A/N: I don't know about in your neck of the woods but here in Southeast Ohio we are snowed in and now ice and more snow is coming down. I wished for more updates to the stories I am reading but only a couple had updates. The weather being what it is I feel like curling up with a book or sitting in front of my computer with a hot cup of tea reading about my favorite Phantom. So I thought others might feel the same so I am posting another chapter. Hope it fills a few minutes of your day. R&R as always.
Chapter Five
Night of Desperation
Erik took little notice of the new managers. They were pompous idiots. He found little to impress him about that young Raoul de Chagny either who came swaggering in announcing himself as the new patron. They would soon fall into rank and file or suffer the consequences. Erik would not admit his rancor toward the boy had more to do with his handsome appearance than any real animosity. At least until later.
Erik's attempts to frighten Carlotta into leaving of her own accord had been fruitless thus far. Erik's ire turned darker with each failure. The day the new managers arrived Erik decided he needed to become a little more persuasive. He untied the lines that held up a backdrop. It just barely missed flattening Carlotta with the heavy board the material was attached to. As it was only the cloth fell across Carlotta knocking her to the floor. Erik never could decide if he had intended to miss her or at the last minute he had miscalculated the angle of the falling backdrop.
Carlotta had quit only to be brought back by those two idiot managers Andre Firmin and Richard Moncharmin. It became clear to Erik that they knew nothing about the arts or talent. Greed was their guiding force not the fine quality of productions Erik wanted for his opera house.
When they discounted his notes as some sort of prank Erik smiled in a wicked fashion that would have caused concern in the very bravest of men. Erik began a campaign to win this and all skirmishes. When all was said and done nothing really changed. Erik would have his way or else.
He did manage to get Christine cast at last. Erik had been late arriving at his box when his ears had caught Christine singing her aria. He had been locked into place with the sweetness filtering down through the grates from the orchestra pit. Erik had closed his eyes, almost brought to tears with all the emotions soaring through him. This was his triumph. He had made this possible. This angel belonged to him. She was his creation.
He had come to the conclusion it had been long overdue to let Christine know exactly who her Angel of Music really was. For some time he had thought she no longer really believed him to be an angel but had allowed his deception to continue as she feared losing her teacher. Erik discounted the fact that this smacked of selfishness.
Erik had come for Christine as he planned after the performance. That damn boy had been there pounding on the door Erik had locked. When Christine had been about to open her door Erik called to her from behind the mirror.
Christine had begged his forgiveness. For the first time Erik and Christine had met face to face. She had looked at him with wonder in her eyes. No sign of fear had clouded her clear brown eyes. Erik had stretched out his hand to her. As if mesmerized, Christine had not hesitated to place her hand in his. Stupidly Erik thought it best not to have his murderous hands on her innocent skin thus he had worn his black leather gloves. He had cursed himself all the way to his boat for that little bit of stupidity. He could have touched her beauty for the first time flesh to flesh. Idiot!
All had gone well as Christine had accepted his caresses as he had sung to her. He had opened his heart to her then handed her his soul. The mannequin that bore a striking resemblance to Christine had been too much for her. Christine had fainted. Erik had placed her gently into his bed. He had chosen a black phoenix as he felt he had risen from the ashes of his childhood to become the all powerful Phantom.
Christine had slept peacefully for a few hours. Erik had played music he had composed as he had thought of Christine. Such euphoria had taken him beyond the boundaries of the opera house. He felt no longer chained to this dark dismal black hole. With Christine beside him her light must surely cast over his darkness to give him a bit of light.
That little prying Pandora, Christine, could not resist seeing what he hid underneath his mask. Under the delusion she had been going to caress his face Erik had been caught off guard when Christine had pulled off his mask.
The anger he felt at the betrayal by his angel poured out of him before he could control what he did or said. He had shoved her to the ground as he ranted on and on. Only when his anger had begun to dissipate had he felt shame for what he had done.
