Chapter Three: The Phantom's Night Music
The Angel seized Christine's hand in a tight grip and led her down a dark hallway. His hand was strong and large, larger than she imagined.
He guided her to an open-aired space next to a lake. A breeze rushed past them, making Christine shiver. Her thin dressing gown did not offer much warmth.
She heard the sound of a match striking, and presently a small lantern lit the catacombs. The Angel turned, showing himself to her for the first time.
The first thing Christine noticed was his white mask, glowing eerily in the candlelight. It covered half his face, making her conjecture what he concealed. The rest of his face was normal. His perfectly combed hair was dark, and his tuxedo was in immaculate condition.
He held out his hand to her. "Come with me," he whispered. She walked forward as if in a dream and slid her hand into his. He helped her into a gondola-like boat and stood on the stern, directing the craft with a long pole. It was almost completely silent for the duration of the voyage. Christine spoke only once.
"What is your name?"
"Erik," he answered. "Erik."
He docked the gondola next to a fantastic, mesmerizing place.
Christine's first impression was that thousands of candles filled the lair. Looking closer, she saw other things. An organ, covered with scores of music. A full-length mirror sheltered with a sheet. A throne-like cathedra. A musical box, with a monkey balanced on the cover.
Erik helped her out of the gondola and walked to the organ. Playing a few notes, he said in a convincing, alluring voice, "Sing for me." Christine opened her lips and began to vocalize. The sound that came out was like nothing she had ever heard or made herself. It was powerful and terrible and stunning all at once.
"Sing, my angel of music," Erik whispered. She sensed, rather than felt, her voice go higher and higher until she was singing a C— two octaves above middle C. "Sing for me!"
Then her voice went to the peak of her range: an E, two octaves above middle C.
It scared her, knowing that Erik had somehow made her voice reach that note, and she broke off. "Christine…" Erik left the organ and came closer to her, but she backed away. He looked frustrated, thinking hard. Then he seemed to light onto a thought.
He began to sing.
Nighttime sharpens, heightens each sensation.
Darkness wakes and stirs imagination.
Silently the senses abandon their defenses,
Helpless to resist the notes I write…
For I compose the Music of the Night.
His voice was captivating, surrounding Christine like mist.
Slowly, gently, night unfurls its splendor
Grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender
Erik came close to her and stroked her hair back from her shoulder. He put his hand under her chin and gently lifted it up, staring into her eyes.
Hearing is believing, music is deceiving
Hard as lightning, soft as candlelight…
Dare you trust the Music of the Night
Close your eyes,
For your eyes will only tell the truth,
And the truth isn't what you want to see
In the dark it is easy to pretend
But the truth is what it ought to be
Softly, deftly
Music shall caress you
Hear it, feel it, secretly possess you
He beckoned Christine forward, to the open gate. If it were closed, it would have blocked half of his lair. With a flick of his hand, Erik drew the gate down.
Open up your mind
Let your fantasies unwind
In this darkness which you know you cannot fight
The darkness of the Music of the Night
Then his tender demeanor changed into anger. Erik began to walk nearer to her, making her back away. Christine somehow knew he was thinking about Raoul. Erik wanted her to forget Raoul, and live for only him. She averted her gaze.
Close your eyes, start a journey through a strange new world
Leave all thoughts of the world you knew before
Close your eyes and let music set you free
Erik's voice grew gentle and pleading again.
Only then can you belong to me…
Erik came behind her and put his arm across her collarbone, resting her head in the crook of his arm. Christine raised her hand and touched his face, letting it linger.
Floating, falling, sweet intoxication,
Touch me, trust me
Savor each sensation
He walked over to the mirror and pulled off the sheet. In the reflection, Christine saw herself dressed in a wedding dress and veil. Her skin started to crawl. This is what he wants.
Let the dream begin,
Let your darker side give in,
To the power of the music that I write
The power of the Music of the Night
Then her mirror-self moved, and everything blacked out.
Somehow, in a subconscious state, Christine heard Erik sing two more lines of the haunting song.
You alone can make my song take flight
Help me make the Music of the Night…