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Erik

Entry 13

I felt a red haze fill my vision when I saw bruises marring Christine's pale skin.

She had been quiet the whole journey through the passages to my home and I tried not to feel at a loss when she had not greeted me with her usual exuberance. Since the lessons began she has always greeted me by wrapping her arms around me as soon as she sees me. But not last night for some reason. And I did not know why. And it was eating at me.

She had smiled at me and through the dim light that filled the passages I saw her face was tired and drawn and her eyes were a little swollen. For some reason she was also gripping her shawl to her with a vice like hold, unlike having it wrapped about her shoulders like she always does she was holding it hight about her neck.

I walked in silence trying to think of what could possibly be wrong. She obviously did not wish to speak about what was troubling her and I did not want to force her to speak to me. But I wanted to know. I needed to know.

But true panic and worry settled over me when she could hardly sing a line when I began to play.

What was wrong with her? Was she ill?

I asked her if she was well and all she did was step towards me – still holding her shawl tightly – and she rested her head on my chest sighing heavily.

It was then as I looked down at her bent head that I saw a purple smudge standing out on her pale skin where her shawl was gaping between her neck and shoulders. It was a finger print.

Anger ran through my body.

Who would dare touch her?

I took her shoulders in my hands to make her straighten and I felt her stiffen under my fingers and heard her hiss of pain.

Her eyes met mine and they were filled with panic.

Why did she not want me to know?

"Who did this Christine?" I asked her, trying to keep control of my voice but I knew that I was hardly succeeding. I was angry and she knew that.

I watched as Christine's face crumpled and she fell against me, burying her head in my shoulder she began to sob.

I wrapped my arms around her shaking figure and held her close. I rubbed her back gently but after I heard her hiss in pain and stopped.

Just what had happened?

With each breathy sob she gave my heart clenched tighter in my chest.

"Christine sweetheart tell me what happened." I mumbled in her ear kissing her cheek and resting my forehead against her own.

She took a deep watery breath and opened her eyes that she had closed as soon as she had started crying.

"I don't know what I did Erik. He was so angry, I didn't know him any more." she whispered hoarsely

He. Who was 'he'? Who didn't she know any more? Who had done this to her?

"Christine who did this?" I asked her my voice now resembling a growl.

"Raoul." she sobbed leaning into me once more. I put my arms around her gently trying not to hold her to tightly - not knowing where she was hurting. My actions towards her totally contradicted my internal turmoil. I wanted to rip something apart – preferably that boy.

How dare he?

That boy had dared to lay his hands on my Christine. He had dared to touch her and mark her. Bruising her. Hurting her. Scaring her.

I tried to control my breathing and by doing so control my feelings – though I felt them boiling bellow my skin.

"Sweetheart, what happened?" I asked her softly, wanting her to tell me but not wanting to push her or upset her any further then she was. The fact that I could not hold her properly was tearing me up inside. She was hurting and I could not even comfort her.

I felt her take in a deep breath against my chest and her sobbing began to slow until she was huddled against my chest, her arms still around my waist and her head pressed against my shoulders.

We were getting no where by standing at my organ so making a quick decision I swung her small, light body into my arms and carried her to the bed that she had slept in that first night. All she did was turn her face into my jacket and breath deeply. Despite the seriousness of the situation and the fact that I was still wanting to break every bone in that boys body I allowed myself to enjoy the moment with her.

I sat down on the bed, my back against the headboard with Christine curled up on my lap. I stroked her tear stained cheek gently and pressed a kiss to her lips.

"Baby, please tell me what happened." I whispered into her ear as I began rocking her in my arms at a loss for what to do.

She looked up at me her eyes filled with tears that she was trying not to let fall. She breathed deeply and then began to tell me.

I thought that my anger had reached it's height when I had first heard that the Vicomte had given her the bruises but I felt it boil when Christine told me just how it had happened.

She told me that he had forced her against the wall and all but strangled her.

"I don't know what I did Erik." she sighed – still snuggled against my chest with my arms wrapped firmly around her.

"Have you told anyone else Christine." I asked her quietly wanting to know if she had confided in anyone else. After all it had been almost a full day.