He wanted to beg her to forgive him. If he thought it would erase the last few minutes from her mind he would have crawled on his belly as he pleaded his cause. Alas he knew he had shown her who and what he really was, a monster, the demon he had always been called.
What had made him think someone so innocent, so pure would ever consider being with someone such as he? Erik wanted to howl in outrage against the world and against that perfect and handsome suitor, Raoul de Chagny.
Erik had calmed himself somewhat then returned Christine to Antoinette instructing her not to let anyone see or speak to Christine for the rest of the day. Erik had been sure Antoinette knew who specifically he meant to keep away from Christine.
Erik wanted Carlotta gone. The woman should not be allowed to open her mouth to speak let alone sing. He sent his notes to Carlotta, the new managers of his opera house, and that foppish young de Chagny boy. He made his demands clear. If they did as he wished all would be well. Jealousy had him warning that de Chagny fellow away from Christine. Erik would not lose Christine now just when she was ready to become the star he knew she could be and would be if Erik had his way.
The night of El Muto Erik lost what little reason he had left. The murder, for that was what it was, of Joseph Buquet had been the catalyst to Erik's beginning spiral into madness. The final straw had been witnessing Christine declare her love for that boy on the rooftop as Erik had stood hidden in the shadows as his heart had been pummeled by words from his angel's lips.
If those words of love had been said to Erik he would have rejoiced. All of Paris would have known he was loved. Alas her affections had been for Raoul.
He had stood helplessly by as Christine had described him as distorted with hardly a face at all. She had gone on to say she had seen all the misery of the world in his eyes. That truth Erik could not deny. Had he not earned the right to let others know of his suffering? He had wanted Christine to know what his life had been like. He had also wanted to share all the beauty that he had kept hidden deep in his soul. Through his music he had released such pain and longings. Every note had told a part of his life.
His deepest despair quickly turned to the most devastating anger and rage. Erik had lost the ability to think clearly. He had sworn that night that they would regret having disobeyed his instructions. At the time he had even cursed his beloved Christine.
Erik had listened that next morning as Christine had made arrangements for a coach to come for her in one hour. Erik made his own arrangements. Erik had knocked the coachman out taking his place on the carriage.
Taking the place of the coach driver that had been called to drive Christine to the place of her father's rest had not been a sane decision. Nothing Erik did during this time could be considered sane. He risked everything just for a few moments with her.
He had tried to lure Christine to his side at her father's crypt but Raoul had come just as Christine had given herself over to her Angel of Music. The duel that ensued had been brutal in its intensity. Erik had drawn first blood. His confidence in his abilities as a swordsman would not allow him to think he would not win.
The metal of the swords clanged as they hit the stone monuments. Sparks flew from the contact of metal to stone. Both man fought for love. One with crazed lust filled longings while the other had only youthful love to guide his hand.
One slip in the snow gave Raoul the advantage he needed. Raoul knocked Erik's sword from his hand then kicked it out of reach. Raising his sword Raoul almost ran Erik through. At the last moment Christine had pleaded with Raoul to spare her angel. She did not want it to end with Erik's death. Many would say she would have saved many from the disaster to come if she had let Raoul end the Phantom's life in that cemetery.
Christine had saved Erik from death but no one could save his mind from the insanity that had taken over his reason. If Erik could not have Christine's love then he would wage war on both her and her lover. Antoinette feared for him even as she had concerns for everyone else.
During the New Year's Masquerade Ball Erik had come dressed as Red Death. Everyone could not help but be in awe of his powerful demeanor even as they feared him or what he might do. They knew with certainty this was their ghost and phantom, one and the same. One entity bound in an unholy alliance with the very devil they were sure.
Erik had thrown a leather folder to the ballroom floor stating he had written an opera which they would perform. Christine was to play the lead.
Erik had mocked Piangi and Carlotta then moved on to the managers. He taunted them that they should deal with things in the office not the arts.
