Author's note: Just a quick heads up - this chapter is going to be pretty dark. In fact, I had to bump up the rating of the story to Mature. But since you're reading a Phantom of the Opera fanfic, I'm guessing you're into those kinds of love stories, am I right? ?
Warning:*Spoilers*
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Vomiting/Attempted rape/violence
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A couple of weeks had passed.
Celine was taking the boat to the Phantom's lair, a routine on her days off that had become a habit for her since Christmas Eve when she had begun to learn how to cook French dishes. On her days off from singing lessons, Erik would skip breakfast and spend most of his day lost in his passion for composing and writing operas since she could make her own breakfast now. After his musical reverie, Erik would return to the kitchen to make dinner, and then they would spend time together, talking and enjoying each other's company.
But today was different.
It had been an hour past the usual time for Erik's return, and Celine had grown increasingly concerned. As she neared the land of the lair, she began to hear shouting and cries of pain.
Her heart pounded with increasing worry, and a cold sense of dread settled deep within her as she searched the surroundings for any sign of Erik. Her eyes darted frantically from one spot to another, but he was nowhere to be seen.
Without hesitation, Celine swiftly got out of the boat and began making her way towards the direction of the noises, her movements quick and determined
As she drew closer, his cries of agony grew louder, and she found Erik lying in his bed, whimpering in his sleep. Her heart broke at the sight of him like this.
She had never been in this part of his lair before, and she didn't know what to do.
She called out to him, "Erik, wake up! You're sleeping; it's only a dream!" with a raised voice filled with concern.
But it seemed that her words were not enough. Erik's eyes remained shut tight, and his body continued to writhe in pain. Celine took a closer look at him and noticed that his face was twisted in agony as if he was vividly living through a nightmare.
Celine quickly stepped closer to Erik. He didn't have on his mask and wig, and Celine could see the tears streaming down his face.
"Please... Don't hit me. No more!" Erik wept before flinching harshly as if being struck in his sleep.
Celine gasped as tears filled her eyes, and her hands flew over to her mouth. She knew what Erik was dreaming about. She could see the pain and fear etched on his face, and it broke her heart. She approached Erik's bed, standing behind him as he lay there. Tears streamed down his face, and he wept uncontrollably, pleading for the beatings to stop.
He was back there again, in the freak show as a little boy, being beaten by those who were racially her people.
No wonder he hadn't liked me when we first met. Celine thought darkly. I probably look just like his abusers.
For a moment, she felt dirty about the way she looked, but the memories of Erik's acceptance of her came rushing back.
Suddenly, Erik let out a pained wail, and Celine gasped again. Without thought, she moved close to him, placing a soothing hand on his cheek and stroking it softly.
"Erik, get up," She loudly urged, but despite her pleas, he wouldn't wake up. However, he did look calmer at her touch.
Celine continued to stroke Erik's cheek, whispering comforting words to him as she tried to calm him down. Gradually, as she stroked his face, Erik's cries grew quieter, and the pain on his face began to subside.
Celine then ran a hand through Erik's hair, and he let out a contented sigh.
"Erik," Celine began, about to ask him to wake up again when suddenly the sound of her voice jolted him awake in terror. He was caught between the world of his nightmare and reality.
Reflexively, Erik's body elbowed hard whoever it was that was touching him, believing it to be one of his abusers. His left elbow struck hard and square in Celine's stomach, making her lose her breath.
Celine strained for air and doubled over in pain.
Erik's eyes snapped open, his heart racing with fear and adrenaline as he quickly moved away from the person who had been touching him. He sat up in bed, his breathing heavy and labored, until he turned around and saw that it was Celine. The sight of her caused him to fully awaken from his nightmare.
Instantly, the Phantom rose inside of him. With anger as a shield, he had appeared and filled him with the emotion at the sight of Celine during his vulnerable and embarrassed state. The Phantom could feel the tears running down his face from when he had been dreaming, and he felt so ashamed that she had caught him at such a low point.
"You!" He darkly shouted, his voice filled with rage. "You dare to enter here and invade my privacy?! How dare you, you little-!"
But the sight of her became clear in his vision and he became instantly silenced.
She was paler than he had ever seen her before, and her hands were at her mouth as she was doubled over, clearly in pain.
The anger that had consumed him just moments before was quickly replaced with fear and concern for Celine. He wondered what was wrong with her. It wasn't until he felt the stinging pain in his elbow that he realized what he had done.
"Oh! Oh no!" He loudly cried out in horror, feeling sick with guilt.
Celine's throat tightened as she fought to keep down the contents threatening to spew forth. The last thing she wanted was to ruin the pristine carpet beneath her feet. In a swift motion, she ran away from Erik and retreated to a safe distance, the cold, bare stone floor now her only companion.
With a deep breath, Celine surrendered to the churning in her stomach, falling to her knees and doubling over in agony. She couldn't help but let out a guttural retch, her body wracked with violent spasms as she emptied much of the contents of her breakfast onto the ground before her.
Erik's alarmed cry of her name echoed through the room, his steps pounding against the floor as he rushed to her side. But Celine could only look at the ground as she vomited again, the remnants of her omelette splattering in disgusting chunks of yellow on the floor beneath her.
