HELLO ALL. An update on a Wednesday, as promised. Please, don't kill me. You'll know why when you read the chapter.
SilverJackel-V: The interwebs do not like my story D: And thank you! I enjoy humor :D
SammiRichGurl: WAAAHHH! I KNOW :D And every time I type your username, I always wonder if you're actually rich or not. Or if your name is Sammi.
TheRabidWriter: ITS OKAY I GUESS. I mean, I guess I can forgive you. I guess. And thanks :P
PanicAtTheEpicness: Wow, I can't believe that I inspired you. Good luck! I hope you do really well! And by the way, I'm really, really sorry about this chapter if you are getting like hyperventilation about cliff hangers...
TheIdesofMarch: I actually explained it in a past chapter... I forget which on, but look back and he explains it in a story he tells.
13sapphire13: Oh gawd. Uh, well... Let's say he doesn't back off very much.
RedDeathLvr: Creepy Doug is creepy. Auehehehehee
goodie58: Hahaha... Ha... Ha. What? Lolz
I don't like the steps I took
To get to look into your deepest feelings
But I don't like the place I'm in
Head space within the hardwood and the ceiling
'Cause if I'm restless then why do I
I want nothing but to rest my soul?
And I don't get this and I know why
You see some things are just beyond control
And I feel fine
But I know the same does not apply to you
I know the same does not apply to you
So I guess that I'll curl up and die, too
Clinging to the remnants of perfection
Like most do after they break it
Not knowing which directions the correct one
Do I discard or remake it?
'Cause if I don't know then I don't know
But I may know someone who knows me more than I
And if I somehow could rest this soul
Maybe control can find it's way back to my life
And I feel fine
But I know the same does not apply to you
Yeah, I know the same does not apply to you
So I guess that I'll curl up and die, too.
Yeah, I'll curl up with you until I die with you
Yeah, I'll curl up with you until I die with you
Yeah, I'll curl up with you until I die with you
Yeah, I'll curl up with you, my baby
Yeah, my darling until I die with you
Yeah, I'll curl up with you until I die with you
-Curl up and Die, Relient K
"Erik, do you believe in heaven?" Abigail asked.
Erik paused, eyes locked on his page from the book he was reading. He felt Abigail squirm slightly from her position in his lap, realizing that the question may have been a bit too personal. He frowned, looking down at his little pianist. Erik had never considered the question before. He had been to hell, that he was almost certain. However, did that mean that there was a heaven? Shutting his book, he laid it on the ground beside him, and wrapped his arms around Abigail's small form.
"I have never considered it before." He replied honestly.
"Well, consider it now." She said.
Erik shrugged, knowing Abigail would feel the motion, her back pressed against his chest. Abigail twisted and squirmed until she sat facing Erik, her legs wrapping around his waist and her arms around his neck.
Her misty eyes locked with his; how she was able to do it, Erik was still unsure. He searched her face, finding a serious and hopeless feeling.
"What's wrong?" he asked, confused.
"I want to believe in heaven, but I can't if you do not belong in it."
This shocked Erik. How could she be thinking of these things? He shook his head, "Abigail, I cannot die. Why think of this? Now, of all times? You should be busy worrying about what you will be wearing tomorrow."
"The play can wait, Erik." She said, smoothing back his hair, "I've been thinking about this for awhile now. What happens when you do die?"
"How are you sure that will ever happen?"
"There is something different about you now."
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"You… feel different. I don't know how to describe it. You're softer. A bit more… I don't know. Warm."
Erik glanced over at a mirror. He took a long look at himself. Even from this distance, he had to admit, he did look healthier. His skin looked less pale. He had always avoided looking in the mirror, and what would have probably been a more gradual change looked more drastic and sudden. Erik wanted to laugh.
"Well, I do look just as dashing as before." He said sarcastically, rubbing at his deformities. Erik had not worn the mask on the island for awhile.
Abigail turned his face back towards her, and placed a small kiss on his lips. Just as she was about to pull away, Erik grabbed the back of her head, trapping her there. He felt her smile, and, taking this as a good sign, he deepened the kiss.
He loved kissing Abigail. It made his heart race. Over the past few weeks, Erik had slowly moved further and further with Abigail. While most of their time had been spent with furthering his education, he made sure that they both increased their knowledge of each other.
Physically, to be specific.
They were both quite awkward, neither of them having much practice before hand. Abigail had never kissed someone, let alone done much else. Erik had locked himself away for hundreds of years. The last thing on his mind was physical education. So, things had taken off quite slowly.
Of course, they had the kissing thing down to an art by the first week after they had shared their first. However, that quickly grew boring, and soon Erik was exploring different things to do with this new willing female. Abigail had to explain the "bases" to him. In fact, he had no idea what they even were when the conversation had even come up.
"You know, this whole first base thing, it's going to need to change." Abigail said out of the blue.
