A departure from the 2004 movie, stage and book(s)
Please let me know what you think. It's a quick chapter, but lots going on.
Ch 62
I would have known Erik's face anywhere. He was unique in appearance, given the placement of the scars, and the moment I knew for certain it was my brother, my heart shattered with grief.
"Run!" Someone to my left shrieked, causing the hairs on my arm to stand on end.
"Lord save us, it's a monster!"
It's the Phantom! The Phantom of the Opera!"
My gaze darted around, panic thrumming through me as I watched the scene unfold like a living nightmare. With Erik's deep hood and mask removed, people seated in the first few rows shrieked in horror, turning away from him while continuing to scream that there was a monster on the stage.
Briefly Erik tore his gaze away from Christine and seemed to realize he was standing on the stage of one of Paris' largest opera houses, before a full house of terrified onlookers gaping at him. He lifted his hand, briefly covering the scars, his eyes wide with horror as if he could not believe what had transpired.
He looked directly at me–or at least the darkened space where I stood amongst hundreds of people beginning to flee. The eyes surveying the audience didn't belong to my brother–at least not to the version of Erik I had known long ago. They were not soft and curious, but hardened and feral, undoubtedly the result of decades of hardships that had led to the culmination of this terrible moment where he was the villain.
Another gunshot rang out and I collapsed back into my seat, covering my head with my hands as if that could stop a bullet. I started to stand again, but another shot pierced the backdrop, both striking in two different places on either side of where Erik stood. The bullets left behind gaping, ragged holes larger than my fist. Screaming people dropped to their hands and knees, crawling on all fours toward the exits while still more people trampled over them as panic ensued. A man attempted to climb over the balcony and toppled onto the seats below, creating further chaos as he landed on top of people fighting to leave.
"Hold your fire!" Raoul shouted. "For God's sake, hold your fire!"
Beside Raoul, Nadir Khan stood with his arms extended, blocking a gendarme with a pistol aimed at my brother.
"Don't!" I shouted despite being halfway across the theater, my heart in my throat. "For God's sake, please don't shoot him!"
"Lower your weapon at once, you damnable fool, before you shoot me in the chest!" Nadir commanded. He swiftly disarmed the officer and turned back toward the stage. "Erik! Enough of this!" he bellowed, his voice remarkably loud compared to the rest of the noise.
Erik turned his full attention toward Nadir, and the two men stared at one another for a long moment, neither one of them moving. Erik blinked at him, appearing quite stunned to see Nadir in attendance.
Because my brother is the criminal from Persia, I realized, my heart plummeting with concern. My missing little brother was the criminal Nadir had been searching for since he'd arrived in Paris. The thought was more than I could comprehend.
I inched my way toward the stage, fighting my way through the crowd of people both on their feet and crawling past on hands and knees, desperate to escape the theater after the gunshots rang through the auditorium. Despite the wall of men and women impeding my progress, I hoped my brother would remain where he stood until I was in front of the orchestra pit. Perhaps Nadir Khan would convince him to meet him in the wings and whatever my brother intended to do would remain nothing more than a thought.
"Let me go!" Christine pleaded, clawing at Erik's arm. "Release me at once, you wretched monster!"
Christine's voice immediately garnered Erik's full attention, and he gaped in horror at the young soprano attempting to free herself from him. While she tugged at his sleeve, he pulled her toward him, the two of them exchanging words through clenched teeth.
Erik managed to drag her back from where they stood at the edge of the stage. He reached through one of the bullet holes and ripped the backdrop clear open in one violent tug, then grabbed a rope and wrestled the knot free, sending two sandbags crashing down onto the stage within feet of where they both stood.
Members of the orchestra fled in multiple directions as a third bag was released, striking the edge of the stage where it fell into the orchestra pit and hit the piano, smashing clear through the instrument.
"Erik!" I shouted, elbowing my way forward. "Erik, enough before you kill someone!"