Tears cascaded down Erik's face as he knelt beside Celine's crumpled form, his hand trembling as he touched her back. He needed confirmation that what he feared he had done had happened.
"Did I hit you?" He asked, through tears. It wouldn't have been the first time he had unknowingly hurt someone while he slept. Erik remembered all too well an incident with Madame Giry, where he had nearly broken her wrist.
Celine trembled as she spoke, her words stuttering out in a shaky voice. "Y-Yes, b-but i-it w-was an a-accident-t."
She felt so cold all of a sudden, and then hot and clammy as if the room temperature had shifted drastically. The sensation was overwhelming, and for a moment, she feared she might pass out.
Erik's heart clenched with guilt and worry as he placed a hand on Celine's forehead, feeling the damp layer of sweat on her skin. He had caused her this and he couldn't bear to see her suffering.
"Y-You know it w-would be n-nice if...If you didn't w-wallow here with m-me in the in the mire. It's s-sort of embarrassing to have you here b-beside me a-as I v-vomit. I'm sor-sorry for d-dirtying your h-home," Celine said, her voice shaking and full of shame.
"I don't give a damn about your vomit, Celine. I'm more concerned with you," He said, his voice cracking with emotion. "I'm so so sorry for what I've done. I'm so sorry."
The tears continued to stream down his face, blurring his vision as he nestled his head against Celine's. Erik wanted to die. He had hurt the woman he loved, and he didn't know if he could ever forgive himself.
He had woken up from a horrible nightmare to something more terrible.
Celine spit out a chunk of egg from her cheek.
"It was an accident," Celine answered back, chiding him while mustering momentary strength to avoid stammering. "A-And so much for privacy!" she added, attempting to use humor to calm his tears that were breaking her heart. "W-what? Y-you didn't t-think I was g-going to let you get a-away with what you said e-earlier, did you?"
Despite his sobs, Erik let out a laugh, tears falling from his chin as he looked down at her. It was a brief moment of levity, but he couldn't shake the feeling of guilt and remorse that weighed heavy on him. He had caused her pain, and he hated himself for it.
There was a heavy and peaceful silence between them as Celine closed her eyes, trying to steady her breathing. Suddenly, an audible bubbling erupted from her stomach, and she knew instantly what was coming next.
"Ugh!" Celine groaned, clutching her stomach, feeling the contents painfully churning inside her.
Erik's eyes widened in terror.
"What is it?!" He pleaded, grabbing her sides.
"Erik, undo my corset," She begged, her voice strained with urgency.
Erik's expression turned to confusion, but he then quickly understood what she needed and went to work, his fingers fumbling with her gown and the laces of her corset. Once he had freed her from the constriction of the corset, another rumble echoed from her stomach. This time, she knew she could release all that she held without being restricted by the corset.
Celine held her dress tightly to her chest to keep from anything showing and vomited again, the sound of her retching filling the air. This time, Erik held her hair out of the way, his eyes filled with worry.
When she dry heaved a few times after that, Celine knew she was finally done puking. She groaned weakly, feeling drained and exhausted from the ordeal.
"Erik, are your hands colder than I am?" She questioned.
Erik placed a hand on her cheek, feeling the heat radiating off her skin.
"Yes, you're quite warm," He said, his voice thick with tears.
"Please, place your cold hands on my back and forehead," Celine pleaded. "I feel dizzy."
Erik did as she asked.
Celine felt great relief as Erik's hands rested on her forehead and back, the coolness easing her feverish body. She focused on his touch, letting the coldness of his hands seep into her skin. The darkness in her vision subsided as her breathing evened out.
Normally, such intimate contact would have set him over the edge with a searing passion for her. But not now. Not when every fiber of his being was consumed with worry for her. If anything, what he was tempted the most to do at the moment was to hold her and rock her in his arms, beginning to apologize for all eternity.
They stayed like that for some time, tears still falling from Erik's eyes while Celine had her eyes shut, focused on breathing and trying to gather strength. As the seconds ticked by, Erik's hands gradually began to feel warm against her skin, and Celine felt a sense of relief that she was strong enough not to faint. She opened her eyes and whispered to him that it was enough, thanking him for his help.
Erik pulled back his hands but then grazed a finger over her cheek. She was still warm.
"I'll be right back," He murmured softly. "I'm going to get some water to cool you down more. It should help."
He swiftly made his way where the water lay in his lair, scooping up a large amount with both hands. He moved quickly, his heart racing with the desire to get back to Celine.
As he knelt down beside her again, he could see a thick sheen of sweat on her forehead, and he knew that he had to act fast. With a gentle touch, he splashed her face with the cool water, then poured the rest of it down her back.
Celine let out a startled gasp as the chilly water hit her back, but the sensation quickly turned into a refreshing relief, just like the water Erik had splashed on her face had been.
She felt so grateful for his presence and care.
"Thank you, Erik," she whispered, offering him a small smile. She felt strong enough now to look at him directly, her stuttering having finally completely subsided.
Erik's face and eyes were red from his tears, but he returned her smile with a gentle one of his own. It was then that he noticed her arms trembling as she struggled to hold up her dress.
"Here, let me cover you," He murmured softly, beginning to take off his white shirt.