Erik looked up at her from the other side of the table. He was forcing himself to eat an apple, and she had been happily munching away at a bowl of cereal.
"What?" he asked.
"First base. We are stuck there." She said clearly.
"Base? First?"
"You don't know the bases?" she asked, quite stunned.
"No." Erik replied bluntly.
"Well," Abigail said, putting down her spoon and folding her hands, "It's basically the different levels of… Uh, intimacy. It's like the different bases in baseball."
"Oh." He said, thankful Abigail could not see his face growing the color of his apple.
"Yeah… Well, first base is like, kissing and stuff… Second… Uh, heavy petting. Third." She sat there for a moment, deep in thought, "How about you just look this up on your own."
So he did. Once Abigail was asleep, he slipped off outside and went to the only place he knew that could get him information. The library. Erik used a public computer, and after much difficulty, he had found what she meant.
He deleted the browsing history.
After gaining knowledge, they had a bit more fun with each other. However, while exploring all of the "bases", neither of them had suggested the "home run". Erik wasn't exactly sure why.
But enough of that. Abigail had broken the kiss, and her face was serious again.
"Do you?" she repeated
"Do I what?"
"Believe in heaven." She said simply.
Erik frowned, rubbing her back slowly, unsure of how to respond.
"Well," he said, "I suppose there is a possibility that there is a world out there where those deserving go to live out the rest of eternity. Whether or not it is heaven, I do not know."
Abigail frowned in concentration, "Do you think that wherever the place is, or whatever the place is, I'll be able to go there?"
"Without a doubt." He replied, grabbing her hands and squeezing them.
"Will you be there too?"
He did not reply.
Abigail's lower lip quivered. Erik sighed and brushed back a bit of her hair. If this was anyone else, he would have murdered them by now for annoying him. But that was against his manners now, right?
"Abigail, really, why are you bringing this up? This is so unlike you."
"I don't know. I…. Oh, I just feel like… I don't know." She sighed, "I feel like we should talk about this before you're revealed tomorrow. I mean, you never know what could happen."
"I see."
He watched her for a moment, realizing the truth behind this. Neither of them knew what would happen once she started introducing him to people as a long lost phantom that lived under the opera house. Would they deem Abigail and him mad? Would they arrest them? Throw them in a loony bin? Or perhaps they would be shunned, ignored by society? He shuddered at the thought of being even more secluded than he already was. He sighed.
"Abigail… I believe that whatever happens, you will be safe and peaceful. Whether or not I am with you does not matter."
"I want it to matter." She said, "I won't be safe or happy or peaceful without you."
"Why?"
"Because I love you." She sniffed.
Erik watched a tear slide down her cheek. He wiped it away slowly, tilting her cheek up, "How can you love a beast like me?"
"You are no beast to me." She said grabbing at his shirt, "You have changed so much. We are so alike."
"I have changed because you transformed me."
"You would never have changed if you did not want to."
He could not deny it.
"Abigail?" he asked
"Yes?" she replied
"I have something written. A song. I started writing it when you first came here. I want you to hear it."
"Okay." She said with a small smile.
"There is only one problem." He said, lifting her to her feet, "It's a duet."
"Who will play the other part?"
"You will. Tomorrow. After the play. I will teach you your part today, and we will play it tomorrow together."
Abigail's face lit up at the idea of new music, "Alright!" she cheered, rushing over to the piano.
Erik chuckled at the sight. She was so innocent, so full of life. Abigail was perfect. He walked up behind her, and began to teach her the notes.
Abigail brushed a hand over the dress. She desperately wanted to be able to truly see it rather than picture it in her mind. Instead, she closed her eyes to the world, and began to paint a picture. The dress was a bright red, strapless, and went down to her ankles. It had overlapping red layers with a black edge to them. At the bottom, there was black lace underneath the red fabric. Abigail smiled, knowing what a big hit it would make tonight. The Opera House would demand nothing less from the Phantom's date.
She slipped it on, careful not to wake Erik sleeping beside her. Abigail wanted Erik to wake up to her wearing it. After slipping on a pair of simple black heels, she quietly clicked her way over to where she knew a mirror was. Abigail sighed, gazing into the night, knowing she was staring at herself. Her hair was done in a gentle yet messy bun behind her. Adjusting the dress slightly, she heard movement from the swan bed behind her.
Turning around, Abigail heard a sharp gasp. She smiled, picturing the look on Erik's face. A long silence followed, Abigail patiently waiting for Erik's eyes to stop devouring her.
"You look… Stunning, Abigail."
"Thank you!" she replied happily, "I was hoping for that effect."
"You have completely outdone me."
"What? You haven't even gotten dressed yet." She asked a little confused.
"I have a gift, though." She heard him say. After a bit of rustling, she felt something slide onto her finger, "There. Now, you are perfect."
