Thanks for Being patient! I just wanted to get in a little bit from Erik's perspective! Maybe I'll alternate POV to kinda give them both a chance to voice what happens... I don't know. Let me know how you like it, R & R!!!
I own nothing but my imagination and Bella!!
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To say I was a wreck when Christine left would be a severe underestimation. I became a monster, a bipolar being. I tore apart the entire place after the search party had left. I physically had to restrain myself so that I wasn't tempted to chase after her and kill the horrible whelp she had the audacity to choose over me. I left for hours at a time, slaughtering criminals of the most terrible sort. Rapists, murderers, child abusers, kidnappers, they all became my prey. Night after night I had devised excruciating means of torture and murder. I covered my face and bought mass quantities of alcohol, infusing my rage and numbing my pain.
Then I died. Physically I decayed little by little, refusing nourishment for weeks at a time, Mentally, Emotionally, Psychologically I had given up all thought hope and effort. From every angle I had perished. Because I was not eating, and was barely drinking, I didn't have to stand or move at all to use the bathroom. I alternated between drunken rage and vigilante murders, to trying to starve and numb myself to death. The only thing that kept me from giving in to my suicidal strike against the world's cruelty was Bella.
If she hadn't cut her finger, I might have died right there. I had nothing to live for, or at least, that was what I thought was the case. I had forgotten her. She must have been in her room for hours, maybe a day even before I realized she even existed.
She woke me up briefly. I would never wish my daughter harm, but she might have died down there if she hadn't sliced her finger so deeply. It forced me into action. It made me react immediately. It made me show myself to Madame Giry. And even though I was still dead inside, I no longer considered suicide an option. Who was I that I should take the life of such an innocent girl with my death? She had no way to escape the lair, and Madame Giry certainly couldn't take her in, she would have to cease all production and ballet teaching. That would put the whole opera in ruin. That simply couldn't be allowed. So I kept myself alive. Barely. I still left for long periods of time to take out my anger and pain on far less innocent individuals. I to this day am not sure if she knows I killed more than four people a week, or that the people I killed were not innocent bystanders, but serial killers, like myself, and vile lechers like the one who had tried to prey on her so many years ago. But I had to leave. Every night I still dreamed of her. I couldn't cope, I couldn't stay alive much longer in that place before I would take my life or take out something on poor Bella. So we left. I borrowed a carriage from Madame Giry and moved us to an old property that I had retained through means I shall not disclose here. There were still a lot of problems, but because I was separated from the ability to kill and drink uncontrollably, I was forced to find other ways to cope. I sat there day after day for years on end, waiting for something to click, for something to break me open so I could move on. It never came, not until Bella was nine or ten. Not until I heard her voice for the first time since it had grown. There was potential in that voice, even as she half hummed in her room. It made me think. I had to hear it again. I had too. It made me forget, for even just a moment, I felt alive again...
=) Ha ha! scared you with the title a bit, huh? lol! Thanks for Reading! Next chapter's on it's way!