As he began to remove his shirt, Celine's eyes widened in surprise, her face growing hot. She quickly looked away from him and down at the mess of vomit on the ground, finding the sight suddenly fascinating.
Erik carefully dressed his white shirt over Celine, making sure she was covered and comfortable. He then looked at her face, noticing that her cheeks were flushed with a bright red color.
"Celine, my dear why are you red again?" Erik frowned, placing his hand on her forehead. "You're all warm again too."
"I don't know." She lied, avoiding looking at him. "Perhaps it's a healthy color returning to my face." She offered before mentally reciting the Hail Mary.
"I'll go down and get some more water," Erik offered as he started to stand up.
"How about water to drink instead?" Celine interjected, feeling thirsty and wanting to get rid of the taste of vomit in her mouth. She also hoped that Erik would have to go to the kitchen to get water for her, giving her a chance to cool down at the thought of him being shirtless and so close to her.
Erik looked to the corner of his room where he usually kept a glass for himself to drink in the middle of the night. He spotted it on a table next to the paper and pen he kept in case of inspiration.
"Yes, I have water right here," He said, glad he could assist her. He turned away from her and headed over to fetch the water. Celine looked to see where he had gone out of curiosity, and sucked in air at the sight, quickly looking away as hot tears filled her eyes.
Erik had so many scars covering his back from his abuse that it shattered her heart. Quickly she wiped away her tears before he could see them. The scars, thick and gnarled, crisscrossed his skin in an intricate web of a story of pain and suffering.
"Here," Erik said offering her the glass.
Erik extended a glass of water towards Celine, who plastered a forced smile on her face as she accepted it. The sight of Erik's bare, chiseled torso and muscular arms was no longer tempting, not after seeing the countless scars that crisscrossed his back from past abuses. Her heart sank at the thought of what he must have endured.
Celine sat up, putting some distance between herself and the mess she had made on the floor, and took a long swig of water. She swirled it in her mouth, hoping to rid herself of the taste of vomit and rinse her mouth, and then she swallowed it down.
Celine tried to hold back the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes as she spoke, attempting to sound calm and collected. "Erik, are you okay?" she asked, but her voice cracked mid-sentence, and her question was punctuated by a burst of tears. She quickly covered her mouth, trying to stifle her sobs.
Erik's eyebrows came together in distress.
"What's wrong?!" He asked, taking a step closer to her.
Celine cleared her throat, seeing the innocence, confusion, and sadness in his eyes.
She took a deep breath, gathering her composure before speaking. "When I came here... you were having a nightmare and talking in your sleep... Your back," she said, her voice trembling with emotion as she struggled to hold back her tears.
Erik's eyes widened in realization, the memory of having the scars on his back coming back to him. It was a part of himself he often forgot, it being hidden away from the world's prying eyes. But in that moment, with Celine's mention, it was brought to the forefront of his mind.
"Celine, Did...Did I frighten you?... Disgust you with it?" he asked, his voice laced with fear and vulnerability. It felt as though he now had another, even larger disfigurement than the one on his face.
Celine's brows furrowed in anger, and for a second, she was glad she no longer held the glass Erik had given her, as she was certain she would have at least cracked it in in her hand.
"Frighten? Disgust?!" She spat back, her words seething with fury. "I'm crying for you because I'm sad about what happened to you, you idiot!"
As Celine's words hit him, Erik felt the pain of his past memories come flooding back.
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Down once more to the dungeons of
my black despair! Down we plunge
to the prison of my mind!
Down that path into darkness, deep as hell!
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Why, you ask, was I bound and chained in this cold and dismal place?
Not for any mortal sin, but the wickedness of my abhorrent face!
Hounded out by everyone!
Met with hatred everywhere!
No kind words from anyone!
No compassion anywhere!
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This face which earned a mother's fear and loathing...
A mask, my first unfeeling scrap of clothing...
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I love her! Does that mean nothing?
I love her! Show some compassion!
The world showed no compassion to me!
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The memory of Christine's kiss surfaced Erik's mind, reminding him of the first act of compassion he had ever received. The kiss had changed him, allowing him to give out sacrificial love, but it had also been like a poisoned chalice: At first, the kiss had seemed wonderful and lovely, but it had ultimately caused him pain and damage in the long run. Christine had chosen Raoul over him, leaving him alone in the depths of his personal hell. He had rotted away in silence without music for over a year until Celine had arrived.
Now she was bringing with her a different kind of compassion that he had never experienced before. One that wasn't a double edge sword. She was someone who was crying for him when no one else would, not even his own mother.
Tears streamed down Erik's face once more, but this time they were tears of overwhelming gratitude. He couldn't believe that he had found someone who had actually shown him such compassion and understanding. He took a few steps towards her and dropped to his knees, wrapping his arms around her tightly.
Celine felt the weight of Erik's embrace and the heat of his tears on her neck. Her heart ached for him, and she rubbed his back with her hands, feeling the raised scars beneath her fingertips and palms.
Erik's tears flowed freely, running down his face as he wept into Celine's neck. He couldn't help it, he was overwhelmed with emotions. Celine had been kind to him, showing him compassion in a way that no one had ever done before and he which he had always desired.
"Have you ever told anyone what happened to you, Erik?" Celine asked softly, as she held him close. "I know a little, but clearly much more has happened to you than I knew about."