"Why did you give me a ring?"
"It is mine. I want you to wear it."
"You're not proposing to me, are you?" she asked a little wearily.
"Only if you want me to." He said, completely serious.
Abigail felt the ring. It was cold and smooth, "What does it look like?"
"It is a black circle."
She smiled. It fit him. The ring was a bit loose on her though, but she would make sure it stayed on.
"Thank you Erik. I love it." She said, reaching a hand out to him. He took it, pulling her to him.
"I love you."
"Oh, don't be a romantic and get ready. I already hear people coming in upstairs."
Doug was running late. He was out a little longer than he had expected to last night. But preparations had to be made.
He threw his dirty black outfit in the trash, as well as several tools. He would not need them any longer. Doug looked at his watch. He had only an hour to get to where he had to be. Hurry, hurry, hurry.
Doug looked down at himself. He was wearing a classic black tux, black shoes. He had a red rose tucked into the breast pocket. His hair was gelled down, his face cleaned and shaven. After making sure not a speck of dirt had found its way onto him, he grabbed the small box from the table, unlocked it, and pulled out the silver gun. He stared at it for a moment, unsure.
Go, go, go! NOW!
He shook his head, and began to load the gun. Doug slipped his weapon in the holder underneath the jacket, covered it, and marched out of the garage.
It took almost half an hour to get to the Opera House with all of the traffic. However, he managed to slip by the long line of people waiting to get inside, and found his way to the sketchiest staircase he could find. After following it up, he found himself in the upper deck of the Opera House, level with the crew members working on the backdrops. Doug kept low, low enough so that the workers would not see him, and made his way to the side of the upper level, making sure he was directly across from Box 5 and still had a view of the stage.
Doug watched people begin to file into their seats, almost laughing at their idiocy.
Fools.
Erik took her Abigail's hand. He wore a completely black tux, red tie, and a white rose. And yet, he was nothing compared to Abigail still. How could he, standing beside this beauty? Erik led her up the stairs and through the secret passage to Box 5. It had been left open, due to the lack of tickets available to be purchased for it.
Of course, Erik had nothing to do with that. Nothing at all.
Just as they were about to step out into the open, Erik placed a black mask over his face, an fastened it in.
Erik pulled open the curtain. Hundreds of excited conversations met his ears, and he was practically blinded by the hundreds of bright lights eliminating the grand hall. A smile grew on his face; memories of all of the different plays he had witnessed from Box 5 came flying back. He looked down at Abigail. She had a large smile on her face.
"I can't wait to hear Aimee sing!" she said happily.
"I'm sure she will do just fine." He said. The thought of listening to his agonizing tale did not bother him in the slightest. He had a much better prize than the woman that Abigail's friend would be portraying.
But, he knew that he would never think whoever playing her would quite match up to her. Ever.
Ignoring this thought, Erik led Abigail to her seat. After sitting down beside her, Erik began to describe the Opera House to her in complete detail, ranging from the large painting on the roof to the people sitting below them. She oohhed and ahhhed at his words, and he could not help but feel happy as they sat there, peacefully waiting for the play to begin.
He felt like he was in heaven. The woman he loved beside him, and entertainment at their fingertips.
However, he could not shake the feeling of being… Watched.
Doug could not believe his eyes. Abigail… It was Abigail! Sitting there, just across the hall from him! She was beautiful; no. She was an angel, sent from heaven just for him. All Doug could see was Abigail, her hair, her form, her body… Her hand holding someone else's.
What?
Doug looked over. A man sat with her. Who was this beast, this stain upon humanity? Wait! What is this? A mask? It could only be…
No. That is simply impossible. Never in a million years would Abigail be holding that hand. Only his would she wish to hold. Not…
No. He would not even think the name. Did he even have a name? No, of course not. Devils did not get names.
He clenched and unclenched his hand. Doug wanted Abigail. Now. She was so close. All he had to do was…
The lights grew low. A man walked out, and began a speech.
Doug cursed. He needed time, not this. Perhaps…
He was distracted by Abigail laughing. She playfully hit the man next to her, and he gave her a sly grin.
He knew that grin.
No.
Anger grew within him. Suddenly, an entire sea of hate began to flow within his veins. Doug grabbed the gun from its hiding place, and pointed it at the thing. The devil.
The Phantom.
But… He could not simply just shoot him now. No… No, that was not the plan. Yes, yes, he needed to wait.
Doug pulled the gun back, but kept it pointed at the disgusting creature seated next to the imprisoned angel.
He would wait.
"And now, the moment you have all been waiting for… Ladies and gentlemen, boy and girls, I give you… The Phantom of the Opera!"
Roaring applause. Cheers. Yells. Aimee was frozen. What was she to do? What was her first line? She flew around, and ran directly into Drew's stomach.
