Christine
Madame Giry brought us to a dark, abandoned home after what seemed like forever in the carriage. The Phantom was losing consciousness as Madame Giry helped us into the building. He was losing so much blood! I had never seen so much blood. I was surprised to see that the driver of the carriage seemed more than willing to help us. He seemed nervous though as he took one of the Phantom's arms and practically carried him the entire way.
The building was cold and dusty. All the furniture was covered with dirty white cloths. Overall, it appeared to be nice and in decent shape considering it was obviously abandoned. Madame Giry quickly removed a cloth from a piece of furniture to reveal a crimson red couch. She then scurried to the fireplace across the room and began to the process of lighting a fire. She handed me a box of matches.
"Lay him down," she ordered the driver. "Light some candles." The driver gently placed the Phantom on the couch. He was now barely conscious. I did what she ordered as well and lit some of the waxy candles surrounding the area. It didn't take long for Madame Giry to get a fire going. In a few moments the room was illuminated with a bright orange glow. "Light as many as you can," Madame Giry demanded. "We're going to need all the light we can to help him."
She went to the Phantom's side. She gently turned him over and began removing his clothing to see the wound. Blood was everywhere. I cringed when I saw his skeletal form, pale from the blood loss. His back had a small bullet hole on his shoulder. It was strange how a wound so small could bleed so much.
"Christine dear could you please get some water and towels. The kitchen is just through there." Madame Giry nodded toward a hallway. I stood there in shock for a moment. "Christine hurry!"
The desperateness in her voice snapped me out of my daze. I grabbed a candle and ran down the dark hallway and soon found a rather grand kitchen. I had no idea where to look for the towels or a bowl to carry the water. Desperately, I searched through every drawer and cabinet. I found the towels in a bottom drawer. There was a large bowl on the table covered in dust. Swiftly, I cleaned it out and filled it with water. When I returned to Madame Giry she was cleaning some sort of pliers with a bottle of whiskey.
The pliers were huge. What could she possibly want to do with them? I ran to her side and placed down the items. "What can I do to help?" I asked.
She said nothing as she cleaned her instrument thoroughly. My attention went to the Phantom; he was very still but appeared to be breathing steadily. I held his hand. It was cold, very cold. Madame Giry came back to his side. Her eyes went from me to the driver who was standing nervously on the other side of the room. "You will need to hold him down. This will hurt him," she warned.
The driver came over to us and stood over the still body of the Phantom. I didn't know what she was going to do, but from the look in her eyes and the swift but stable movements I knew not to question her. I placed my hands gently but firmly on his arm and the other side of his body. The driver held down the lower part of him. Madame Giry began digging carefully into his back with the surgical pliers. "We have to get the bullet out. Otherwise there will be no point in stitching him up."
The early morning sunlight was shining through the window by the time Madame Giry was finished working on the Phantom. Watching her try and dig the bullet out was by far the worst. He had completely lost consciousness during the process. Afterward, Madame Giry stitched him up with expert hands.
"Do you think he's going to be ok?" I asked as she took her last stitch and cut the thread.
"I do believe so. Luckily the bullet didn't hit anything major. He lost a lot of blood, and he will need a lot of rest. If he had a doctor's care things might have been better" she explained, "but I do believe he'll be ok. We just need to make sure we keep the wound clean. Infection will be our biggest problem now. These tools aren't as sanitary as they should be and well…I'm not a doctor."
"You sure seemed like one," I said as I sat on the ground in front of the couch and took hold of his cold hand.
Madame Giry began cleaning up the mess of bloody towels. The driver of the carriage had disappeared long ago into the house. "I've learned a lot over the years," she explained. "It's regrettably not the first bullet wound I've treated."
I sighed. "How long do you think he'll need to stay here?" I knew that the Phantom and I needed to get out of town as soon as possible.
"I would say at least a week. Being on the road will be difficult. He'll need as much strength as he can gather," she said grimly.
"Great…," I sighed. I knew that being in Paris put him in grave danger. No doubt people would be searching for me as well. All of Paris would think that the Phantom kidnapped me. The quicker we were gone the better.
Madame Giry seemed to sense my anxiety. "It'll be ok, Christine. This house is my nephew's. He doesn't live here anymore because…well because. No one will come knocking, trust me." She put a hand on mine.
I smiled reluctantly. "Is your nephew the driver?" I asked.
She nodded. "Henri is his name."
"Christine…," the Phantom groaned. I turned to him. His eyes were slowly opening. This made me smile.
"I'll leave you two alone," Madame Giry announced as she left the room.
The Phantom turned over slowly. "Be careful. Don't break your stitches," I warned.
He held his arm, which Madame Giry had placed in a sling, and sat up slowly. He looked up at me smiling from ear to ear. Despite his pale features, his distorted face, and the obvious pain he must have been in, he looked absolutely delighted to see me. He put his hand to my cheek. "I thought it had been a dream…," he murmured. From the nature of his touch, I could tell he was trying to make sure I was real.
I grabbed his hand and held it close. "No, no it wasn't. I'm here," I reassured. I kissed his hands.
His eyes were wide, and I could tell he was on the verge of tears. "But why?" he asked.
The thoughts in my mind that had led me to my decision bordered on impossible to put into words. "It's difficult to explain. I was terrified when we first went down into your lair. I had no idea what you were going to do. And when you threatened Raoul…I was livid. But then I kissed you…," I looked to him. His eyes were wide. This was the first time I had noticed they were blue. His eyes were a gorgeous dark blue. "We kissed and well my heart took over from there. My mind told me to run with Raoul, but my heart…my soul told me I wanted you. I felt it in the kiss. It was like nothing I had ever experienced before. I didn't understand it at all." I held my lips, still remembering the way that kiss felt. "Well then when you said I could go regardless…my mind sort of got on track with my heart. I knew then leaving those cellars without you would be the biggest mistake I'd ever make."