When Erik had approached Christine that was when he saw the symbol of love and commitment hanging from the chain around Christine's neck. She had given herself to that boy, Erik had not doubted that fact. Her eyes had not held the innocence from before. He ached with the betrayal. She was supposed to have been his. She was his. In an angry movement Erik ripped the chain from Christine's throat declaring her chains were still his. He had disappeared in a puff of smoke.
Raoul, who had gone to fetch his sword, had followed Erik through the trap door in the floor when he returned to the ballroom. Madame Giry had saved Raoul from harm by entering the confusing trap Erik had set from a passageway underneath the ballroom.
Raoul had begged Madame for any information she may have. They needed to know as much of this madman as they could. He had become much too dangerous to be allowed to roam the opera house or indeed Paris.
Antoinette had told Raoul as much as she knew of Erik. She knew nothing before the night she had rescued Erik. He for his part had blocked much of it from his memories. The nightmares Erik had suffered all his life had not let him forget everything.
The night of the performance Erik paced about his home. He had rigged the chandelier so it would come down with one swift cut of his sword. Surely Christine would not let it come to that? He knew of Raoul's and the managers plan to capture or more likely kill him during the performance. They counted on him being there to see his angel's performance. What they did not know was Erik planned to be on the stage with Christine not lurking in the wings or flies over the stage. Erik would be taking Piangi's place. Erik prayed Christine loved him as he loved her and would not follow through with the plan. He was placing his and everyone else's life in her hands. At this point Erik would be willing to do anything to win his love by fair means or foul. If he failed tonight his life would not be worth living. Either Christine came with him to share his life or his life would end tonight.
His decision to force her to come with him if things went badly had not been an easy choice. Desperation had fueled Erik's mind clouding his judgment. This would be his one chance to find some small bit of happiness. Erik had been sure of Christine's response to him when he had brought her down that first time. He had not fabricated anything. He counted on her feelings for him outweighing any she may have for that boy.
Erik's plan had gone just as it should. The only thing Erik had not counted on had been Christine's final cruel betrayal. She had ripped his mask from his face exposing him in all his horrid glory for those pompous and pampered fools who came to be seen and listen to the latest gossip more than for any performance.
Erik's heart nearly broke as he looked into Christine's tear-filled eyes. He read the sorrow there. He felt her pain as well as his own. Erik saw the gendarmes approaching. He had little time to think only a split second to react. He raised his sword then brought it down.
With the ripping sound of plaster shattering the chandelier began to come down. Once it hit the stage all hell broke lose. Everyone hurried to leave the now burning building as the flames leapt across the stage. The resulting explosions threw sparks outward spreading the fire quickly.
The auditorium was a mass of bodies all trying to reach safety. No one wished to be caught in the flames. Panic ensued. It became a case of every man and woman for themselves.
Erik had taken Christine down to his home once more, down to his prison, down to the place that he had called home for twenty years.
Knowing it would not come to pass Erik forced Christine to wear the wedding dress he had made for her. With every stitch he had known it to be a thankless task. Christine would never be his bride. In his few rational moments he had known that. It had not mattered. He had to continue or lose his dream. If he lost his dream his life would end. He would wither and die without Christine.
Raoul had followed as Erik had hoped. This presented Erik with the opportunity to force Christine to choose life with him or death for her lover.
For one moment Erik had seen Christine waiver. It had been fleeting but it had been there he was sure. When her final acceptance came it had been a hollow victory. She did not love him, not as he needed to be loved. She had been willing to sacrifice herself to her angel in hell to save her lover.
With the first touch of Christine's sweet mouth upon his Erik nearly died from the bliss of that one single kiss, the first kiss of his life upon his lips. The second touch of her lips upon his had crumbled all the walls Erik had built inside of him over the years.
He could not condemn Christine to life with him. What could he offer her? He could give nothing of any worth that she wanted. Her heart belonged to Raoul. Erik could not give her much but he could release both her and Raoul giving them their freedom.