"Seize him!" Raoul ordered, frantically gesturing in all directions. "Seize him at once before he kills Christine!"
Erik twisted, glaring at Raoul as he continued to release several more sandbags. Several pieces of scenery held up above the stage fell one after the other, wooden pieces splintering into the audience, creating further chaos.
From both sides of the stage, a dozen gendarmes started to surround Erik, every single one of them with either a pistol drawn or club in hand. They stalked toward him, five on one side, seven on the other.
"Hands up!" one of the gendarmes ordered.
"He is unarmed," I heard Nadir bellow. "Take him alive, gentlemen."
"Don't hurt him," I pleaded, tripping over a woman laid out on the ground, her eyes pinched shut and bloodied hands shielding her head from being trampled.
"Madame?" I questioned. "Madame, you must be on your feet."
Her eyes popped open, a look of pure terror on her face as I grabbed her by the wrists and pulled her to her feet. Her knees threatened to give way, but I hauled her further onto her feet, giving her a violent shake, hoping she could regain her wits at last.
"Stay on your feet and get out," I ordered.
She nodded, her lips quivering. "It's a monster, Monsieur. I saw it with my own eyes, the Phantom of the Opera is the devil himself. Get out while you can."
The woman ran past me, screaming along with the others being knocked to the ground and fighting their way up again. I was still a good fourteen rows back, which seemed impossibly far from the stage still.
"Professor Kimmer!" I heard my students shout from the balcony.
I tore my gaze from the stage and saw the three of them jumping up and down, arms waving.
"Get out!" I yelled. "Get out at once."
They yelled again, but I couldn't discern their words. Uncertain if they could hear me, I gestured toward the exits until the three of them ran together from the box and disappeared from my sight.
Another sandbag fell, and the trap door at the center of the stage opened with a loud crack that I thought at first was another bullet.
The gendarmes stalked nearer, trapping Erik with Christine still at his side. I froze where I stood, paralyzed by my fear of watching someone accidentally discharging their weapon and wounding or killing my brother before my eyes.
A woman appeared stage right, darting toward where Erik stood, only to be held back by one of the officers.
"Let me speak to him," she pleaded, her voice trembling with emotion. "For God's sake, let me speak to him."
"Madame Giry, remain calm," Nadir said as he appeared on the opposite side of the stage.
Erik looked from Madame Giry to Nadir and back again, looking more and more like a rat cornered. I wanted everyone to step away from my brother, allowing him space and me the opportunity to approach him. He would listen to me, I was certain. Once he knew that I was there, that I wished to help him–to sooth his troubled mind–he would go willingly with me and the situation would be over.
Madame Giry struggled to walk past the gendarmes, but they would not allow her any closer. As she swatted both men away, one of their pistols discharged in the air, striking the chandelier. Shards of glass burst like fireworks onto the crowd below in a shower of dust and sharp pieces.
Madame Giry was shoved to the ground. Erik reached into the gaping hole through the backdrop and the rope groaned.
"Get off the stage!" Nadir ordered.
I looked from Erik, to Nadir and to the side of the stage where Madame Giry used her cane to climb to her feet and limped away.
More shards of glass rained down, drawing my attention to the chandelier. There were several pops in succession, followed by the chandelier coming dislodged from the ceiling on one side. Large pieces of plaster tumbled first, followed by heavy bolts and the snap of a chain that whipped through the air and struck the chandelier as it swung and hit the ceiling.
Glass, plaster, and metal tiles fell like a torrential storm within the theater, and I felt bits of debris strike me in the head and in the face. Eyes shielded, I gazed up, surprised to see the chandelier still attached to the ceiling. Back and forth the apparatus swung, hitting the ceiling several times before it slowed and came to a stop. I held my breath, willing the light fixture to remain in place.