Erik pulled away from her and looked at her, his eyes red and puffy.
"I...I tried once," He answered, his voice hoarse from the emotion. He wiped his tears away with the back of his hand.
Celine's brow furrowed as she tried to understand what he was saying.
"The woman you loved?" She guessed, a stab of jealousy shooting through her.
Erik nodded slowly, the memories of the past weighing heavily on him.
Celine took Erik's hands in hers.
"So you never got to tell anyone your whole story?" She asked gently, her voice filled with compassion.
Erik shook his head, sniffling as he tried to regain control of his emotions.
Celine frowned, her heart aching for the pain that Erik had been carrying alone for so long.
"Erik, tell me what you want to share and I'll listen," She said, her voice soft and soothing. "It's not good to carry such pain alone and for so long."
Erik stared at her in shock, his bottom lip trembling.
Erik felt a lump form in his throat, and he struggled to speak. He had been carrying his secrets and his pain in seclusion for an eternity, he wasn't sure where to start or how much to reveal. But the warmth of Celine's touch and the softness in her eyes made him feel safe.
"I don't know where to start," He admitted finally.
Celine gave his hands a reassuring squeeze. "It's okay. Just start with whatever comes to mind first."
Erik took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. When he opened them again, he looked at Celine, his eyes full of pain.
"My father died before I was born," He began. "I never knew him. And when I was delivered, my mother rejected me because of my deformity. She hated me. She refused to hold me, to nurse me. I was fearfully fed milk with a bottle by one of the maids as I lay in my carriage."
He paused, taking a deep breath, and continued. "I grew up untouched and unloved. Locked away in an attic with only a few toys to keep me company. One of them was a monkey that had held cymbals in his hands. Much like that one over there." He pointed to the monkey music box sitting on a shelf nearby.
"I remember my earliest memory being intrigued by the sound it could make," He said, his voice growing softer. "It was the first sign of my musical interest."
He took another deep breath and continued with a hint of bitterness.
"One day, the attic door was accidentally left unlocked after I had been fed. I used the chance given to me to experience the world outside from the attic walls and windows for the first time in my life. I ran outside in the daylight to meet the children I had always seen playing together out on the street. But instead of welcoming me with open arms as I had dreamed so many times, I was met with fright and screaming. There was a child's father nearby who tried to trample me with his horse."
He clenched his fists, his eyes closing in pain. "I ran as fast as my feet would take me, and the faces that saw me as I did, met me with fear or scorn and disgust. I stayed hidden until night. That's when I learned that night was both a friend and a curse for me. She protected me but frightened me. I was afraid of the monsters of the night, but I myself to others was a monster. I just hadn't known it yet.
Under the light of moonlight and stars, I ran back home but was greeted by the closing of curtains by my mother and the workers there.
I had been abandoned.
For days I lived in the shadows of the forest and only entered the city alone at night to look for food."
He looked at Celine, his eyes shining with unshed tears.
"And then one night, as I was delighting in having found an apple in a pile of trash, the world around me turned to black." He fell silent, lost in the memories of that night.
His eyes fixed on a point in the distance before he continued. "My head had been covered and I had been shackled and chained and thrown into the pit meant for devils like me. I had become a part of the freakshow. You know the rest. That's where I was beaten and given the scars you saw."
Celine's heart ached as she looked at Erik's face, seeing the pain etched deep within his eyes. She felt a deep sense of sadness for the little boy he had been, and the thought of the cruelty he had endured filled her with anger.
"How old were you when you ran away?" She asked.
"I was six years old," He answered, his voice low and strained.
Celine's eyes widened.
"So you spent three years being beaten and put on display for others to ridicule you?" She asked, her voice filled with horror.
Erik's gaze shifted downward, his shoulders slumping in defeat.
"Yes," he said quietly. "It was a living hell."
Celine gaped at him, her eyes huge.
'Erik, You're such a strong soul!... You experienced such horrors yet can find and produce beauty through music. I don't think you understand how incredible you truly are."
Erik's heart became a puddle at her words, having never considered himself in that light before.
"Celine..." Erik began slowly, looking into her eyes and feeling every fiber of his being calling out to her.
"Yes?"
I love you.
I love you.
From the depths of my being, from flesh and bone to the marrow of my soul, my dearest and fairest Persephone, know that my love for you knows no bounds.
The confession of love was on the tip of his tongue but out of fear Erik swallowed it down.
Never before in his life had he felt more emasculated.
Her eyes were locked on his. There was something in the way he was looking at her that made her heart skip a beat. She could feel the intensity of his gaze, and it made her feel both nervous and excited at the same time. Part of her couldn't help but hope that he was going to tell her that he had feelings for her, but she quickly pushed that thought aside. Why would she even think that? They were just friends, after all.
She was just a gypsy, and he was a white Frenchman. It was impossible that he could be interested in her in that way.
"Celine, I want to thank you... and you look like you could use some rest. Would you like me to take you back to your room so you can change and lay down? I'll carry you." He offered, mentally kicking himself for being so cowardly.
Celine's heart sank at Erik's offer. She turned her eyes away momentarily, trying to hide the disappointment that threatened to show on her face. She wanted to be close to him, to feel his touch and his warmth, but she knew deep down that it was impossible.
