I wasn't sure when I woke, but when I did, I found myself in a room that I did not recognize, and I was in a bed that I had never seen before. This was not Erik's lair, for the room was too neat and organized to be his own. There was fancy wallpaper plastered on the walls, and a mahogany door that was closed. The first thing I felt was a searing pain coming from my legs and I removed the warm blankets to find my limbs wrapped in white gauze like a mummy. A knock occurred on the door, followed by a man entering, one that I had never seen before. He was a dark-skinned man with black hair and he was dressed in a fancy red robe.
"Glad to see that you are up, Madame Christine." he said. "I was starting to get worried."
"Who are you?" I questioned. "Where am I?"
"You do not recognize me?" he chuckled. "Then again, why would you? I was merely a face within the background. Erik, of course, would never dare to acknowledge my existence."
"Erik!" I cried. "Where is he? Is he all right?"
"Calm down, child," he said. "Erik is alive."
"Can I see him?"
The man shook his head. "I believe that it would be better for Erik to sleep through his pain. He arrived here in rough shape."
"Monsieur, what happened?"
"Erik arrived here with you in his arms a few nights ago. He stated something about the opera house burning down and that he found you in the chapel."
I touched my bandaged legs and winced at the pain I felt.
"I was trying to save Erik." I said. "I was worried."
"You were foolish," he replied. "Apparently, a beam fell from the ceiling and Erik jumped over your body to protect you. His back is severely injured, among other things."
There was a pause before he continued.
"And I saw the bullet wounds. Erik said that you saved his life."
I shrugged. "I wouldn't call it that. Raoul..."
I immediately stopped, for everything came rushing back to me. I had gone to the masquerade ball with Raoul, only to wake at his estate hours later and find the opera house on the fire.
"Does he know that I'm here?"
"No, Christine. But if you wish, I could..."
"No!" I cried. "I don't wish to be found at this moment."
"As you wish."
"And you are?"
The man smiled. "You can call me Daroga. Don't worry, Christine, you will be safe here in my home. You should get your rest."
When the Daroga left me, I tried to sleep, but found that I couldn't stop thinking of Erik. Wanting to know how he was doing, I eventually got up and held onto the walls as I limped towards the door and pulled it open, revealing a candlelit hallway lined with many doors. I didn't know which one would lead me to Erik, but before I could choose, I heard a door creak open, finding a small boy peeking out from behind it. The boy looked just like the Daroga, with dark skin and short black hair. I smiled and he smiled back, seeming shy as he did so.
"I'm looking for a friend." I whispered. "Can you help me?"
The boy nodded, and pointed to a black door that had skulls etched into the wood.
"Is the man with the mask in there?" I asked.
The boy nodded, and I approached him. "I'm Christine."
"Reza." he whispered.
"Nice to meet you, Reza." I said. "Thank you for helping me."
I approached the door and was about to open it, when I heard the child's voice once more.
"He's not wearing his mask."
This shocked me, for I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Had this child seen Erik's face? I could only turn and thank the boy once more before entering the room and closing the door behind me. The first thing I was met with was endless candlelight, illuminating dark purple wallpaper. There was a desk, and a fourposter bed, even a lavish wardrobe closet. Erik was on the bed, his body propped up by a mountain of pillows and his face was exposed for me to see. His eyes were closed, but he was not in a peaceful sleep, for he was wincing with every breath that he took. I held onto his bedframe as I moved towards him, placing my hand over his own.
"You should be in bed." came a soft, painful whisper.
I gasped and finally, Erik's eyes opened just enough to see me.
"I needed to make sure that you were all right." I replied. "I was worried about you."
"You were so worried about me that you risked your life like a fool to come search for me as the opera house burned to the ground."
"I wanted to warn you." I assured.
"As if you would have mourned my death, Christine."
My heart sank. "What?"
"I am hideous, Christine, and I may not have a nose, but I can still smell smoke. I was just changing out of my attire from the masquerade, when I smelled the wretched stench and hurried upstairs to find the flames tearing through the beloved building. Everyone was already gone, but what I didn't expect was to find you passed out in the chapel. The ceiling was going to fall on you."