Surprisingly, he kissed me as soon as my mouth closed. It was the most passionate kiss we'd had since the one that had sealed my fate with him. I cupped his cheeks and held his lips to mine. "Christine, I love you," he told me after breaking the kiss.
"I think…I think I love you too," I replied. It felt weird to say this to the man that had scared the daylights out of me only days before. Still, even when I was frightened by him, I was entranced by him. Raoul would have been the safe thing to do. I could have lived a wonderful, happy life with him. Yet I had chosen the Phantom. Life would not be easy with him, but I felt that I would experience the most enduring, passionate love that any woman would ever experience. My feelings for him escaped most words. They could only be described as love.
"That's good enough for me," he laughed. I couldn't believe through all this craziness he was laughing. I had never seen him laugh before.
"I love you," I stated more confidently. His laughing turned into a look of pure contentment. "I love you, and I don't even know your real name."
"It's Erik," he answered. "My name is Erik."
"Erik…," I said. I liked the way it rolled off my tongue.
"A lot less menacing compared to the Phantom of the Opera," he laughed again.
"Yes," I agreed.
Madame Giry came back into the room carrying a cup of water. She handed it to Erik who drank it gladly. "I've sent Henri out for some food. This place has absolutely nothing as far as sustenance goes."
"Thank you, Antoinette," Erik said when he'd finished his water.
"We've made one of the bedrooms upstairs for you. Do you think you can manage to get up the stairs? I know you've lost a lot of blood and," she told us.
Erik stopped her from continuing. His legs were shaky, but with little aid he stood himself up. It was at this point that I noticed how incredibly skinny he was. His shirt was still off, and I had a good look at all his features. His ribs were sticking out. It didn't look like he'd had a proper meal in ages. When he turned around I noticed the lines of scars on his back. They looked like whip marks. The thought of someone whipping him made me want to burst into tears right there. "I've been injured far worse in my past. I think I can manage a simple gunshot." I held his hand as he we moved to the stairs. He was still shaky on his feet, but he managed to make it up the stairs and into the bedroom with little help.
The room was very nice, much nicer than where I normally slept. There was a nice queen sized bed with a canopy. On the bed was a lovely red quilt embroidered with gold designs. Henri must have come up here earlier and got rid of some of the dust. The quilt looked clean and the night tables were also dust free. A fire was also going in the bedroom's fireplace.
Erik sat on the bed with a sigh. I helped him under the warm quilt. I knew he must have been exhausted, but he seemed wide awake. "You should get some rest. Is there anything you need?" I asked.
He grinned up at me. "Yes, you. Would you please join me?" he practically begged. I couldn't refuse that tone.
His plea made me smile. Even with the distorted side of his face, the look of happiness suited him well. I lay on top of the comforter while he was underneath it. The sunlight was coming through the curtains giving me a good look at his face. His lip was malformed on one side. His cheek was a mess. All of it was discolored with sickly looking skin. Purple veins could easily be seen under the skin. The skin on his skull was so thin in one place that I could see the white of the bone. Then the other side of his face looked perfectly flawless and actually really handsome. It was if God had played a cruel joke.
He seemed to notice me examining his face. His body was rigid as I looked upon him, but he did not move out of my gaze. I moved my hand to trace my fingers over the prominent veins in his distorted cheek. I'd touched his face many times tonight, but this was the first time I got a truly good look at it while doing so. He held his breath as my hand went to the thin skin on his head. The dark veins were thicker than the yellow skin over his skull. "Does it hurt?" I asked him. His mangled features looked very painful.
"Not physically," he replied. I knew his features must have caused him a great deal of pain. "Does it scare you?" he asked after a moment.
I smiled and kissed his twisted cheek to answer his question. "I told you, your face isn't a problem for me."
He frowned. "My soul is," he said grimly as he pushed my hand away. He was referring to my words back in his lair.
"Your soul is hurt, but you're not beyond saving," I explained as I stubbornly put my hand back on his cheek.
"How do you know?" He didn't look too sure that he was still capable of being saved.
I smiled. He was looking up at me with those big blue eyes like a child. This man, who had seemed more like a spirit than a man only days before, looked completely lost right now. "Because I can see the beauty in you," I told him before I kissed him.
A tear formed in his eyes when I raised my lips from his. I could tell he wasn't used to kindness. "I'm sorry for everything Christine…I'm so sorry," he whimpered.
I put a finger on his deformed lips to silence him. "The past is the past. Agreed?"
He nodded. I lay my head on the pillow facing him. He turned around to do the same, wincing as he did so. "I can't believe Raoul shot you," I said. I knew Raoul was young and young men were bound to do anything, but I couldn't imagine the sweet Raoul shooting someone out of anger.
Erik let out a weak chuckle. "Love makes men do crazy things. Trust me I know."
That was indeed true. Erik had done far crazier things in the pursuit of love, but now he had the woman he wanted. "You should get your rest," I suggested. "There's no telling how long we'll be safe here." The entire city was likely looking for the two of us right now. Paris was a big place, but if enough people were searching someone might get lucky.
"Will you lay with me?" he asked. "I don't want you to leave."
"I wasn't going to leave," I answered. This gentle side of him was something I was not used to, but I really liked it.
He closed his eyes, and I did the same. I didn't know how it happened. The whole city was searching for me and the man I loved and my life was about to completely change, but I felt a peace wash over me as I lay there beside Erik. It was a peace I hadn't felt since my father passed away. It was so powerful and wonderful that I quickly fell asleep.
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