"Thank you, Erik," she said softly, looking back at him with a smile "That would be kind of you."
But please put on a shirt first. PLEASE. Celine mentally begged him. She knew could not handle being held in his bare arms and chest as he carried her. Her face would be left red as it could get.
"I'll put something on before we go." Erik murmured absent-mindedly, making his way to his clothes which caused Celine let out a sigh of relief.
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Two days later and booming and crackling of thunder reverberated across the night sky, causing the Opera House to tremble and shake. Despite the roaring storm, Celine found the sound to be peaceful, almost soothing, as she sketched on the stage of the Opera House. Beside her, Marcel, her small furry companion, was gnawing on a dog toy. She couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of the small dog, completely unfazed by the deafening noise of the storm.
Madame Giry had just left after admiring Celine's artwork, telling her it was good enough to sell now. This had sparked excitement in Celine, and the two women were now in talks about which piece to sell first.
Celine considered that perhaps any money she made with her artwork could go towards helping the orphanages and the poor. She was already saving her money she made from working for Erik, and was planning to spend it on improving her uncle's life soon.
As she worked on the shading of the hand of the woman she was drawing, the pencil slipped from her hand and fell to the floor.
As the pencil clattered to the floor, Celine let out a small sigh of frustration. But before she could even reach down to pick it up, Marcel, her mischievous little puppy, had already grabbed it and was running off with it.
"Marcel, come back here!" Celine called out, laughing despite herself. "It's not a stick, I need that!"
With a grin on his face, Marcel continued to run, zigzagging through the rows of seats around the stage before disappearing from view. Marcel moved with remarkable speed, his little legs carrying him swiftly towards the backdoors of the Opera House, just as Celine had predicted. They were the doors that they always used to enter and leave the building with.
But as they neared the doors, Celine's heart sank when she saw that one of them was open. It was clear that Madame Giry had forgotten to shut it behind herself and lock it.
The door was moving thanks to the wind, repeatedly swinging open and nearly shut with a loud creaking noise.
"Marcel, no!" Celine scolded and cried out, trying to get him to stop. But the young poodle was too excited to listen. With a happy yip, he darted out of the door.
Seconds ticked by like hours as Celine made her way to the door and pushed her way out, heart pounding with fear and worry.
"Marcel!" she cried out, hoping against hope that he would hear her and come back to her.
As she burst out into the rain, her eyes widened in fear at the sight that greeted her. With a sudden crack of lightning, two French officers were illuminated in the darkness of night, standing just a few feet away from her.
As Celine stood there, staring at the two officers, she could feel her heart pounding in her chest. One of the officers held Marcel in his arms, looking stunned at the sight of her. Meanwhile, the other had his back turned to her, his hands in a way that made it clear he was urinating
There was one thing Celine was certain of in life: Gypsies and French police officers did not get along. And now, here she was, a lone gypsy woman standing in front of two of them. Her parents had tried to shield her from being in such a situation her entire life, and the community of her people had always taken precautions to protect their daughters from such encounters. Celine felt vulnerable and exposed, like a lamb just thrown to the wolves.
Celine knew all too well about the reputation of French men in general when it came to gypsy women. Many were known to touch them inappropriately on the streets as they walked by, knowing they would face no consequences. But officers were a different story altogether, and the rumors about them were much worse.
She knew Erik had just left to the cellars play the pipe organ after Madame Giry had left, so he could not be there for her or hear her.
She was on her own.
Her hands went straight to her pockets, and she was relieved to feel the cold, hard metal of her gun in her right pocket.
As she stood in front of the two officers, one of them holding Marcel, Celine felt a surge of fear. The officer holding Marcel elbowed his friend and gestured with his chin toward Celine, drawing his attention to her.
"Charles, look at what we got here. You ever saw one dress like that?" He asked.
The man who Celine knew now was named Charles fixed his pants and turned around. His eyes quickly roamed over her body, undressing her with his gaze. The feeling of disgust rose inside Celine, but she kept her face calm and composed.
"Wonder who she stole it from?" The nameless officer continued, and both of them shared a snicker.
Celine's heart pounded as she forced herself to keep a calm demeanor, even as she felt the officers eyes linger on her in a way that made her skin crawl. With practiced ease, she plastered on a kind smile and spoke in a voice that was as smooth as silk.
"Hello, officers. It's a pleasure to see you tonight. I'm happy to see such gentlemen as yourselves protecting our city," She said, her eyes flickering between them. "Please do not mind me. I mean no harm. I'm just staying here for the night. May I please have my dog back? Then I will leave you both alone to continue your noble duties?"
Charles and the other officer exchanged a look, and a smirk played at the corners of their lips.
"Oh, we will show you noble duties," Charles said, and the other officer laughed with a deep, rumbling belly laugh.
Celine's instincts kicked in, and she took a step back, suddenly feeling as though she were in grave danger. She had tried to suck up to the officers to avoid confrontation, but it had failed her.
Celine felt her blood run cold as the man holding her precious Marcel tightened his grip around the puppy's throat, causing it to yelp and cry out in pain. Her stomach lurched with fear and anger, and she felt powerless to protect her beloved pet.
"You move anywhere, sweetheart, and it's a goner," The man hissed, his eyes gleaming with malice. "It'll be all your fault."
