Special thanks to Not A Ghost3 and my guest reviewer - this chapter is for you guys.
Standard disclaimers apply.
It is hardest in the dark.
Of course, it's always dark underground. She hasn't seen the sun in weeks. Doesn't want to. It burns, leaving guilt molten in its wake. But during the day there are candles, during the day he is there. He keeps the nightmares at bay. Ghosts can't walk where angels are singing. He sings for her, if only under his breath.
She hasn't sang since before that night.
But at night he refuses to stay with her, disappears somewhere that only he can go and leaves her alone in the darkness of her room. He's deaf to her begging, shakes his head sadly and slips away. She doesn't know why he leaves her. She's his now.
There's no one else for her to go to.
But he leaves, and she's left to the horrors of her memories.
Raoul visits her most nights. He is pale and translucent, a skeletal smile on his face. A ghastly grimace. It's funny that he and Erik have almost swapped appearances, at least in her mind, after that night. But he cannot help that he is dead, cannot help what becomes of his body now that it is separated from his soul.
It is not his fault.
He never blames her, as she blames herself. Just holds her close — though she doesn't want to be held — and whispers to her. He tells her of the life they would have had. The children. The parties. The trips around the world. Sometimes she finds herself wanting it, missing what can now never be. She would have made a good vicomtesse, he tells her, and she believes him. For a while.
But she wouldn't have. Really, she was lucky she had the chance to escape.
Lucky she was not killed, too, that night.
Sometimes he tries to pick up where he left off, and she wakes gagging and out of breath. She tries to picture Erik instead, relying on memories where imagination fails. How she wishes her imagination would fail her in other ways.
Sometimes the faces blend together. Sometimes it is Erik above her instead of Raoul, though his eyes do harbor stabbing accusation. Sometimes it is neither of them, just a faceless entity of darkness. That's all she deserves. She was so very horrible to both of them, to both of the men who loved her despite the fact that she was not worthy.
And now, it seems, she is damned to have neither.
"Does it ever go away?" she asks Erik one morning. He glances at the dark circles under her eyes and knows what he means.
"I have never lost someone so close to me," he whispers. Shrugs, helpless. "I don't know."
But he does. Oh, he must. For if he doesn't understand her now, all is truly lost.
Is anyone else out there? Liking this? Not liking this? Feeling a little discouraged here . . . And reviews are confidence boosters!
Much love,
KnightNight