It had been many years since the dark had scared Erik. In many senses, he was practically fearless. The scariest thing a person could run into in the dark basements of the old church was undoubtedly him. He was what children were suppose to check under their bed for.
And what was he to be scared of? The rats?
The only thing that scared him anymore was Minister Martin, which was ironic. He was a little man with glasses, he wasn't very intimidating or exceptionally bright. Yet he was the only one who knew of Erik. Only a handful of people even knew he existed and somehow Minister Martin was one of them. How could he have been so careless to let the stupid minister of that stupid church find him?
Erik could have left he really wanted to do. But he didn't, there was one thing that was keeping him from fleeing the town of Alfred all together. Christine.
He couldn't ever leave her. She was the only thing that could make him feel truly... good. Sure, his music and his books could make him not feel terrible, but it was Christine- and only Christine- that would help him feel good. Slowly, she was changing his entire life.
As an example, he was more eager to venture out of his dark home. That is, as long as he was going to see her. Erik was also starting to appreciate the church choir more. Christine sang in it and even with out her, he had to admit they sounded decent. In fact, they were probably one of the best in the area. Not that Erik was an avid listener of small-town chancel choirs.
That afternoon was spent for some church social something or other- Erik could not be bothered to remember the name of it. However, the choir was singing a few, Romantic Era pieces and Christine had gone over some of the songs with him as a warm-up one day.
Erik liked to sometimes look at the common people that lived above him. As much as he hated to admit it, even to himself, Erik longed to be one of them. He just wanted to be a normal young man, he was at the age of a college student and liked to imagine himself as a young music major who for some reason still knew Christine.
They would get married (although she was only eighteen, it was still a lovely fantasy), they would live in a normal little house with normal children, a grand piano and a dog. He would buy her nice things and they might go for walks together on Sundays.
Erik shook the happy thought from his mind, observing himself in the dingy mirror he kept. The normal side of his face was exceptionally handsome. His mask created a sort of symmetry to his visage. Erik let a small smile escape from his lips, with the mask, he was nearly good-looking.
Being as swift and quiet as he could, Erik ventured through the self-constructed catacombs of his church. Every other moment, he stopped to admire the architecture of the old church.
"I know you're there," a quiet voice that grew with courage said. Erik's blood ran cold. No one had ever known that he was there. No one was suppose to.
He creaked to a place of silence, a single bead of sweat falling down his forehead.
"I know you're here," the voice continued, it was definitely the minister. "No one else believes me. But I know that you're here, even now. You see, I received your letter."
Erik wanted to faint, he never should have sent that letter. It ruined everything! He took a deep breath, he had to act like a man. If it was a war this minister wanted, it was a war he would get.
"I am here," Erik responded, dropping his voice an octave lower. He sounded tougher, more threatening. He could nearly sense the terror in the man's voice.
"I'm sending people today," the minister responded, "They're coming to kill you, whatever you are." Erik couldn't tell if he was lying or telling the truth. Either way, he had to respond to it somehow.
"I'm impossible to kill."
There was no reaction and Erik could faintly hear the steps leaving the area. Just a few minutes later, he had found a comfortable position to watch the people of Alfred Church, trying to put what had just occurred far behind him. He could forget it.
Erik didn't really recognize anyone, the people, in his opinion, were all so ordinary that they were beginning to look the same. The only one who stood out to him was, as usual, Christine. She was so... different looking (to him, at least) but that didn't mean she wasn't beautiful. Christine looked happy to be among the choir. They hadn't started singing yet.
He noticed sweet-looking Mrs. Daae, Christine's mother. He also remembered little Meg Giry, Christine's best friend, but the boy with her was unfamiliar to him.
With a slight pang of jealousy, Erik thought it might have been Raoul, Christine's other good friend. No, it wasn't, he reasoned. He was too good-looking.
Erik observed the boy further, he was actually gorgeous. He had curly blonde hair and big, brown eyes that complimented nice skin. He was like Apollo, the handsome God of Music. That's what Erik would have liked to look like. If he looked like that, he could live a normal life and Christine would love him...
He sighed. Well, good for Meg. Her boyfriend was everything Erik wasn't.
For a while, he allowed himself to enjoy the music. Sometimes, when there was a solo verse for just the women, or even better, just for the Sopranos, he could hear Christine's pretty, unique voice more clearly. In fact, he was nearly enjoying himself until he heard the door loudly open. He scowled, it was his absolute pet peeve when people walked in during a performance.