"But you jumped in the way to protect me."
Erik stared at me with a painful expression, nodding as he did so.
"What am I supposed to say, Christine? That you would have done the same for me?"
What could I say to him? Would I have done the same?
"My thoughts, exactly."
My eyes gazed at the bedside table where there was a newspaper from the day after the fire.
"Ah, yes," Erik's sarcastic voice groaned. "An article filled with nothing but lies. Apparently, even though I am supposed to be dead, I may be the culprit."
My mind was racing. "Where you?"
Erik rolled his eyes. "Oh, come now, Christine. I may hate the world and I may loath the fools who run the opera house, but I would never set a place I loved with all my heart ablaze."
My knees were quaking, and Erik quickly reached over for the chair at his bedside, motioning me to sit.
"Sit, girl." he ordered. "You shouldn't even be out of bed."
I did as I was told and felt better once I was off my feet.
"So, what now?" I questioned.
Erik reached over for the newspaper and tossed it down in front of me.
"Well, there were no causalities, but you are still missing. I guess you should go be found, if that is what you wish. Return to your beloved Viscount and walk off into the everlasting sunset with him."
I looked down at my feet and hugged my knees into my chest.
"What if I don't wish to be found?"
"And why not, Christine? There are plenty of people that love and will miss you dearly."
"Eventually, they will move on."
There was a pause, and then Erik reached over for my hand, placing his cold fingers over my own in a friendly gesture.
"Did something happen?"
The events after the ball replayed in my head, everything from the horrible dances with Raoul to the unsatisfying consummation of our relationship.
"Christine?"
Erik was becoming impatient with my silence, for I could sense it in his voice.
"It's nothing." I replied.
Erik did not pressure me into speaking about it again that evening. I don't know how he would have reacted if I told him what Raoul and I had shared. It would probably break his heart, and I wasn't sure what he would have done.
"This room suits you." I said, changing the subject.
"The Daroga made this room especially for me. I have stayed here from time to time over the years."
"So, he is your friend?"
"I wouldn't say that, but in a strange way, I guess he is."
On the other side of the room was an old grandfather clock, and it began to chime in the early hour of three am.
"Perhaps we should both try to get some rest?"
I nodded and stood to my feet, heading towards the door to go back to my room.
"Be careful, Christine," Erik warned. "Don't fall."
"Good night, Erik."
I did manage to make it back to my room and fall asleep, only waking when I heard the sound of Erik moaning in pain. Curious, I stood and walked back out into the hall, finding the door to his room slightly ajar and inside, the Daroga was pressing his hand against Erik's back. I stood there in the hall, watching as his fingers pressed onto Erik's spine as he groaned in pain.
"Right there?" he questioned. "Or higher?"
"Lower, you fool!" Erik cried. "I said my middle and lower back."
"I could summon the doctor." the Daroga offered. "He could possibly help you."
"No doctors." Erik growled. "You know how I feel about involving others."
"Morphine, perhaps?" he questioned. "For the pain?"
"Perhaps." Erik replied.
I tried to step away from the door, when my foot caused the floor to creak, and for Erik's mismatched orbs to meet with my own.
"I think I can manage, Daroga." Erik said, reaching for his robe, and covering his bare torso with it.
"If you need anything, Erik, I shall be downstairs."
It was then, that the Daroga pulled open the door to find me standing there.
"Ah, Christine, I see that you are up and about this morning. If you need anything, please let me know."
I nodded, only to hear Erik's voice mocking me from inside his room.
"Are you finished spying, Christine?"
I walked in, spotting Erik's robe still hanging open, with his chest exposed for me to see. He was sitting on the end of his bed, hunched over and seeming to be in quite a bit of pain. He motioned towards his desk with a trembling hand, where there was a tray with a tea kettle and pastries placed on it.
"Help yourself to some breakfast. I don't think I could possibly manage to eat anything this morning."
