He started rambling on and on about the joys of marriage while I could do no more than stare at the dark stain on the wallpaper that I had created. His dark figure paced back and forth in front of me, trailing a twitching shadow upon the floorboards.
"Why do you not look at me?" He demanded suddenly, snapping me out of my daze. "When I am masked, and you would look at me before without?"
His gold eyes, in the two black abysses they resided in, found where my gaze was directed.
"Forgive me," he said politely, as if apologizing to callers about a missed spot of dust.
He left me alone again, and I fought with my restraints, whimpering as I felt them dig into my wrists, burning. I gave a moan of despair, kicking my feet like a petulant child.
He returned with a bucket and rag, mopping up the spot on the wall and leaving behind a wet splotch, darker than the surrounding wallpaper, but no longer crimson. Once satisfied, he turned around to me and finally realized, as he was quite mad at that point, that I had been resisting my restraints.
"Oh, your poor wrists!" He moaned, falling to his knees before me.
I removed my eyes from him in disgust, horror, and still pity. The situation was pitiful... hopeless...
A thousand people dead, or my soul...
I knew my choice, the only choice that I could possibly make, but I... I couldn't say it! How could I condemn myself with my own tongue? And I was not saving the audience that would return tomorrow night, for I had cursed them the moment I lost Erik's ring, and the moment I had tried to flee.
"Erik, would you please release me?" I asked, interrupting his distress over the state of my wrists.
He averted his eyes, replying sadly, "You would try to kill yourself again."
"You've given me until tomorrow night... They hurt-"
"Of course, oh, they must hurt, my poor little Christine, let me free you..." He began to, gingerly, untie me. "Though I have no trust in you, surely you can see reason... You have until eleven o'clock tomorrow night to wait, surely you can be patient... and then you only have one word to say 'no' and it will be all over, with everyone!"
The ropes fell, and I clutched my wrists to my chest in sudden, inexplicable fear that he would bind them again.
"Oh, that deserves death, my Christine," he moaned, his eyes latching onto the angry red marks. "Do you want a balm for them?... Or do you no longer care?"
"A balm," I told him quietly.
"Ah, but I cannot leave you here alone... Would you like to see the kitchen? It's curious, you know, rather curious. And as we'll surely be dead by tomorrow night, you ought to see everything in my charming house before then."
My wrists burned, so I found myself nodding. He gave a gesture and took me through a door hidden in plain sight in the dining room. I had known there was a kitchen, simply never been permitted inside, or even seen him enter or exit most of the time. But now his bony hand beckoned me inside, and I held my hands to my neck, nearly choking myself, as it was comforting to have them there.
My eyes widened. On one side of the room was a typical kitchen, complete with a door that must lead into the wine cellar. On the other, two long tables were set up, and above and behind them, mismatched cabinets in mahogany, chestnut, oak, all fashioned differently. The tables were set with a few closed books, the one on the top of the stack seeming to be in Latin, and a variety of instruments of glass and metal. Most I had no idea as to the purpose of, save the differently shaped glass bottles. They must hold liquids to mix.
"Do you want to see what those do?" He inquired as he removed a silver cylindrical container from the chestnut cabinet. "Are you quite curious, my little Christine?"
"N-no," I said hastily.
He gave a sort of nod at this, prying open the container.
"Am I permitted to touch your hands now?" He asked.
To appease him, I extended my trembling hands to him, and replied, "Be gentle, please."
"Of course, my little Christine, I could never bear the thought of hurting you."
He dipped his finger into the balm, then placed it upon my sores, careful to apply no pressure. But as he began the second, I winced.
"Forgive me," he pleaded, returning my wrists to me once they were covered in a translucent white substance.
The sensation was cool, and I would have sighed in relief had I not been fully aware of my plight.
"Let me show you my instruments," he told me, then he chuckled, "scientific instruments, mind you. There are no violins and harps among these... Do you want to see? Petite curieuse?"
"No, please, I want to go ba-"
"Oh, but we have until eleven o'clock tomorrow!" He said, already rummaging through the cabinets and pulling out glass jars and silver containers. "After this, oh, after this I could show you card tricks! Ventriloquism! What fun you would have with me, you know, if we married. You would never be bored with me, I assure you, never... Is that not enough? Aren't most women bored with marriage, as men seem to always complain of? I would never complain, of course, I would love you forever. Not many men can promise that except for me. And- and!- I would be entirely faithful husband until the day I die- no, better, a devoted husband, who would want no more than to sit at your feet, my dear, as I did not so long ago... Now let me show you... Oh, what should I show you? How much do you know of science?"