It seemed to be stable-until another rope snapped and the chandelier dropped several feet from the ceiling, spinning around in a circle as two chains held it in place. More bolts came loose, the gas pipes up above hissed, and the ceiling caught fire with a burst of flames that shot out in all directions. Bit by bit, the whole contraption went up in flames before disconnecting from the ceiling on one side, then the other. The final chain held it briefly, but the links snapped one by one and the glass pieces exploded as it fell.
I gasped, bracing myself as the chandelier crashed straight down, landing in the first few rows where it bounced and toppled into the orchestra pit. Glass shattered, sparks and dust flying in all directions, creating a cloud of debris and smoke that swiftly filled the stage, followed by pieces of the ceiling engulfed in flames.
The first few rows of seats, which had been vacated, caught fire swiftly, flames rising like a barrier between the stage and where the audience would have been seated.
I tore my gaze from the fire and looked for Erik. Through the smoke and carnage, I saw him grab Christine around the waist, hoist her over his shoulder, and tumble into the open trap door, which closed behind him.
I stood motionless, unable to believe my eyes. Flames licked over the surface of the stage, rolling toward the backdrop, which caught fire with ease and was swallowed up with alarming speed. The gendarmes began furiously blowing their whistles, bells in the distance rang for the fire department, and the stage was vacated at once with wounded officers dragged to safety.
"No," I whispered as I continued to advance. "No, it cannot end like this."
oOo
With the orchestra pit ablaze, I made my way toward the left of the stage and climbed up the side, my left arm screaming in agony as I placed pressure onto the heel of my hand. Teeth gritted, I covered my mouth and shielded my nose and eyes with my sleeve as I trudged toward the wings.
"Where is he?" Raoul demanded.
I could hear his voice, but couldn't see where he was located. Close, I knew, as he sounded only feet away, but there was a heap of fallen scenery and several curtains separating us.
"I don't know," a woman's trembling voice answered.
"Madame Giry," Raoul warned. "You know where he resides. Tell me the truth."
"Please, Monsieur, I don't know any more than you do."
"Enough," Raoul snapped. "You cannot protect him any longer. Christine is in danger and you know it. Would you allow the girl you took in as your daughter to fall prey to this madman?"
My breath hitched and I found myself horrified by Raoul's claim. Erik would not harm Christine. I was absolutely positive that despite what had happened, my brother was not capable of hurting a woman, least of all one he was apparently smitten with in such fashion that he had cast her as the lead in his production.
"The house by the lake," Madame Giry said.
I furrowed my brow. As far as I was aware the nearest lakes to Paris had no residential housing, but I was not overly familiar with the layouts.
"Be more specific," Raoul demanded.
"I am familiar with the house on the lake," Nadir said.
"Where is it?" Raoul impatiently asked.
"It is underground," Nadir answered. "Deep below the opera house, down a winding maze of stairs and corridors fraught with traps meant to keep strangers away."
"You know this? How?" Madame Giry asked.
"I found it by accident after locating the secret mirrors," Nadir answered. "An old trick from Persia, one that Erik brought back with him from the palace."
"Erik?" Raoul said. "The hideous creature has a name?"
I forced myself to remain calm and out of view despite the desire to strike Raoul across the face for calling my brother a hideous creature.
"He has many names, isn't that right, Madame Giry? The Devil's Child is how you first knew him, yes? When you first learned of his existence long ago?"
"We do not speak of those days nor his time in Persia," she replied. "In fact, we have not spoken in quite some time, I'm afraid."
"But you did know him, isn't that right?" Raoul pressed.
"Yes," she answered. "Yes, I knew him. I wanted to protect him."
"You should have been protecting Christine from him," Raoul snapped.
"You needn't reprimand Madame Giry," Nadir said. "She is not responsible for Erik's choices."
Raoul began coughing as the smoke billowed into the wings. "We must go. Madame Giry, Monsieur Khan, show me the way."
When no one spoke, Raoul asked again, this time far louder and more insistent.
"Through that doorway," Madame Giry said at last. "Keep your hand at the level of your eyes, vicomte, less you want to be found tangled in a magical lasso."