I was just reaching out to take one of the sweets that were sitting on a plate, when I heard a horrible gasping sound. I quickly turned and realized that Erik was now on his side, gasping for air.
"Erik?"
I ran to his side, the sound only becoming worse as the moments passed.
"Daroga!" I dashed to the door and pulled it open, shouting for Erik's friend.
"Daroga, help!"
Faster than lightning, I heard footsteps rushing up the stairs, the Daroga appearing a few seconds later.
"What's wrong?" he questioned.
"It's Erik!" I cried. "He's not well!"
We both hurried into the room and Daroga leaned over Erik to check on him. He encouraged Erik not to panic and to just concentrate on breathing until he returned.
"Keep him calm, Christine." he said as he rushed back towards the hall. "I'll be back with a doctor."
"Wait!"
I tried to stop him, but I was left alone with a man who was struggling for every breath that he took. I wasn't sure how to help Erik, so I just stood there at the side of his bed, rubbing his shoulder and encouraging him to stay calm. The sound of his gasps broke my heart, for they sounded painful and horrifying. When Daroga returned with a doctor, I was pushed out of the room, and left to stand in the hall as my angel of music possibly lay dying on his bed.
"Is Monsieur E going to be all right?"
I was pulled from my trauma by the sound of Reza's soft voice. I spun around and found him peeking out of his room once more.
"I don't know." I replied.
The door swung completely open, and the child motioned me to come inside.
"You are familiar with Erik?" I questioned.
Reza nodded and hurried to a shelf that was lined with a collection of beautiful toys. He picked up a music box that had a mirror on the lid and brought it over to me.
"Monsieur E made this for me."
The child handed me the small box and I looked into the mirror, only to see a young Persian woman staring back at me in a three-dimensional form. It was as if a real person had been shrunk and placed into the mirror.
"That was my mother," Reza said. "She passed away not long after I was born."
I looked up at the boy. "I'm sorry, Reza."
"I wanted to know her, and I was sad that I didn't get the chance. One day last year, Monsieur E gave me this. He said it was a magic box that would show me my mother whenever I wanted to see her."
I opened the box, and a song began to play, one that made me smile.
"I put all of my favorite things in here." he said. "Things that I would have wanted my mother to see."
Never in my wildest dreams had I ever thought that Erik would have been so good with children.
"So, he is kind to you?"
Reza nodded. "The best. He shows me magic tricks and once when I wasn't feeling well, he sang to me. He really does have the best singing voice."
Before I could say another word, Daroga came into the room.
"Christine, you can see Erik if you wish."
I stood, only to have Reza follow.
"Just Christine, son."
"But Baba."
Reza tried to intervene, but Daroga wouldn't listen to him.
"I need help with the chores downstairs."
When Reza was gone, Daroga walked me back into Erik's room. I gasped as soon as I spotted him, for he was lying in his bed with a tube lodged into his chest that was draining fluid into a basin that had been placed on the floor.
"Daroga, what..."
I tried to speak, but the man interrupted.
"The bullet wounds that you tried to mend caused fluid to seep into his lung. Erik was slowly suffocating on his own blood."
Tears rushed to my eyes, for Erik seemed as though he was in a tremendous amount of pain.
"The doctor said that he needs to keep that in him until all the fluid has stopped."
I sat with Erik the rest of the day, watching him struggle for every breath as fluid continue to drip into the basin. That evening, a horrible rainstorm swept through the town, the freezing rain that was tapping against the window immediately calmed my nerves. The loud sound of the rain drained out Erik's wheezing, and eventually lulled me to sleep. I awoke to the smell of breakfast tea and spotted a kettle sitting on Erik's desk. I wasn't sure how long I had been asleep in the chair that was beside Erik's bed, but when I dared to look at the man, I noticed that his chest was bandaged in a thick layer of gauze, and the tube was no longer in his chest. Erik's breathing was also much softer, which told me that whatever the doctor had done had worked. I stood from my seat and was just pouring myself a cup of tea, when I heard Erik's painful voice saying my name.