Erik had broken inside as he said the words sending Christine into the arms of her lover once more. She would forget her angel in hell for she would live in heaven with love all around her. Only he would dwell in the dark depths of despair and loneliness for the rest of his life.
As Erik watched them row his boat to freedom he felt as if his soul left him to follow his angel, his love, his heart. How would he live without his heart or soul? How could he live without a purpose?
He had nothing. Erik began to smash all his mirrors. The last one had been a cover for his escape passage. He had planned to carry Christine off to begin a new life through this very portal. He had fooled himself into thinking someone looking as he did would find a place in the world where he would be accepted.
Erik had planned to board the ship leaving tonight for England. He would be missing that voyage. What would be the point? Besides he needed to make certain Antoinette and her daughter Meg had escaped the fire. A new twist of agony wring his heart as he thought of Little Meg coming to harm because of him.
the cutting of his flesh by the diamond in the ring brought Erik back to the misery of losing Christine. Grasping the ring Christine had given back to him Erik clutched it like a talisman. With each step he took away from his home his sobs grew harsher. Within minutes he could not breathe as the pain caught up with him leaving him a sobbing mass of humanity.
Erik dropped down onto the cold stones ready to die. How could he save anyone else when he could not save himself? He felt empty. He felt his music would forever be lost to him without his muse, his angel to fuel his passions. His one solace in life, gone now forever. What good was life without a purpose, a passion to drive one on?
Erik's sobs had begun to subside when he heard footsteps coming up behind him. There was a flickering of light just edging its way into the shadowy darkness where he sat wallowing in his despair.
The mob. That had been his first thought for he had heard their murderous chanting as they drew closer to his home as Christine blessed him with the touch of her lips.
Erik welcomed those who came to kill him. They would end his torture as they sent him home to his rightful place beside his demon father in hell. Was he not The Devil's Child?
Soon his worthless life would be over. His only regret would be that he could not see Antoinette once more so that he might beg her forgiveness even as he gave her his own for her part in Raoul finding his lair. He knew the necessity of her actions, for Erik had lost himself at the end. Antoinette in her infinite wisdom had seen that she must stop Erik. Her only fault had been she had waited much too late to save everyone.
Erik's only prayer at this moment was for the men who sought him would make his end quick. Mercy he knew should not be granted to him but he prayed for it all the same. If God had ever cared for him at all, Erik prayed those men would be kind and kill him here in a familiar place and not drag him through the streets of Paris to be displayed once more and judged by those who did not understand his pain or even try. All they knew of him had been that his face had not been as it should be. For the sin of his face he had been forced to live in hell his whole life.
As he heard the soft step come closer with a part of his mind he knew this was not the angry step of a mob. This was but one step and lightly placed at that.
"Monsieur?" Her soft inquiry caught him off guard. That voice, he knew that voice. Not Christine's but one associated with her. Meg. It came to him clearly that the voice belonged to Antoinette's daughter.
"Oh God child what are you doing here? Do you not know that if they find you with me your life will be in peril? To get at me they would walk over any number of innocents in their lust for revenge, a sentiment I am well acquainted with. Please go before they come. If you found my passageway it will not be long before others follow the same path."
"Monsieur, Maman would want me to help you. I know of your association even if she did not make it known to me with words from her. I have known of you for quite some time. Please Monsieur we must go before they catch up with us."
Erik waived her off with a weary, halfhearted gesture. "Go. I do not deserve mercy but I shall ask for it all the same. I will ask for immediate death rather than prolonged captivity being paraded around to satisfy the curious."
"Monsieur I know most of what you have done both to Raoul and Christine. For those things alone many would turn you over to the gendarmes.
For what you did tonight I hope you will beg God's pardon. I do not know if I can forgive you for taking away the only home I have known my whole life. This opera house was all my mother has ever known or wanted. She had been your savior now you have repaid her kindness with selfish avarice. You could not bear for Christine to be with anyone so you tried to make sure she would be with no one. Is that what you truly wanted?"
