Ch. 3
Cora's heart raced to the rhythm of an invisible drum; she could hear it pounding in her ears. As the vast and looming estate came into view, she wondered, if perhaps, the end of her life was drawing near.
Her carriage came to a halt in front of two towering oak doors. She hesitated to step out, contemplating whether or not her odds of survival would be better to turn around and return home. What proper and sane lady would render herself vulnerable in such a way-to call upon a strange man of whom she knew nothing about, save for the fact that he wore a mask to obscure his identifying features, with an identity wholly unkown, and had used threats to carry out his dark intentions?
She remembered everything that she had worked so hard to accomplish and how it would be in vain if she did not obey Mr. Destler's orders. She could not allow her father to discover her secret, even if she must suffer the consequences of what she was about to do.
The elderly Butler led her through the door and down a dark hallway, where she noticed that the decor was darker than that of a typical estate; massive chandeliers hung from the ceiling, illuminating the crimson brocade walls, dark scarlet candles were on nearly every surface, and even the paintings were of bleak and stormy landscapes. She nearly expected to see a gargoyle perched somewhere.
She was abandoned in a large study that contained so many books that it could be considered a library. Save for the massive black marble fireplace, the rest of the walls were covered with shelves of various books-she caught glimpses of topics from foreign languages, to music, to history.
It wasn't until after the door had closed and she was truly alone that she felt the panic spread through her. What if Mr. Destler had been dishonest and he really was going to take something indecent from her?
No, for surely he could not expect her to keep quiet, not to mention that it would put his position with her father at risk. Perhaps it was their partnership that reassured her that this was not the case.
Nevertheless, she did not enjoy the idea of being controlled by a strange man, no matter what it was that he wanted from her. She clutched the cloth sack in her hands tightly, praying that the encounter would end quickly.
Not even one minute had passed before Erik had joined her. Once he had closed the door, he turned to look at her and she noticed that he wore a white porcelain half-mask in place of the large velvet black one that she had seen the previous day.
She wondered why such a handsome and wealthy man had not yet married, and why he had insisted on carrying on with his eccentric and theatrical appearance.
Perhaps his 'charms' had not worked well in courtship, for what lady would ever consider a man who did not hesitate to use threats and intimidation in a most inappropriate way? she thought coldly to herself.
Her heart nearly lept to her throat when she saw how menacing he looked, especially with a small smirk on his face, as he approached her. She lifted her head slightly and refused to show her fear.
"Ms. Levour," Erik walked over to a carafe of liquor and poured himself a glass, "It pleases me to see that you have followed my advice. Care for a glass?"
She ignored his offer.
"Advice? You may have leverage against me, but do not pretend to be a gentleman!"
He chuckled to himself. If only she knew of who he once was, then perhaps she would not speak to him so brazenly. She might even break that courageous and stubborn facade of hers and run away, screaming.
"Very straightforth; a good quality to have," he remarked. He ran his fingers through his dark hair with a sigh, preparing himself to execute the ludicrous idea that he had spent the entire sleepless night pondering.
He imagined all of the ways in which he could experience a new-found freedom-that of disguising his face in such a way that no one would ever suspect a deformity. He could walk straight through the front door and outside without hesitation, without thought of whether or not his mask was askewed or covered every inch of the abhorrent skin. He could take a stroll in town and be met with faces that did not contort in terror at the sight of him. How often people took for granted such luxuries, and he was to be sure that he would enjoy every minute of even mundane tasks!
He certainly wished to know the techniques for himself, so that he could apply his own disguise and never have to burden anyone with the sight again, but he knew that this could not be the case. Cora had managed to cover her own flawless features, but how could he be certain that she had the ability to cover his marred face? She would need to assess the damage in order to show him how to do it, for simply painting the facade would not be successful when the skin was not smooth.
He was plagued by the fear of what was to come. How could he ever allow another soul, let alone a woman, to see his face again? He certainly did not wish for a repeat from four years ago! He could not bear to be humiliated again, and he knew nothing of this woman to know exactly the level of repulsion that she would experience.
Was her secret of consequence enough to prevent her from revealing him to others? Perhaps he had misjudged her character, and the reason for her prancing about in a man's disguise was trivial enough that she would not keep her disgust to herself and would jeopardize his entire life? He would be forced to flee from the life that he was working so hard to accomplish, and he did not enjoy the threat of it.
He shook the negative thoughts from his head. If her secret was not important to her, then surely she would not have traveled to his estate and risked what she had thus far. It was highly improper for an unmarried woman to be alone with him, let alone that she risked being caught by her father at his estate.
Still, he could not help but to feel the anxiety of what he was about to do.
He drank all of the liquid from his glass to prepare himself before he continued, "I have not been blessed in life to be a gentleman."
"Truly?" Cora responded with sarcasm. "It must have escaped my observation, what with the way in which you shook me about and threatened me!"
"It was necessary," he folded his hands tightly in his lap, hoping that his anger would not flare further.
He had never been spoken to in such a way, and he almost wished that he was still the Phantom of the Opera to inspire fear in her. Perhaps he would have to resort to his old ways, after all.
"I was never aware that a lack of etiquette and proper manners towards a woman is necessary?" she laughed in disbelief.
If only she had known what he had done to the woman he loved years ago; how he had tricked her into believing that he was her Angel of Music, how he had attempted to seduce her into becoming his, and had ultimately abducted her with threats of ending her lover's life. Erik wanted to scoff but also felt a brief pang of guilt.
"It is when you have no other choice!" he shouted. Her rebellious and brazen conduct angered him, and he did not expect for the red-haired woman to be so grating on his nerves.
Her light green eyes blazed in return at him, and he noticed how her pale lips formed in a line. "I believe that one always has a choice in how they treat others."