"Christine?"
I turned and watched as he attempted to sit up but winced in pain as he did so.
"Oh, Erik, don't move," I said, rushing to his side with a cup of tea for him. "You must be so thirsty."
Erik reached up for the strap of his mask, his boney fingers trembling as he did so. I immediately stopped him and gently unbuckled the strap, removing his mask as gently as I could.
"There you are," I said, placing the garment on the bedside table. "Drink, you will feel better."
Erik's face looked so sore and raw from wearing his mask, and I did not hesitate a single moment in fetching a damp cloth to press against his sore flesh.
"You don't have to do this." he sternly remarked. "If I cannot bear to look at it, you shouldn't have to either."
Erik winced when the warm cloth was pressed against his sore cheek. I took away his empty teacup and sat down in the chair that was beside his bed once more.
"You frightened me yesterday." I said. "I was worried."
Erik tried to laugh, but it was caught off by a sickly cough.
"Apparently my lungs are incapable of humor at the moment."
Erik rested his head against his pillow and closed his eyes.
"Reza said you are very kind." I said, changing the subject.
"I am but a mere monster, Christine, one who has not one ounce of kindness to give."
"I don't believe you." I said. "What about the dinner you cooked for me at Christmas?"
Erik rubbed his aching temple and moaned.
"Must you bring up painful memories?"
"How did you make the music box for Reza?" I asked.
"It tis but an illusion, Christine; a magic trick that I learned back in Persia. I took pity on the boy for missing his mother, for I never had a father. Kindness had nothing to do with it. The same goes for Christmas dinner. I merely prepared such an evening in hopes that you would have accepted my proposal. Such a fool I was to believe that someone as beautiful as you would have bound yourself to a hideous monster."Silence filled the room, for I did not know what to say."Speechless as always, I see." Erik continued. "I guess we can forgo this conversation and change it to another. Your legs, Christine, how are they?"
I looked down at my bandaged limbs and shrugged. "All right, I suppose."
Erik motioned to the bedside table where a fresh roll of gauze lay.
"You should change your bandages." he said. "You wouldn't want to get an infection, now, would you?"
Knowing Erik was right, I took a seat at the end of his bed and began to pull off the old gauze as he watched me with eyes that never left my legs. This was the first time I was actually seeing the damage, and when the last bandage was off, I gasped, for my flesh was so red and raw.
"Oh, Christine, you shouldn't have come back to the opera house." Erik painfully stated. "If you could take that pain and give it to me, I would accept it in an instant. My poor angel, what agony you must be in."
"Do you think they will scar?" I asked.
"They may take a while to heal, but no, Christine, I don't think they will leave scars."
"How can you be sure?" I questioned.
Erik began to shift in the bed, forcing himself into a better sitting position. He winced with every move he made, but when he was finally up, I watched as he peeled open the side of his robe to reveal a patch of marred flesh on the right side of his hip.
"I know, Christine." he replied. "I was able to get you out of the burning opera house before the flames were able to touch your legs. I know what it feels like to have flames touch your skin, and it is not a pleasant feeling."
"What happened?" I asked.
"Not everyone is kind in this world, Christine. I was once someone's property and that was his way of making sure I knew it. He treated me as nothing more than cattle."
I leaned over him to have a better look at the brand, noticing how painful it still seemed. Without asking for permission, I reached out and placed my hand over it, taking in the odd feeling of every curve and scar that lay beneath my palm. There were a few moments of silence, and then a muffled sob emerged from his throat, one that caused me to immediately back away from him.
"Oh, Christine, forgive me."
Erik pulled his robe closed and turned away, obviously ashamed over his appearance.
"Leave me to rest, Christine."
I took that as an order and left Erik's room to return to my own, not knowing that I had made him feel as though he had to hide himself from me.
Poor Erik, poor Christine! Happy New Year, Everyone! I'm back! Thanks again for your reviews. Happy Reading!