Celine's heart raced as Charles began to move closer to her. She could feel the menace emanating from him, and her instincts told her to run. But she knew she couldn't leave her poor poodle behind.
"All you've got to do is lay on the ground, and we'll each have a turn with you," Charles said, a lecherous grin spreading across his face. "Then the puppy gets to go, and you get to go about your merry thieving business."
Celine's heart pounded in her chest as she surveyed the situation, her eyes scanning the two men with a steely determination. Her mind raced as she tried to think of a way to save herself and her dog, and she knew that she had to act fast.
With a sudden surge of courage, Celine made her move. Before Charles could get any closer, she pulled out her gun and aimed it squarely at the face of the man holding Marcel. Without hesitation, she pulled the trigger and he dropped dead to the ground. Marcel escaped from the corpse's grip.
It was the first time Celine had ever taken a life, and the weight of the moment hit her like a ton of bricks. She felt a mix of fear, disgust, and relief wash over her, all at once.
Her shaking hand moved as quickly as it could to aim at the other officer, but he was faster than she anticipated. He moved quickly, grabbing her wrist and yanking her arm down with such force that she dropped her gun. Celine let out a cry of pain as she stumbled, her eyes still locked on the remaining officer.
"Fucking gypsy cunt! You're dead!" The officer snarled as he backhanded Celine, sending her reeling.
At that moment, a memory of her father's words came flooding back to her.
"You either fight or run," he had told her. " If any man or anyone ever tries to hurt you: If you can't run away, you fight with all you have to save your life or die trying."
Summoning all her courage, Celine braced herself and prepared to fight back. Remembering her sharp nails, she quickly moved her left hand and began to gouge out the officer's right eye with her thumb. The man let out a cry of pain and stumbled backward, but before she could press her advantage, he pushed her roughly, causing her to fall hard to the ground on her back.
The officer got on top of her using his heavy weight against her small form and grabbed her by the throat with both of his hands as his eye was bleeding profusely and he began choking her.
With all her might, Celine tried to pull the officer's hands off her neck, but he was too strong.
She felt herself slipping away. She was on the brink of unconsciousness when she heard Erik's voice calling out to her from the opera house.
"Celine?" He called out in concern, his voice echoing through the night.
Desperately, she tried to call out to him, but the officer's hands were crushing her windpipe, and she couldn't make a sound. With her vision starting to fade, she knew she had to do something drastic to break free from his grip around her throat.
She thought quickly.
Summoning all her strength, she managed to roll up the officer's sleeves and sink her nails into his flesh. She raked her nails down hard, leaving deep, bloody lines in her wake. The man let out a howl of pain and drew back his arms to inspect the damage, giving Celine just enough time to gasp for air and call out to Erik for help.
Celine took a deep breath and released as loud as she could a blood-curdling scream:
"ERIIIIK! Erik, help me!"
.
.
.
Erik had been halfway to the lair when an idea struck him, causing him to turn around. He had wondered if Celine would be willing to try playing the violin and sing while he played the organ.
Why hadn't he thought of it before?
He retraced his steps to where he had last seen Celine and Marcel on the stage, but they were nowhere to be found. He considered that she might have taken Marcel outside for a brief walk to relieve him.
He made his way to the opera house back doors and noticed one of them was halfway opened, flapping back and forth in the storm. This unnerved him. Celine had never left the door open like that before.
Unless maybe she wasn't outside and perhaps Madame Giry had left the door open?
"Celine?" he called out, his unease growing with each step.
Just then, Marcel came bounding inside, yelping frantically as he raced past Erik's feet. Fear gripped Erik, and he quickened his pace. As he reached the door, he heard her blood-curdling scream from outside.
Erik burst through the door, his eyes scanning the darkness for any sign of Celine. Lightning illuminated the horrific scene before him. An officer was on top of an unconscious Celine. Erik felt his heart stop as he watched the officer hit her face with such force that he knew he had killed her.
Never before in his life had Erik experienced such overwhelming pain, like a thousand knives plunging into his heart at once. It was as if someone had stomped on his soul, leaving him shattered and broken beyond repair.
With a guttural cry of anguish and a roar of fury, Erik launched himself at the officer, tearing him off of Celine's limp body. The officer, so consumed with his desire to kill, was caught off guard by Erik's sudden presence and attack, and he lashed out, hitting Erik in the nose. But Erik barely registered the pain. It was nothing compared to the agony he felt inside at the sight of Celine lying lifeless on the ground.
Erik's hands shook with fury as he tightened his grip on the officer, throwing him to the ground with a resounding thud. He ripped off his mask and wig, revealing his deformed face. Erik wanted the man to feel the same terror that he was sure Celine had felt before she died.
The officer's eyes bulged in fear. Paralyzed with horror, he could do nothing as Erik took him by the neck and brought him into a deathly chokehold.
"You killed the woman I love!" Erik roared, his voice full of rage and agony.
The officer tried to escape, but Erik was too strong, strengthened by the pain he had never felt before. He wanted this man to pay for what he had done, for taking Celine away from him forever. The officer's struggle became weaker and weaker, his life was ebbing away. Erik's anger and pain boiled inside him as he continued to squeeze the man's neck until he felt a snap.