His fists tightened and his jaw clenched from her words. How dare she criticize him for his behavior-he, who has endured the ridicule and mockery of everyone his entire life; he who was reduced to a repulsive animal by the woman he loved in front of an audience!
How people would pay a small coin as entry to see the Devil's Child, to point and laugh, before going about their day as if he had no inkling of emotion or feeling as a human being! How his own mother had abandoned him, as if he was no better than refuse burdening the underside of a shoe, to a man who would hurt and beat him! How he had to watch the woman he loved look on at him in fear and leave him for the normalcy of another man!
"If you knew of the way in which I have been treated all of my life-what cruelty I have suffered-" he struggled for a moment to maintain his composure, "-it is of no consequence; that is not why you are here. I want for you to teach me how you have accomplished it!"
Cora furrowed her brows at him and remained silent.
"I want you to transform my face."
She crossed her arms defensively. "Whyever would you wish to do such a thing? Do you wish to play games with people? As if hiding your identity from the public isn't enough of a thrill for you, you now wish to take on a different identity?"
"I do not wish to play games, Mademoiselle!" he hissed. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his thighs and hands folded in front of him, with a dark look in his hazel eyes. "You would be wise to comply!"
"I do wish you would stop threatening me! Had it not been for you discovering me yesterday, I would never allow you to speak to me this way!"
"You have no say in the matter! Let us not forget that I did discover you yesterday, and you will obey me if you wish for it to be kept a secret!"
Cora turned her head towards the fireplace with an angry but weakening determination. "I will not take part in being deceiptful."
"Are you not the epitome of deceipt to dress as a man?!" he spat with vehemence.
Her eyes cast down to study the floral patterns of the large Turkish rug beneath her. She despised the fact that she was, yet again, at the mercy of another man's will. It was a circumstance that she had worked so earnestly to avoid the past year.
"I have my reasons," she replied through gritted teeth, "that are none of your concern."
"As do I!" Erik shouted. His patience was wearing thin and his stomach turned at the idea of revealing his face to her, setting his nerves ablaze. Though he both knew and cared nothing for Cora, exposing himself to her was demeaning all the same.
This was a mistake to bring her here! he chastised himself mentally. He began to pace the room, like a mad animal in its cage, deciding what he should do. Cora watched him cautiously, uncertain of his motives.
He stopped suddenly and turned to her, the intense stare made Cora uncomfortable.
"You will do this!" he determined. Cora was unsure as to if he had spoken to her or was reassuring himself of his intentions instead.
Erik was so quick to tower over her that she startled when she saw his menacing black figure standing before her.
"You will tell no one of this, and if you scream then you shall suffer a fate worse than what you are now doomed to!" he warned.
"What?" Cora asked, shocked. She felt gooseflesh on her arms and stood abruptly, staring him in the face. "I will not stay to become your plaything!"
Her stoic facade began to melt away in front of him, and he could see the fear in her green eyes. This fear, this cowering woman before him, reminded him of the very same expression that he had once seen in the eyes of the woman he loved, and it angered him further.
"You will do as I say!"
"I will not!" the look of determination had returned to her features and she headed towards the door. "I will not be raped or tortured, or whatever it is that you have intended for me! You can tell my father whatever you like!"
In a moment of desparation, Erik pinned her to the door before she could open it, his eyes filled with rage. "Should I tell him of this, as well?"
His hand ripped away the mask and threw it to the floor, causing Cora to jump when it shattered. Her eyes never left his face, and he could see them widen with horror. Without thought, his hand flew to her mouth to stifle whatever scream he expected would come, for he could not bear to hear it.
"Remember my promise if you scream!" he hissed.
Cora's eyes began to water and she prayed that the tears would not fall. Her gaze roved over the sight before her-the mangled, twisted flesh in place of smooth skin, the lack of hair upon his temple, the sagging of his maddened eye, and she felt a lump rise to her throat.
Erik felt the disgust of her reaction overtake him and the urge to vomit had never been stronger in him.
"Do you see what I have been reduced to? I am already a monster disguised as a human!"
He pulled himself away from her angrily and walked over to the fireplace, daring his composure to withstand his overwhelming emotions. He willed himself not to cry, for there was nothing more that could humiliate him in front of her. Instead, he focused on the crackling flames in the fireplace, wishing that they could consume him in that instant.
Cora remained, unmoved, with her back against the door. She focused on the coldness of it that she could feel through her dress, hoping that such a simple, mundane thought would distract her from the many emotions that conflicted within her.
Shock from the secret in which Mr. Destler had kept was quickly replaced with disgust of her own behavior. How could she have terribly misjudged him? She felt the stabbing knife of shame wash over her at the thought of how painful it must have been for him to reveal himself to her, and how stubborn and spiteful she had been.
What pain he must have had to endure in his life! And here she had been severe and patronizing with him! She had believed him to wish harm upon her for his own amusement by his behavior-never had she expected that he bore such an affliction!
A tear escaped down her cheek and she quickly wiped it away, before he would turn around and notice. She was certain that he had already mistaken her reaction as caused by his face, when it was her own previous accusations that she was horrified by.
She wished that she could disappear into the floor with how small she felt. To watch him put back together what little composure he could muster in front of her, to watch the pained expression on his face that had remained from the anger, made her despise herself in that moment. She hated the fact that she had made another human being feel that way.
She walked back to the divan and set the cloth sack down on the table. She began to pull out its contents-various creams, paints, and tools that she used for her own disguise, and whatever she had managed to collect that she thought would be useful that morning. Though she had began her journey to his estate with a determination not to assist him, she had prepared for it in case of threats, nonetheless; and she was glad of it, now.
"Alright, I will help you," she spoke softly.