Erik bowed his head shamed by her words. They were no less than what he had thought himself. He wrapped his arms around his head sobbing as he said, "God no I did not wish for any of this truly I did not. I can only say my mind went into some very dark place these past few months. Just go quickly. Leave me to them that would take me away from my misery. I hear them coming." The murderous chant seemed to be headed this way echoing down the passageway.
"Maman would never forgive me if I did not try to get you out of here. She would not wish your death even after the horrible things you have done. Please come with me. My Maman will be at my uncle's house. If you do not go, then neither shall I. Will you have it be carried to my Maman that you were responsible for my death? You know that if I am caught with you they will assume I am your accomplice."
To prove she meant what she said, Meg slide down beside him. She thanked providence that her part tonight had required that she wear men's trousers. In her hands she still held his mask. As she sat on the cold stone she smoothed her fingers over the thin porcelain. She felt the sticky adhesive he must have used to keep it attached to his face. It had to be quite uncomfortable to wear this all the time even if it weighed hardly anything at all. It must irritate the skin horribly.
"So if I am to martyr myself at least tell me for whom I give my life."
"My name Mademoiselle if you must have it is Erik. Just Erik, I know no other. My mother bless her never saw fit to inform me of just who had bore me or fathered me. Since she had no expectations of offspring from my loins I suppose she considered the surname dead."
How sad Meg thought to not have anyone to carry on anything you left behind. How much sadder to have his own mother discount anyone thinking of him as anything other than deformed? This man, Erik, Meg began to realize had less Godlike powers than she had assumed whoever haunted the opera house would have. He had ruled them with notes and threats. Hundreds of somewhat average intelligent people had done his bidding for as long as Meg could remember.
For all that he had at his command before, now he had nothing, not even a complete identity. Christine leaving him after such an open betrayal had to leave wounds that might not ever heal. From the looks of him his pain went down to his very soul.
Erik felt his irritation rise. Did the stupid girl not see that he wished to be caught? Why could she not leave him in peace? As the roar of angry voices grew nearer Erik sighed heavily. He could not let Antoinette's daughter die even if it would be through her own stubbornness.
Erik rose to his feet beginning to walk once more toward freedom. His ears listened intently to make sure Meg got to her feet and followed him. He did not need a torch as he knew every step of every tunnel underneath what had been a great monument to music and dance. Now it would end its days not in glory as would be fitting such a gracious building, no, his opera house would turn to ash then slowly turn to dust.
Erik held his anger just barely in check when he heard Meg call his name for the first time. Why had he given her his name? Even Christine did not know his given name. Ah yes, he remembered. A mind that had once been razor sharp now seemed dull and sluggish.
Erik turned back irritable with Meg for having foiled his plan to die tonight.
"What!" Erik nearly shouted.
"Perhaps I will keep what I have as you are such a rude, ungrateful lout." Meg put her hands childishly behind her back but not quickly enough. Erik saw what she held in her hands.
"Give it to me. It is mine." He lunged toward Meg knocking into her with enough force to send her to the stones. Erik's hands reached out quickly snagging Meg's upper arms pulling her forward to collide with his chest in a solid blow. They both huffed out at the impact. Erik recovered first. He reached behind Meg and wrestled his mask from her hands.
He grew uncomfortable from her nearness as well as the fixed wide-eyed stare she trained on him. He had not been close to anyone other than Christine and Antoinette for so many years it felt strange to feel another's body pressed to his. Pushing her away Erik replaced his mask. The adhesive would not hold long but it would be long enough.