His entire body morphed to that of jealousy and anger, it was, of course, Raoul Chagny himself. God, Erik hated him. He absolutely hated Raoul Chagny. It was just his way of... being. He walked with such arrogance and Christine liked him so much. Erik didn't understand why, he didn't even think Raoul was that attractive.
His eyes wandered away from Christine, Raoul and Meg's boyfriend to Minister Martin. He was walking out of the room, again in the middle of a song (there really was no respect for music anymore) and Erik felt like he had to follow him.
For the first time in a long time, Erik walked along his passages feeling scared. What if the minister was true to his word, what if there really were people coming to kill him? He wasn't ready to die! Erik hadn't even lived that long. What if something happened? Would Christine cry?
Erik was not going to die.
"I know you're here," Minister Martin repeated, his tone tougher and suddenly menacing. Erik peered out from the wall, he wished he could take a step back. He was holding a gun. "Come out and face me!"
Erik stayed where he was. He could take that little man. Well, if he had a gun. For the first time in a long time, Erik would have to fight. With a deep breath, he reached in his coat pocket, desperately searching for something that could help him.
His hands stumbled across a long, cold rope and a sea of bad memories flooded back t o him. The Punjab Lasso.
It was funny, he thought, a few weeks ago this Minister Martin had no idea Erik even existed, and now they were prepared to kill each other.
"Come out, coward!" the man threatened again and Erik allowed himself to slip through the wall, almost feeling sorry for the minister. He didn't have a chance.
For a moment, the two men just stared at each other. Erik, tall, mysterious, half of his face covered by a porcelain mask. The minister, small, skinny and angry, gripping on to the old gun. It was an odd sight, really, to see a man of the church wielding a weapon.
A loud bang interrupted Erik's scattered thoughts. On instinct, he ungracefully jumped out of the way. The bullet erupted creating a loud noise. The choir, who was off in the distance still sang, all of the people in the Parish Room hoping that they had all just misheard something. Christine, most of all, oblivious that her angel was going to be a murderer.
Again.
Erik grabbed Minister Martin's collar, dragging him into the wall's passages. He shot and shot his gun, but the best thing he could do was graze Erik's side. It barely hurt him at all.
It was people like him that ruined everything. This man and all like him were the ones that kept Erik from everything. Why did people have to hate him? Why did his own mother abandon him because he was ugly?
The minister fired again and again, but he was starting to get sick from Erik's grip and was firing wherever he could. Without regret, the noose was slipped around Minister Martin's neck, and Erik found sick comfort in tightening it further and further.
Why him? Why did everything have to happen to him? Why did he have to be born like he was?
Why couldn't he be normal?
As the choir sang a more upbeat tune, Martin squirmed and struggled against the tightness of the rope around his neck until he stopped flailing, turned a sickly pale and collapsed on the ground. Erik laughed bleakly. Serves him right. He had every right to kill the man.
Now what to do with the body? He couldn't just leave it inside the wall to rot. Erik lifted the corpse and let it push against the wall in the Parish Room. In a few moments, the body would fall into the room and Erik quickly found another safe place to view the chaos soon to come.
The choir was still singing innocently, he hadn't meant for it to turn out that way, but the body fell from the wall Christine was halfway leaning against as she sang. She heard a creak and cautiously moved away. Her expression quickly changed and screamed as of the carcass of her minister nearly fell on top of her.
Her screams led to more screams as one of the women standing next to her led Christine away from the body. Barely anyone could stand to look at the strangled man, a noose still tied around his neck. The entire choir moved away from where they were standing, all faces terrified. The people scrambled around the room, reaching for loved ones.
"Please, remain where you are!" the elderly choirmaster commanded, "Please! Remain in your seats! This was all... an accident, simply an accident!"
However, people ran around the room, crowding around the only exit. Erik allowed himself to laugh at the dumb, terrified people.
It was people like them who had ruined his life...
Christine's face welled up in tears. She had figured it out, that her angel was the killer. Erik's laughing subsided as he watched her cry, a combination of fear and sadness. He watched as Raoul came over to her and put a comforting arm around Christine's shoulders. She was practically shaking and was crying into his sleeves.
Erik had made a terrible mistake.
Raoul had also managed to find Mrs. Daae and calm her down. Christine's mother was probably thankful to have a young man like Raoul Chagny in her life, Erik thought bitterly. Instead of feeling remorse for killing the minister, Erik wanted to use the Punjab Lasso again.