"Very little... I think."
"Do you like colors? Pick a color, I'll make it appear."
"Erik, I don't-"
"Pick!"
"Purple, I suppose."
He chuckled, "You make this too easy, far too easy. You'll find this quite fun, you know, let me procure one last thing... It's quite pretty, I've only done it a few times before out of boredom, but stay back a little ways, over there, it's not particularly safe."
"What?" I squeaked.
"Oh, do you want to be burned by it?" He inquired, as if he had neglected to think of this.
I shook my head.
"Good, because all it would do is burn you, and you've already been hurt far too much, and anyone who harms you deserves a cruel death... Let me prepare it."
"But Erik, I don't want to see it, please, I don't want to-"
"You don't?" He asked, ceasing measuring out something that smelled of ammonia.
"No, I don't."
"Well, what do you propose instead?" He said, sealing the container.
"You act like this is a game."
He chuckled, "I act as if this is a game, I act... Do you want to play a game? Chess?"
"I want to sleep," I moaned.
"Sleep?" He asked as he put away the containers. "How can you sleep with such a decision weighing down your mind? Unless you have already decided?"
After a moment of hesitation, I nodded, my eyes on the stone floor.
"Ah, which?" He asked, rather nonchalant.
"Which one do you think?" I retorted. "The only one that's sensible."
"I believe it's sensible and fitting as well," he agreed, "for us both to be buried beneath the opera house."
"Buried? W-what about-?"
"Did I not say? Oh, my mind is quite occupied! Quite occupied! I cannot remember such simple explanations anymore... If you say no, to my proposal, then everyone will be dead and buried."
"I don't understand-"
"Then attempt to!... If you have no ideas for passing the time, my dear, then we should play chess, I think. That is certainly a fine game for the mind, to help you with your choice-"
"I know my choice!" I shouted.
"I know you do, my dear, there's no need to shout to reaffirm this. But you simply must wait until the opera house is filled again tomorrow-"
"You think I would kill all those people?"
He was silent for a moment, "What are you saying?"
"How could I kill all those innocent people?"
"How could you marry Erik?" He shot back, flying into rage. "'He fills me with horror!' That's what you said, I heard you?! How can you marry someone who fills you with horror?! Kill everyone, bury us, end this misery! You told the boy that you were in terror and misery, so now I am! Now you must choose!"
My lips parted to speak, but nothing issued. I tried anew, "I cannot kill those people."
"And you cannot marry me. What a lovely decision you have to make! How can you? Perhaps you cannot, and I shall choose for you come eleven o'clock."
"But Erik, I've already made my choice, I just said-"
"That you cannot kill everyone or marry me."
"No, I didn't say that! You're putting words in my mouth!"
"You more than hinted at the second, and you did say the first..."
I exhaled irritably, "It's like you don't want me to marry you."
He laughed, "It was different before, you see, quite different, what with love reciprocal- but let's play chess now, prepare your mind for its task."
"Erik, you'll just win-"
"Of course."
"That's no fun."
"I won't try very hard, then."
"But I don't want to... Could you show me card tricks?"
His eyes lit up, "Of course, my dear, if that is your preference... Come into the drawing room."
I followed him, my mind tearing itself apart as my head throbbed. At least my wrists no longer burned...
"Come sit," he told me, gesturing to the sofa. "You know I was a magician, am a magician, don't you?"
I shook my head gently, "Not really."
"But I'm not a sorcerer, I deal with science, my little Christine, science of the mind... See? I'm putting this card- the queen of hearts- into my hand. Now tell me, where is it?"
"In your hand?"
He laughed, showing two empty hands to me, "No, try again. Guess!"
My head pounded in my ears, but I gestured behind him to the fireplace mantle.
"But how could it be there?" He inquired. "Did you see me turn round to place it there?"
I shook my head, and he promptly pulled the same card as earlier out from behind a glazed porcelain tortoise. He had such odd knick-knacks in his house...