Meg watched Erik's retreating back with wonder in her eyes. Those strange sensations she had felt when she had been pressed against him were only now fading slowly as the cool air of the tunnel began to cool where the warmth of his body had pressed against her own. Mechanically she began to put one foot in front of the other. Her face had felt quite flushed as well. Those feelings she had felt almost like…no that was ridiculous. She had never felt an instant attraction to anyone. Mon Dieu she did not even know this man. What she knew would not garner him any favor from anyone. Yes, she must have imagined those tingles popping up everywhere. Her flushed feeling, well, she supposed that could have been a delayed reaction to the long trek through the tunnel. She was not attracted to the Opera Ghost, or the Phantom either. Erik…well Erik she could not be so sure.
Once they cleared the tunnel Erik asked Meg where her uncle lived. Meg smirked cheekily as she taunted him for not being omnipotent after all. Erik let her insolence pass. He really was just an ordinary man neither a ghost nor a phantom. For the first time since she had seen him on stage Meg took a good look at her reluctant companion. Once again she felt that strange pull toward him. When he had joined Christine and begun to sing not one woman in the whole opera house could hear anything beyond the sweet intoxicating sounds emitting from him. It had felt as if her will had been taken from her. She would have lain down and let him do as he wished she thought much to her shame. Shaking her head in denial she dismissed what she had felt as she had watched him on stage and her reaction to him earlier. The heat of the moment, or a simple reaction to the words and emotions during the performance of his opera. She was most certainly not attracted to him. He was ugly, well not ugly, but she still was not attracted to him, not much anyway.
Quickly she turned away before he could see her embarrassment and wonder about it. Meg could not imagine how Christine had stood firm against him. She must love Raoul more than the air she breathed to be able to resist this man's magnetism. Meg had little experience where intimacy was concerned but even she knew this man was special. He may not see it but she and all those mesmerized women in the theater had taken notice. Even now with men dogging their steps Meg found herself wondering what it would be like to have him hold her as he had held Christine. How would his lips feel on hers? Would he be tender or rough in his passion?
Christine had often hinted of a man who kept to the shadows that she felt some sort of connection with. Meg had thought that this shadow man and Christine's mysterious tutor were one and the same but Meg had never dreamed that he was also the Opera Ghost and Phantom of the Opera.
Disgusted with herself Meg shook off her inappropriate thoughts. Had she not decided that although he was attractive she would not fall at his feet?
She led Erik through the streets that seemed to have fewer pedestrians. When she could she traveled through alleyways to avoid those who rushed toward the now blazing opera house.
Meg spared a moment of regret for all those who would lose their home and income. She prayed no one lost their life. The fire department had already been on the spot as had been half the police and gendarmes of Paris. They had expected a disaster tonight just not on this level of destruction. Raoul de Chagny, Meg considered an honorable man in normal circumstances. He had let his fear of Christine being spirited away by a man Raoul claimed to be a madman guide his actions. Raoul had let his emotions rule when a cool head would have served him better.
Finally they came to the back alley of her uncle's home. Going into the backyard Meg did not think that the man behind her would hesitate entering into an abode through the front door. His only mode of entry had ever been through stealth and the use of a lock pick set he kept in his boot.
When Meg had reached the top step then stood on the porch she turned only to see her companion hugging himself tightly against the hedges. Did he think his large hulking frame could be hidden by three foot high hedges?
"Come on before the neighbors see us. They are so nosey they will come over using any excuse if they see a strange man lurking about." Meg could not help the uncharitable thought that her uncle's nearest neighbor, the Widow St. Claire would pounce on this man like a hungry wolf if she caught sight of him. That woman ate men for breakfast Meg had always thought.
When the man simply stood without moving one inch Meg puffed out air through her mouth in irritation. She raised her arms to emphasize her point. Meg's mother always told her she could not speak without making gestures with her hands. If one wanted to silence Meg, cut off her hands instead of cutting out her tongue her maman had always teased.
"For heaven's sake come on. Do you want all of Paris to know I have brought the Opera Ghost and one time Phantom of the Opera to my own uncle's home? That is all we need is for the neighbors to attack us with pitch forks and torches. By the way I tire of referring to you as Opera Ghost and Phantom. From now on I will be calling you Erik so get used to it."
