul hurt? How did she even know that it was her soul hurting?
She came to a sliding stop when the man, the Phantom, the Angel, whatever the hell he was appeared in front of her. It was clear as day that this was the man that Christine had been speaking about. The two locked eyes and her heart began to beat faster. Was she scared? Was she excited? She didn't know.
She felt, more than saw, when his attention moved to the burnt arm cradled to her chest. She instinctively held it closer.
"Come." He ordered her before turning around and began to walk away. Something tugged at her soul to follow him, and she wanted to. Already, with him so near, the pain in her soul was easing. But he had to know if he saw her for her or for Christine. She would not accept his or anyone's attention, good or bad, if it was because she resembled someone else.
"I'm not her!" She yelled at him causing him to stop and look at her before he began to walk back over to her. Once he was right in front of her, his hand suddenly shot out and instinctively she closed her eyes and readied herself to be hit. She flinched when his leather clad hand gently touched her cheek, she opened her eyes to see him looking at her with an unknown emotion. Was that tenderness? It had been so long since she had had someone look at her with that look that she couldn't remember what it looked like.
"I am not Christine Daeé. If that is who you believe me to be, then I will walk away, never to return. I will not be a replacement." She told him firmly. Something was happening between them and it scared her, she didn't want to run from it, but if she was just going to be a replacement then she would. Her body began to quiver as he began to lean his face closer to hers, she squeezed her eyes closed. She kept them closed as she felt his lips glide across her cheek towards her left ear and gasped at the sensation. What was this? What was happening? Should she stop it? Did she want to stop it?
"If you were Christine Daeé you would be dead by now." He whispered into her ear, at his words tears that she hadn't realize that she was fighting back began to fall from her eyes. Why was she suddenly crying? Was she happy? Was she sad?
He took her by the wrist of her uninjured arm. "Come." He ordered once more before turning and leading her away. What had those words meant to her? What had he meant by those words? What did she want him to mean by those words?
At some point she had opened her eyes to watch him. Who was he? What was his name? Why was he here? Who was he to her? Who was she to him? What did she want to be? This was all so sudden. Maybe she shouldn't do this. Was she even doing anything? Did she want to do something? What was this something?
"You stupid piece of whore trash! That is all you will ever be!" Her mother's voice yelled in her mind.
"No. Not again." She whispered as she came to a complete stop.
"Go and spread your legs for this man you have never met before! That's all you know how to do!" She squeezed her eyes shut, pulled her arm from the man's grip and covered her ears as she curled into a ball.
"It's not real. She's not here. She can't hurt you anymore." She told herself as she began to rock back and forth.
"You know he doesn't care for you. He doesn't want you. He wants her. He looks at you and see's her. He'll never see you."
"Shut up. Shut up. Shut up." She cried.
"They all only see her. She left them all and you've replaced her. You are the replacement."
"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" She screamed as she began to hit the side of her head trying to shut the voices up.
"You are nothing. You will never be anything. Why even try. You know this is true. You are a burden to everyone around you."
"STOP IT! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!" Her hand was caught in a firm yet gentle grasp. Her eyes opened only to get caught in the worried amber eyes of the man. He reached out and gently caressed her hair with his other hand before pulling her close to him. The voices went silent. "I'm not her. I'm not her. I'm me, not her. I'm me, not her." She cried into his shoulder.
"I know." He told her as he ran his fingers through her hair, the hand that held her wrist never loosened.
"I'm not her. I'm not her. I'm me. I'm not her." Was she trying to convince him of this or herself?
"You are not her. You are your own person." He told her and she nodded.
"I am my own person." She agreed. He released her wrist and it dropped to her side, all over her energy gone. As if sensing this, the man shifted her so that he could easily take her into his arms as he stood up. It was silent as he carried her down the tunnel, the only sound around them was the sound of his soft footsteps.
"It's silent." She muttered, he did not respond. "The voices are silent." She felt him glance at her before he went back to watching where he was going. "Why are they silent?"
"Did you not wish for them to be silent?" He asked. She took a moment to think. Had she wanted them silent?
"I always want them to be silent. But they never listen. They are always there, whispering. It is strange for them to be silent." She told him, he did not answer her. "Will I get used to the silence?"
"I do not know." He told her, they had begun to descend some steps now. Should she ask where he was taking her? Did it really matter? She was tired. She closed her eyes and allowed his movements to lull her to sleep.
Edited: 6/4/2020