"Through that doorway and then what?" Raoul questioned.
"Down the hall and toward the kitchen," Madame Giry continued. "The first door to your right is the closest stairway leading to the cellar. Go down five flights of stairs. There you will see the lake. You will need to cross it."
"Swim, you mean?"
"No," Nadir said. "There are boats. Three of them, all different sizes."
"How will I know where to go?"
"There is only one way to travel," Madame Giry answered. "It follows a footpath, but the path is fraught with danger. Traps of all sorts, and explosives as well."
"Explosives?" Raoul exclaimed. "This madman has explosives at his disposal?"
I assumed Madame Giry and Nadir Khan nodded. My heart ached, unable to comprehend what Erik had experienced in his life that led him to hiding away and baring paths with explosives and traps.
More smoke billowed through the air, stinging my eyes and making it nearly impossible to breathe. I covered my mouth and nose with my handkerchief and then my sleeve as I heard several doors open and close. There were voices screaming from behind the doors, accompanied by a burst of cold, damp air.
It sounded as though Raoul, Madame Giry, and Nadir Khan parted ways, but I wasn't certain where the three of them had gone. Slowly I felt my way through the darkness, feet shuffling over the ground, hands extended until I found a door handle and pulled it open. People raced by, as did an unbridled horse, and I realized that the door led to the outside.
Uncovering my mouth, I took a deep breath of fresh air and shut the door, then proceeded to feel my way toward another exit, searching for the doorway Madame Giry had mentioned. Since I hadn't been able to see where she gestured, I guessed my way through the wings, attempting to remember the layout of the theater from the times I had accompanied my class to paint the backdrops that were now engulfed in flames.
The smoke became thicker and I knew I was running out of time before I was in danger of succumbing to the flames and fumes. Several pops echoed from the theater itself, followed by more of the ceiling falling onto the seats.
This is where I will die, I thought to myself, searching for my brother until the very bitter end.
Ahead of me I saw a figure feeling his way through the backstage area and I called out, desperate to find the doorway.
"You! Wait, please!" I shouted.
As I neared, I realized it was Nadir, who startled at the sight of me.
"You?" Nadir frowned at me. "You shouldn't be here."
"I have to be here. I have to find him."
Nadir shook his head. "It isn't safe for you."
"I don't care if it's unsafe. That is my brother and I must find him before–before someone kills him."
Nadir sighed. "Erik is not easily killed," he said. "But he is swift to turn his anger into action."
"He will listen to me," I assured him. "Show me where to go and I will take him from here."
"We are not speaking of the same man, Monsieur Kimmer. The Erik you know was reasonable and of sound mind. The Erik I know was teetering between soundness and madness when we were first acquainted and was…" He paused and shook his head. "It is a shame what he became."
My heart could not take an ounce more of heaviness. "I need to find him," I said firmly. "Please, Monsieur Khan, I can help him. I can help Erik like no one else can. Let me do this for him."
"He will be hanged," Nadir said. "There is no helping him."
"Then I shall hang beside him," I said.
Nadir shifted his weight. "Through that door," he said, gesturing toward the rear of the building. "The door to the cellars is marked with a sign that says 'no admittance'."
"That's where I will find the boat?"
Nadir eyed me. "Yes, down the five flights of stairs, as I assume you have already overheard."
He turned away, pushing open another door that led to the outside. He produced a set of keys and clutched them in his right hand. "Be very careful, Monsieur Kimmer. Your brother is not who you think he is."
"That is not true," I assured him. "Deep down inside, Erik is still Erik."
"God be with you, Monsieur Kimmer. You will certainly need someone on your side."
Nadir disappeared through the door and I inhaled a breath of cool air entering the building before I trudged forward, finding my way toward the door he had shown me. I shoved it open, not realizing that it led into a stairwell, and missed the first step. If not for the metal railing, I undoubtedly would have tumbled down into the darkness.