Erik could have pointed out that she had already taken the liberty of using his name countless times during their journey to her uncle's home. Why had Erik never noticed how very vociferous Meg tended to be? Christine had always been the quiet one of the two.
Making sure no one was about Erik quickly made his way to Meg's side. Once he had gained the privacy of the porch he felt safer. He silently blessed whoever it was that had grown so many potted and hanging plants making it seem as if there was a solid wall of growing plant life.
Meg turned to knock on the door. It was opened immediately by her mother. Meg had been dragged through the doorway and into her mother's tight embrace before Meg could utter a word.
Antoinette had worried so for her daughter. As usual Meg had not been able to listen and obey her mother's words. Always the obstinate child, now an obstinate young woman seemed to appear overnight.
Antoinette pushed Meg away from her so that she could assure herself that not one hair had been harmed on her baby. Meg would always be Antoinette's baby no matter what age Meg happened to be.
"Are you alright? Where did you go? I went back for you but no one seemed to know where you had gone." Looking behind Meg when she caught a slight movement Antoinette sucked in her breathe in disbelief.
"Mon Dieu, Meg what on earth have you done?"
Not giving Meg time to reply Antoinette pulled Erik inside as she said, "Quickly now before someone sees you. That is all we need is for someone to see the man all of Paris will soon be looking for stading of our porch."
Once Antoinette had Erik inside she stepped back out to the porch to be sure no one had witnessed him coming inside. Just now they needed no rumors of mysterious men coming into the neighborhood. Indeed Antoinette expected the house to house search to begin shortly.
Facing Erik Antoinette felt anger overwhelm her. She balled her fists striking Erik wherever her fists landed. Blow after blow Erik stood with his hands at his sides. He made no effort to fend off those little fists delivering one stinging blow after another.
"How could you? Was this what love meant to you? Erik you destroyed so much and for what, an emotion of the heart? An emotion, a strong heartfelt emotion to be sure, but Mon Dieu Erik, to bring down the Populaire in the pursuit of Christine? Had you not given any thought to the rest of us?"
Once Antoinette tired of hitting his solid chest she slumped down into a kitchen chair. Hearing the shuffling of nervous feet Antoinette recalled that others had witnessed her attack on Erik. This uncustomary display must have shocked them as usually Antoinette kept a clear head no matter what the circumstances around her.
"Oh forgive me Armand. If this is too much we will go. We must leave soon in any case. This is the man I have told you about. The one I have hidden all these years. I ask in the name of your brother that you do not banish us just yet. We need to have a few moments to discuss our future and where we will go from here."
Erik cared little about what they discussed. If it were left to him he would crawl into some dark hole then slowly die. He was dead already. His body just did not know it yet. Erik had died when Christine had left him down in his dungeon waiting at the doors of hells gateway.
Voices swirled around him holding little meaning. He sank deeper into a place where no one would be able to reach him. Little by little he withdrew from everyone. He closed his mind to everything and everyone.
This total nothingness seemed a heavenly place as Erik contemplated the agonies he would suffer when the full extent of what he had done and Christine's loss finally made its impact on him. One day without her voice would be agony. Weeks, months, years without her would be a slow dying process. He would be a hollow shell without her presence to fill his soul with her sweetness. If Erik could be amused by anything it would have been his fleeting thought that now he may well become a ghost in reality if a ghost could be considered as belonging to the real world. Erik's mind refused to debate further on the complexities of the reality or non-reality of ghostly beings even if it did involve him. Nothing held interest for him just at this moment, not even his next breath.
Decisions were made without Erik's knowledge or consent as he had completely shut himself off from everyone and everything. Antoinette and Meg took responsibility for him.
Gathering what clothing Armand could spare along with enough money to last for a week or so the three left to plunge into a world of uncertainty. Nothing could be taken for granted. For better or for worse Antoinette, Meg and Erik were companions until such time as things could be sorted out.