He grabbed her shoulders and shook her as he said, "AIMEE. You got this." He said as the first actors went outside, "What's wrong?"
"I just saw my friends." She cried, throwing a thumb up in the direction of Box 5.
Drew let her go, peeked around the curtain, and came back, "Well, that's great Aimee. Why is that so scary?"
"You don't understand how complicated it is with Doug."
"But Doug isn't here."
"Yes, he is. I can tell." She said shivering.
Drew grabbed her face in his hands, "Aimee. You are not Aimee tonight. You are Christine."
Aimee's eyes widened.
"Yes. You are Christine." Drew repeated, "You don't know who those people are up there. All you know is your story. Right?"
Aimee nodded slowly, erasing her mind of everything but the play. She understood what she had to do. Drew was not Drew. She was not Aimee. Her name was Christine, and the man before her was her Phantom.
She heard applause from the crowd.
"You're up, Christine." The Phantom said.
She nodded slowly, turned around, and began to dance.
"Oh, she's wonderful." Abigail cried as she listened to Aimee sing Think of Me. She turned her head to Erik, a smile consuming her face.
"She is lovely." He replied, slightly distracted. Abigail assumed he was concentrated on the play, so she turned her attention back to listening to her friend sing.
Flowers fades,
The fruits of summer fade,
They have their seasons, so do we
but please promise me, that sometimes
you will think of me!
The audience roared in approval. Abigail stood, following Erik's lead that a standing ovation was being done. Tears of happiness flowed from her dead eyes; Aimee had done it perfectly. All she felt was pride for her friend. Abigail could not have been happier, sitting here, listening to her best friend perform her heart out, sitting next to the man she loved.
She was in heaven.
Something was wrong. Deeply, deeply wrong.
Erik's eyes scanned the crowd. Something was off. It didn't feel right. Those eyes… He felt them trained on him. But whose? Everyone was staring at Christine as she was being seduced by the imitation of himself through the famous mirror.
Why did he feel as though something was wrong, when everything felt so perfect?
Erik looked at Abigail. She seemed happy. But, more than happy. She was not worried. Why should he ruin this moment? He tried to relax, settling deeper in his chair.
It did not help.
He sighed in frustration.
"What's wrong?" Abigail asked. He looked over and saw she no longer had a smile on her face, but a look of worry. He grew angry at himself for interrupting her happiness.
"Nothing, love." He said, giving her a small kiss, "I'm enjoying the play."
"Oh!" she said, her face lighting up again, "Alright." And she turned her attention back to her friend, now passing out in fear of the fake Phantom on the stage.
Doug slammed his fist into the wall.
They kissed.
They KISSED.
Kissed.
He wanted to throw up. He wanted to die.
No, he wanted to kill.
She did not hesitate to kiss him back. Abigail liked this disgusting thing. How? How could she?
Doug had loved her. But now, somehow, it all seemed different. How could he love her now, seeing such a thing? She was no angel. She was no goddess.
She was an imp, a filthy little snake. How deceiving of her to have dragging him this long! She knew he loved her! She did this on purpose! Abigail was trying to torture him, destroy him from the inside out, just like Aimee! But no, he would not have this. Never again.
All of them were guilty. All of them would pay. Nobody would take a shot at HIM and get away with it.
Doug unlocked the safety on his gun.
We have all been blind
And yet the answer is staring us in the face
This could be the chance
To ensnare our clever friend
We're listening
Go on.
We shall play his game
Perform his work, but remember we hold the ace
For if Miss Dae sings
He is certain to attend
We are certain the doors are barred
We are certain the police are there
We are certain they're armed.
The curtain falls.
His reign will end!
Doug's breaths began to get heavy. Perhaps he should not do this.
No.
They deserved it. He would not fail.
But which? Who was more guilty?
He twisted the gun in his sweaty hands, contemplating this new question.
Christine was on the stage. She glanced to Raoul for aid. He waved for the police.
Doug's eyes were glued on the disgustingly happy couple across from him. Tears were flowing down his face.
Why, why, why.
Abigail… Why.
And then anger.
The disgusting pig, the filthy demon! He stole her from Doug, he took her away! He jammed the gun in the devil's direction.
And then, Abigail took his hand.
She kissed it.
It smiled at her lovingly.
Doug wanted to run. He wanted to hide. Anywhere but here.
He dropped to the ground in sobs. His free hand tore at his hair, grabbed at his heart. Doug wanted to tear it out of his chest, he wanted to throw it at them, make them stare at its dead figure.
No, no, no…
Doug grit his teeth and looked back at them.
They were kissing, holding each other. It was pure happiness.
It disgusted him. He shook his head, a few tears shaking off his chin.
Boom.
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I'M .
Don't kill me. Puhlease. I'll get the next chapter out as soon as I can :P REVIEW! I WANT REACTIONS!