I realized I needed to please him, so I clapped my hands, ignoring the hot pain in my wrists caused by this action. He beamed madly, and I restrained a shudder threatening to course through me.
"Now, how many cards are in a deck?" Erik asked of me, coming directly in front of the sofa.
"I don't play cards," I replied.
"Guess."
"Fifty?"
"Fifty-two, very close, my little Christine. Now, how many are here? Count for me, just to be sure, a second pair of eyes. I can only perform with a full deck."
I spread them out with trembling hands. One, two, three-
"A wife to entertain," Erik sighed as I counted. "How wonderful that would be, to have a normal house with ordinary doors and windows, and a wife inside it. Any other man has a wife whom he can adore and take to the park on Sundays, but other men cannot do what I can! We can play music as much as we like, all day, until we swoon away with delight..." he sighed again, and I was trembling so terribly I had to start counting over again. "And when you became tired with that, I could entertain you quite well with tricks like these... Oh, have you started over? Counting twice for good measure? We do have until eleven o'clock tomorrow, and we must fill that time..."
"I think one is missing," I told him.
"But where is it?" He chuckled, reaching behind my ear.
I pushed myself back against the cushions with fright, and he laughed, his bony hand now clutching the two of spades.
"I wonder how you could sing with that inside your ear?" He said, now shuffling the deck. "Are you cold? You're shaking again."
"A little," I lied.
He gestured to the fire, "Or perhaps excited by your decision?"
I crept over in front of the flames, wishing they would swallow me up. He stood over me, his hands now devoid of cards.
"Are we done playing?" I questioned.
"Do you want to continue-?"
"No, please... I'm tired."
"You could decide now, and sleep."
Tears welled up behind my eyes, but I forced them back painfully.
"Erik," I said cautiously, "as we have until eleven o'clock tomorrow... Won't you tell me about yourself?"
"You already know about Erik," he retorted. "My poor unhappy mother despised me, so I ran away to become a magician, and then an architect here."
"But what all have you seen? Where have you traveled-?"
"So now that there is a deadline, Erik should throw away all the rules he made down here?! Do you forget? Perhaps you hit your head hard enough to forget, allow me to remind you: do not pry into Erik's secrets."
"Why?"
He chuckled, "Why? Why, my darling? My little Christine? Why indeed? Why is such an intriguing question... Why should we die tomorrow night, when you could simply say the impossible words, 'I shall marry Erik!' and then sleep, as you so desire?"
I mouthed the words, but my voice caught in my throat.
"Why do you mumble again?" He inquired. "You've never mumbled before, you're always quite loud and obstinate to Erik. Most husbands wouldn't like a wife like that, you know, wives are supposed to be quiet, after all. But I would never silence you. You could speak as much as you want as my wife, as much as you want! Your voice is so lovely, my dear little Christine, it would be a shame for any man to silence it-"
"No man would've. I told you before; I never wish to marry."
He cackled madly, "So you were to be a mistress to the little vicomte? After all, you were trying to flee Erik, when he had done nothing but love and care for you with all his being... No? You didn't want to be a mistress? Then forgive me, what did he hope to gain?"
"That doesn't matter now-"
"Nothing matters, that is why you will say it now. What did he hope to gain?"
"Yes, Erik," I said, taking a shuddering breath, "I planned to marry him..."
"Aha! You admit it, and you are such a truthful, good girl, my Christine, so I have to take you at your word."
I rose, smoothing down my white skirts. I needed to put this to rest, just say the words, say them, save everyone now, then you can sleep, Christine...
How could I sleep ever again? It would be in eternal sleep or lying awake in fear!
How miserable it was to always be afraid...
"Why are you silent?" Erik asked. "Are you bored? I won't let you be bored, come, let me show you some ventriloquism to pass the time-"
"I'll marry you," I whispered, my heart threatening to tear apart.
"What was that?"
I hurled the words at him before I could think, "I'll marry you!"
He had died, turned to stone like in mythology, for he did not blink, nor breathe, and I could've sworn his heart had ceased beating. The mad gleam in his golden eyes had vanished.
"What?" He asked, his voice a wisp.
"You heard m-me," I said pitifully. "Won't you please let me sleep now?"
"You... must open your gift first."
Why did he have to torment me further? Hadn't I given him what he wanted?