Meg and the beautiful boy had joined the little group. The small girl was going on and on, talking non-stop (her own way of coping) as the dead body continued to the lie there. No one went near it or made any attempt to get rid of it. The couple left and Erik was momentarily distracted by Meg and her the good-looking boy's hasty leave from the church and out into the parking lot.
Many little groups had emerged outside of the church, all were panicked and confused. Most people could not even seem to process what had happened. The police hadn't shown up yet. However, two important people were missing. Where were Christine and Raoul?
Erik watched as his Christine was still crying into her best friend's sleeve, for some reason, she had led him into the Sanctuary, where church services were usually held. As far as they knew, they were completely alone.
"Wby did you bring us here? We have to go back and find your mother!" Raoul insisted, nervously pacing down the pew aisles.
"No! We can't! He'll kill me, his eyes, they burn! He'll kill me!" Christine screamed, practically in hysterics. The best Raoul could do was pat her arm gently.
"Don't say that!" he responded, thinking of his best friend dead with a terrible shudder. "Who is this he?"
"The Angel of Music!" she answered, still crying.
"The Angel of- what? You can't be serious."
"That's just what Meg said! The Angel of Music is here. He killed the minister and if we're not careful we'll be next!"
"I don't understand, you're going to have to start from the beginning," Raoul suggested, helping Christine to a seat.
"Do you remember Little Lotte?" she asked him quietly.
Of course, how could he forget Mr. Daae's charming little fairytales? The memories flooded back to him. Raoul could just remember the two of them having picnics in his attic as the kind father told them stories of his homeland. Little Lotte had always been Christine's favorite, the tale of a young girl who was visited by the Angel of Music.
"As my father died, he promised me that he would always be protecting me through the Angel of Music. He's real, Raoul, and he lives in this very church and he taught me how to sing. He was always so kind, but something must have ruined him. He was the one that killed Minister Martin, I know it! I could tell by that awful laughter we heard as the body fell. He has secret passages in the wall, Raoul! I know he was the killer. And if he were to kill an innocent man, why wouldn't he want to murder me?"
"Oh, Christine..." Raoul muttered, a look of utter confusion on his face.
"I don't think he's an angel anymore. I think he's a man, a tortured genius. His voice and his music is absolutely heavenly, but his music expresses the sadness of this world. You have to look into his eyes, you don't understand pain unless you've looked into his eyes!" She paused for a breath, "And his music, you'll never hear anything like it..."
"What you heard was a dream, I'm sure of it."
"There is no dream! I've been to his home, directly underneath the floor we are standing on. Angel or not, there is a killer in this church who has brought back music to my life. He's taken my father's place and taught me everything I know."
Raoul watched helplessly as Christine burst into another fit of tears for her father, for her angel and for her own sanity. This angel- this man- was ruining everything.
"Please stop crying, please. It kills me to see you like this. It's going to be okay, I'm here," he whispered into her ear. His words seemed to help, "I'm here."
She reached out to hug him in the big empty room, the large church chandelier hanging above them like a protector. "Oh, Raoul, what are we going to do?"
"Christine, I love you," he confessed, deciding to let the words come out of his mouth.
From above, Erik could only watch. Christine, I love you. The words were like a dagger. Each syllable hurting him a little more. Her returning smile and look of mutual love killed him more than any lasso ever could.
"You do?" she asked excitedly, "How long have you?"
"A... a long time now, I think," Raoul admitted, desperately hoping her smile was not going to lead to laughing at him.
"I do too!" she said happily, embracing him in another hug, a more romantic hug. "I love you, Raoul!"
Both giggled like little children and Christine was spun around until she was dizzy. In one last horrible blow, they kissed and Erik could feel his heart physically break. He wanted to look away so badly, but forced himself to continue watching the perfect, young pair.
"And I'll never let anything happen to you," he promised her. Erik scowled, Christine was the last person he would want to harm.
He had given Christine everything. He was a friend, a father, he had written her beautiful music! Erik wanted to die, he wanted to kill himself.
No, he wanted to kill them. Erik wanted to kill Raoul and Christine. He wanted to kill them both.
In a moment of impulse and rage, he decided he was going to do it. Reaching from his spot, hidden inside the spacious balcony, he looked down. There was the chandelier, just above their heads, hanging innocently. It would not be hard to slip it off from it's place and leave quietly.
Christine was Erik's everything, yet he was nothing to her...
His hands quivering, he reached over to the hook of the two hundred year old chandelier and watched it fall.