He let the body fall from his arms like trash and ran over to Celine.
But as he took and held her body in his arms, Erik's world crumbled.
"She's dead. She's dead. She's dead," He repeated, his voice cracking with despair. The rain fell harder, washing away and mingling with Erik's tears as he sobbed over her freely.
The reality of never seeing her again was unbearable. Erik's heart shattered into a million pieces as he came to terms with the finality of her death. He would never see her radiant smile again, nor hear her sweet voice bidding him good morning. It was a crushing blow to realize that he had lost the opportunity to confess his love to her. She had passed away without ever knowing the depth of his feelings for her and he wished she had known not for his sake, but because she deserved to know someone loved her that much.
As Erik cradled her in his arms, he rubbed his face against hers, savoring the warmth and the feel of her skin for the last time.
Suddenly, he heard a sound. A breath. He pulled back in shock, his heart racing with hope. Was it possible that she was still alive? He leaned in, holding his breath, listening intently. There it was again. She was breathing.
Celine was alive!
"Take my life for hers!" Erik loudly cried out in prayer as hope filled him, tears streaming down his face.
With trembling hands, he lifted Celine's limp body and carried her inside the opera house, gently laying her on the cold floor. He placed a tender kiss on her forehead, his heart aching with the fear that he still might lose her forever.
"Fight for me, Celine. Please, my love. Don't leave me. Please stay," He pleaded, his voice trembling with emotion. "I can't live without you. I can't bear the thought of losing you again."
I'll kill myself. He promised.
Erik's heart was racing as he rushed outside to retrieve the bodies of the men. With all his might, one after the other Erik threw the lifeless bodies inside the opera house, as if he were tossing aside a pile of dung, his focus solely on the precious woman he loved.
Although pride had entered his heart for her when he saw and considered the damage she had done to them when he had been gathering their bodies.
Erik locked the opera doors and scooped Celine in his arms, heading for the lair.
He laid her down gently on his bed, and curled up beside her, holding her close and with his face resting against hers. Tears streamed down his face as he pressed his lips to her forehead, whispering words of love and devotion to her before opening his mouth in song:
Title:No One Would Listen
No one would listen
No one but her
Heard as the outcast hears.
Shamed into solitude
Shunned by the multitude
I learned to listen
In my dark, my heart heard music.
I longed to teach the world
Rise up and reach the world
No one would listen
I alone could hear the music
Then at last, a voice in the gloom
Seemed to cry "I hear you;
I hear your fears,
Your torment and your tears."
She saw my loneliness
Shared in my emptiness
No one would listen
No one but her
Heard as the outcast hears
No one would listen
No one but her
Heard as the outcast hears...
.
.
.
Celine slowly opened her eyes and found herself enveloped in a strong embrace. She felt and saw the weight of a man's arm draped over her body, and her mind immediately flashed back to the last thing she remembered - the impact of the officer's fist on her face.
Had he taken her back to his place and violated her? Fear gripped her heart at the thought.
Celine's heart pounded with fear as she struggled to free herself from the strong arms that held her. Her mind raced with thoughts of escape and self-preservation. But then, a voice broke through her panic.
"Celine?!" Erik's voice that cried out was filled with disbelief and joy.
After letting out a small frightened scream Celine in panic turned to look at who held her.
"Celine, it's me! It's Erik! You're safe now," Erik called out to her, his voice soothing and gentle.
Erik's face was filled with worry and relief, his arms still holding her tightly.
Celine's body trembled as she took in his words and saw him, relief washing over her in waves. She had never been so happy to see anyone in her life. She buried her face in his chest, feeling his strong arms wrap around her protectively as he cuddled her.
They held each other for a long time like that, each of them broadly smiling until reason and thinking came back to Celine's mind.
"Erik, why am I in your bed?" She slowly asked, looking up at him and entirely confused.
It was then that she noticed the blood. Half of Erik's lower face was covered and caked in it, his nose having clearly bled heavily. His shirt was stained with blood too. She couldn't believe she hadn't seen it before.
Erik's brows came together.
That's right, she didn't know .
As Erik's brows furrowed, the memories of the events leading up to this moment came back to him.
"Celine, that monster hit you. He hit you with such force, the way a man hits another man when he wants to kill him. I thought you were dead. When I found you were still alive I couldn't leave your side. If you ended up dying I didn't want you to die alone," He said, the pain evident in his voice.
As she took in Erik's words, she touched her face and she realized the severity of her own injuries. Her left eye was swollen shut, and her cheek throbbed with pain at the slightest touch. She winced as she probed the tender flesh with her fingertips, the memory of the attack still fresh in her mind.
"But you're alive, Celine! You're alive!" Erik breathed in awe and pure bliss looking at her.
As she struggled to find the right words to express her gratitude, Celine couldn't help but ask about the attacker.
"What happened to him?" She inquired, the fear and uncertainty evident in her voice.
Darkness entered Erik's eyes, a tangible shift in his demeanor that made Celine's heart skip a beat.
"He's gone for good," he said, his tone final and resolute.
Celine breathed a sigh of relief, understanding the gravity of his words. She knew that he had taken care of the threat, that he had ensured she would never be harmed again and he wouldn't harm another.
"Then you must have heard me cry out for you?" She smiled.