She shook her head in reply.

"I made sure that I went to bed before the other girls came back to the room. I was a mess and I didn't want then asking questions. Especially Meg." she mumbled into my chest sighing heavily.

"He is the opera's patron Erik. What could I do?"

Christine had a point there. Even if it was brought to the attention of the managers it would be her word against his. A singer against an aristocrat.

I was going to kill him.

I held her for a little longer enjoying the feel of her in my arms before I escorted her back to the surface – not something I usually do but I did not like to let her out of my sight for any longer than I needed to.

After I had left a calmer Christine I went straight to Madame Giry's rooms and told her what had happened while pacing the room angrily.

"He did what?" she cried jumping to her feet her face turning the same shade of red it had when Christine and I had appeared at the ball.

"He had seen Christine with me at the masquerade and did not appreciate her refusal of his 'proposal'..." I trailed of.

"How dare he. What right does he have to man handle her that way. You should have seen her bruises. He marked her. There was a hand print on her neck..."

The ballet mistress's expression mirrors my own feelings going from shock when I began to fury once I had finished.

"That...that..."

I watched in amazement as the usually dignified woman clenched her fists and began pacing the floor in front of me now that I was standing still.

"He is supposed to be a gentleman. What gentleman treats the woman he is supposed to have feelings for in such a manner. He bruised her you say?" she looked at me but just continued to rant not expecting or requiring any reply from me.

"We are not leaving her alone. One of us will be with her at all time. This happened on the way to the dormitories as if he was waiting for her..." the woman continued her voice rising in anger.

My own anger that had cooled slightly during my own narrative of events fanned back to life as the woman began to voice her own opinions.

Yes, I was going to kill him.

After making plans with Madam Giry to have someone with Christine at all times I made my way back quickly to my home and dragged a box out from under my organ.

I opened the lid slowly. Calculating my every move and planning ahead.

Inside lay my Punjab lasso.

I took it out carefully. I had not needed to use this in some time. I had had several placed as booby traps around the various passages under the Opera to prevent any one from knowing of my existence here but when Christine began to visit I made sure to take them all down. Dreading the thought of finding her suspended by her throat – the life being choked out of her and it being my fault.

But this one would not be dormant any longer. I had a use for this one.

Today I prowled the corridors of the Opera my anger just as high as it had been last night.

I would leap into the shadows upon hearing anyone approaching me to continue on my way again once they had passed.

Just after lunch I heard my angel's voice coming towards me and watched her walk past me with Meg and I could not help but smile – Madame Giry had obviously carried out her plan of not having Christine alone. My heart skipped a beat when Christine turned around a frown on her face as she looked towards the alcove where I was hidden. She knew that I was there and the knowledge pleased me.

A few minutes after they had passed I heard more footsteps and saw the figure of a man coming down the corridor – quickly.

It was him.

And he was heading in the direction that the woman I love had just vanished in.

I reached below my cloak and took out the Punjab lasso. I was going to teach this boy a lesson that he would never forget.

I ducked into an alcove and waited for him to walk by, my mind becoming calm and calculating. I waited until he was just passed before flicking my wrist and pulling the noose tight and dragging him into the alcove. I heard him gasp for breath and felt a sense of satisfaction. This was how he had treated my Christine when he had held her my the throat. I was not going to spare him.

"How does it feel Monsieur Vicomte" I hissed in his ear as he flailed about. his hands grasping at his throat but being unable to pry the rope from his flesh.

"The next time you lay hands on my Christine I will not be so generous with your life. Do not dare touch her or even look at her. You will leave her alone." I pulled the noose tighter until his breathing almost stopped and he slumped against me. I released the noose and let him drop to the floor gasping and sputtering, clutching at his neck.

"Think of this the next time you raise your hand against a woman." I spat at him and turning away from the wheezing, pathetic sight, I made my way back home.

Hey everyone. This chapter took me days to get right. Well...i think i got it right anyway.

Say hello to the dark side of Erik mwahaha. Hehe. Raise your hand if you were getting sick of the sweet and sickly adoring couple.

Anyhoo any kind of feedback would be great on this chapter and very much appreciated.

Thanks

:-)