It took several moments for my eyes to adjust, but thankfully with the door closed, the air was not yet filled with smoke. There was a faint light ahead that grew brighter as I neared it. Squinting, I searched for another doorway, finding several halls leading in multiple directions.
Nadir had not mentioned venturing off in one direction or another, so I made my way straight ahead, opening one door and then another, peering into storage rooms and other stairways leading up and down.
At last I came to the end of the hall and paused, finding no doors labeled with anything at all. I backtracked, my heart racing as I knew with each passing second, Raoul was further ahead of me. If given the opportunity, I was certain Raoul would kill Erik, and if the vicomte harmed my brother…?
I was not a killer, I reminded myself. I was someone who had been quite violent in the past, but for all of the altercations I found myself in over the years, I had never gotten into a situation where life hung in the balance. Quite easily I could have beaten Bjorn to death when I returned to Conforeit in search of Erik, but I had found restraint and left Bjorn begging for my mercy.
"Please," I begged in the dark. "Please, come to your senses, Erik."
The meager light down the hall began to flicker and I cursed under my breath, knowing damn well I would never be able to navigate the labyrinth in the dark.
Desperation gripped me and I thrust open the nearest door, finding it led back to the stage as smoke wafted toward me. I slammed it shut, the light flickered again, and then went out briefly.
I inhaled sharply and waited for the light to come on again, which it did for a second before it went out again and didn't turn back on.
Again I cursed, trapped in the dark, my eyes wide and insides filled with panic. I felt along the cool, damp wall, imagining Erik trapped in the cellar of the home where we had both been born.
I imagined my little brother at the age of three and a half, terrified of the dark, his eyes blackened by our father, his small frame bruised by a heavy hand and scalp missing clumps of hair. I imagined him being shoved down the cellar stairs, crawling on his hands and knees beneath the refuse to escape the punishment he endured.
I imagined him choking back a sob, terrified to move or speak, aware that the slightest mistake would lead to being struck again.
He would have been frightened half to death alone in the darkness, without the comfort of my presence, without my arms around him to offer protection.
I could imagine his little voice, his lips like velvet against my ear, pleading for me to pick him up, to keep him safe, to dry his tears.
I am here, I wanted to tell him. Thirty years later than I would want, Erik, but I am here. I just need to find the correct door and then I will carry you out if need be, just as I would have done when we were children.
My hand found another door handle and I pulled it open, finding a set of stairs that led downward and further into the dark. I felt my way along the wall, attempting to remind myself of which direction I had come from and where I wanted to head. The floor beneath my feet sloped downward at first, then gently rose until I bumped into a solid brick wall that scraped my palms.
"Damn it," I muttered under my breath, switching directions as I felt my way back the way I had walked, up the incline, then back down where it continued to descend for what felt like several minutes.
Again I reached another wall, but this one was smooth and I realized it was a doorway. I searched for the handle and turned it, but it wouldn't budge as it was apparently locked. Aggravated, I gave the handle a tug, and to my surprise, it swung toward me and I hurried through, then turned and walked up three steps to another door, which I threw open and stepped through.
I gasped, realizing I was in the alley behind the opera house when the door slammed shut behind me. For a long moment I stared at the wooden fence with its missing slats and the puddles of water in the dirt, shocked that I was somehow outside of the opera house.
Turning, I reached for the handle and pushed twice, but the door was locked.
No admittance.
One harsh breath and the air was forced from my lungs as I realized my hasty mistake.
Erik was somewhere inside. I was in the alley-with no possible way of getting back into the building.
Realization struck me like a fist to the side of the head. I felt dizzy and sick to my stomach, my eyesight blurred and ears ringing with the distant screams of people on the street and the fire alarms echoing in the night. Plumes of smoke filled the skies overhead, the smell of the burning opera house penetrating my nostrils.
"Oh no," I said under my breath as I sank to the ground and covered my face with both hands, devastated by my folly. "No. No, not like this. God, help me. Somebody, please help me get to Erik."