Erik nodded, the same look of bliss and innocence returning to his face.
"Thank you for saving me." She said with all her heart. She raised her hand and lightly touched his nose.
"Erik, we need to take care of your nose," She said, her concern evident.
But Erik just kept looking at her with the same look of awe and wonder.
Why wasn't he taking this seriously?
"It can cause you permanent singing problems if it's broken and left untreated."
Celine's concern for Erik grew as he continued to gaze at her with that same expression of wonder and amazement. Something didn't seem quite right. Was he dazed from being hit?
Without another moment's hesitation, she sat up and quickly grabbed one of his white pillowcases, not seeing anything else she could use to help him.
She gently took Erik by the hand.
"Let's go to the water and wash your face so we can check your nose," She instructed, stepping off of the bed.
Erik listened to her obediently, still wearing that same look on his face. Celine couldn't help but worry about him as she guided him.
Erik allowed her to lead him, and Celine noted the same look on his face of pure happiness and innocence and she was certain he would follow her through the gates of hell if she so wanted. As they reached the water, Celine instructed Erik to sit down and she began to dip some of the the pillowcase into the cool water. Sitting across from Erik, she began to gently and thoroughly wipe away the blood from his face. Erik watched her with rapt attention, his eyes never leaving her.
He studied every feature of her face, noticing the way a line had formed between her brows as she concentrated on cleaning him. He saw the concern in her brown eye, the same eye that he had thought he would never see again. He treasured every moment, knowing that he had been more than gifted with seeing her alive again.
Celine breathed a sigh of relief as she gently finished wiping away the blood from Erik's face, taking care not to cause him any discomfort. She then lightly felt his nose and her heart leapt with joy as she realized it wasn't broken.
"Oh, good. It's not broken!"
Erik's brows furrowed as he gazed at Celine, his heart overflowing with emotion as he saw her happiness for him.
"Fear and worry be damned," He sighed.
Celine's confusion was cut short as Erik took her face in his hands and then kissed her deeply, pouring out all the love he had been holding for her inside. His nose and teeth clumsily bumped into hers for a moment, as he was inexperienced in taking the lead in kissing someone. But soon, he got the hang of it and his kiss became more confident, as he expressed his feelings without reservation.
Erik's heart raced as he held Celine's face in his hands, his lips still pressed against hers. He had never taken such a bold move before, but he couldn't hold back any longer. He loved her, and he had to show her.
But as the moments passed, he couldn't shake off the nagging fear that any second she was going to pull away, horrified by what he had done. He braced himself for the worst, but at the same time, he couldn't let go of the hope that he believed was beyond what he considered reason that she might be willing to feel the same way.
He continued to pour out all of his passion and longing into the kiss, wanting to convey everything that he felt for her.
Celine's body tensed as Erik's lips suddenly met hers. Her mind went blank, unable to comprehend the unexpectedness of the act. But when Erik's teeth slightly knocked into hers, it brought her out of her imprisoned state of mind and shock.
Erik reveled in the sensation of her soft lips against his own, the warmth of her breath mingling with his. He dreaded the second that would inevitably come when she was going to pull away, but he found that it never came.
Instead, to his surprise, he felt her starting to respond with equal fervor.
Erik pulled back at that, gasping as if he had been burned. He looked at her, his eyes wide with wonder, unable to believe what had just happened.
And there, in on her face, he saw a reflection of the strength of love that he felt for her but for him- a love that was deep and true and unbreakable. It was as if every ounce of her being was focused on him, radiating outwards in waves of affection and desire. He couldn't believe it.
Erik's mouth quickly found hers again, their passion reignited with an intensity that took his breath away. They kissed hungrily, lost in a moment of sheer desire that left them both trembling with need. He ran his hand over her hair, marveling at the silky texture that he had longed to touch for so long. It was as if all of his dreams were coming true in that moment, and he never wanted it to end.
The memory of Erik's face, the look of pure bliss and innocene that he had given her earlier without a care for his own well-being, flashed through Celine's mind.
She broke away from the kiss, much to Erik's displeasure who let out a moan of protest. But she couldn't help it - she needed to make sure that he was thinking clearly.
"No. you're not thinking correctly." Celine said quickly. "You were hit, your mind must be-"
Erik's fierce look of determination and passion silenced her protests.
"No, I know exactly what I'm thinking!" He growled, pulling her back into a kiss that left her squealing in surprise against his lips and ridding her of her worries.
As they continued to kiss, Celine's delicate fingers went to Erik's face, tenderly caressing the very disfigurement that he had always been so self-conscious of.
For Erik, the sensation of her touch was overwhelming. He had never felt so vulnerable and yet so accepted all at once. As they parted, both gasping for air, he couldn't resist leaning his forehead against hers, his eyes closed in blissful contentment.
And then, without warning, he began to sing. His voice was rich and full of emotion, filling the room.
"My love, my heart, my everything,
I've longed for you, my sweetest dream,
In every moment, every thought,
You're the one I've always sought."
Celine's mouth fell open as she recognized the tune and remembered the deep affection in Erik's eyes when he had first sung those lyrics to her. She couldn't believe it - this was their duet song, and now she understood every word was a love letter to her.
"Celine, I love you," Erik confessed sweetly, his voice soft and gentle.