Christine’s POV:
I walked down the dark streets and pulled my shawl closer to my body. Life had been something a kin to hell since Erik had released me about three days ago. Raoul never abused me. No, he was always kind. But it was his kindness which made it hell.
Never in the past three days had I been allowed to do something on my own. Raoul always did it for me. Now, he never dressed me or bathed me but had a maid help me. I tried to tell him I didn’t want help and didn’t need it.
But, he seemed to think that after the trouble and pain Erik had put he through I was completely incapable of doing anything. I was getting very tired of being treated like a child. Plus, he insisted that we marry soon.
I didn’t want to marry so soon. I wasn’t even eighteen. But, he insisted. He said that our marriage would help me become stable again. He seemed to think I was losing my mind because I had taken to staring out into the distance.
I wasn’t insane. No, I was simply thinking. Thinking about Erik. It had been during those times when I had realized many things about Erik. Things that softened my memory of him. Things that made me almost want to see him again.
That was why I was walking down the streets at that late hour. Raoul was asleep and I was looking for the Persian. He was a man that all the ballet rats feared but he knew where Erik was and might be able to give some advice to me.
I looked up at the flat where he lived and knocked lightly on the door. I had no idea if I was doing right but I wanted to see Erik again. I didn’t know why. I was so confused. So confused. When I had been under Erik’s spell everything had been hazy and I hated it. Raoul had been a way to fight that spell. I never realized what Erik would do.
I shivered a little and it started to rain as the Persian’s servant opened the door. Smiling faintly at him, I said,
“Monsieur, I need to speak with the Persian.” He shook his head and let me through the door.
“I am sorry, Mademoiselle, but he is unable to see you now. He is working right now. But, do step into the kitchen and have a glass of tea. You must be freezing.” He took my arm gently and led me to the kitchen in the back of the house.
A moment later I was sitting in front of the fire with a cup of tea. The servant said,
“My name is Darius and you are…?” I smiled and sipped on my tea.
“Christine.” He beamed and took a seat opposite me.
“A very pretty name, Mademoiselle. Is your business with the Daroga urgent?” I nodded rapidly. It was very urgent. Erik was an impulsive man and I had no idea if he was still alive even. Darius frowned and was about to speak when the doorbell rang again.
He sighed and stood up,
“Forgive me, Mademoiselle, I must see who it is. I shall return soon.” I nodded and he disappeared. It wasn’t long before the sound of voices drifted through the house. Whoever was at the door and Darius were arguing.
The voice sounded familiar but I couldn’t hear enough to place it. The arguing stopped after a little bit and Darius returned five minutes later, wiping sweat from his brow.
“My, my, that man was most persistent.” He sat down and refilled my tea cup and poured himself a glass of some liquor. I sipped on my tea and said,
“Darius, who was he?” The man shrugged and to a drink.
“Haven’t the slightest notion. He wouldn’t show his face and refused to be denied access to the Daroga.” He sighed and said,
“Is there anything I can do for you to make your more comfortable?” I shook my head and sipped on my tea. It couldn’t be! It just couldn’t be! Erik wouldn’t come out of the Opera House cellars, would he? But, then I didn’t know him too well. Maybe he would.
My hands shook and I set the cup down. Now that I was so close to my object I couldn’t think. After all, he was dangerous. My stomach knotted and I knew what I had to do. An idea formed in my mind. Standing up, I said,
“Darius, do you have a bathroom I might be able to use?” He smiled and said,
“Yes, Mademoiselle, right this way.” He led me up the stairs and showed me the room. I had needed a way to get up there and I had. After Darius smiled and walked away and I stepped into bathroom.
I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes. For once I was sure of something. I was thinking on my own. As I leaned against the wall, I heard voices. I sprang away and then realized what had happened. I was leaning against the wall between the Persian’s study and the bathroom.
This was perfect. I would have the chance to listen to what was being said. And, this is what I heard.
“Murderer of Count Philippe, what has you done with his brother and Christine Daae?” I knew the voice. It was the Persian. Then, I heard a voice I had thought I would never hear or want to hear again, Erik’s.
He sighed and then gasped as he said, “Daroga, don’t talk to me… about Count Philippe… He was dead… by the time… I left my house… he was dead… when… the siren sang… It was an… accident… a sad… a very sad… accident. He fell very awkwardly… but simply and naturally… into the lake!...”
My heart broke at the sound of his voice. He sounded so hurt. What had I done! I slipped out of the bathroom and moved to the door and peeked through the keyhole. I wanted to see what was happening.
Erik bowed his head and spoke again,
“I have not come here… to talk about Count Philippe… but to tell you that… I am going… to die…” My heart stopped. Die! He couldn’t! WHY? I bit my lip to hold back a gasp and continued to listen.
The Persian asked, “Where are Raoul de Chagny and Christine Daae?” I didn’t even bother with the irony of that question and my position.
Erik stated again, “I am going to die.”
The Persian stated again as well, “Raoul de Chagny and Christine Daae?”
Erik ignored him completely and started to sob a little. “Of love… Daroga… I am dying… of love… That is how it is… I loved her so!... And I love her still… and I am dying of love for her, I… I tell you!... If you knew how beautiful she was… when she let me kiss her… alive… It was the first… time, Daroga, the first… time I ever had kissed a woman… Yes, alive… I kissed her alive… and she looked as beautiful as if she had been dead!”
My heart broke at his confession of love. He really did love me. It wasn’t a fitful passion that would pass. No, it was love. A real love. A burning love. Different that Raoul’s love. His was calm and quiet. Erik’s was full of a fire that frightened but also drew.
The Persian shook him and almost shouted, “Will you tell me if she is alive or dead?”
Erik seemed a little dazed as he spoke, making an effort to speak more connectedly, “Why do you shake me like that? I tell you that I am going to die… I kissed her alive.” I never realized how much that kiss meant to him. A kiss was a kiss to me. It seemed to be the only thing he had been thinking about.
“And now she is dead?” The Persian asked.
Erik shook his head and said, “I tell you I kissed her just like that, on her forehead… and she did not draw back her forehead from my lips!... Oh, she is a good girl!... As to her being dead, I don’t think so but it has nothing to do with me… No, no, she is not dead! And no one shall touch a hair of her head! She is a good, honest girl, and she saved your life, Daroga, at a moment when I wouldn’t have given two pence for your Persian skin. As a matter of fact, nobody bothered about you. Why were you there with that little chap? You would have died as well as he! My word, how she entreated me for her little chap! But I told her that, as she had turned the scorpion. She had, through that very fact, and of her own free well, become engaged to me and that she did not need to have two men engaged to her, which was true enough.”
I remembered that time. Begging him for the life of the two men. He had lost his mind in his desire to keep me. To tell the truth I had long ago realized that it was partially my fault it had all happened. I was the one who couldn’t decide and who was weak. Yet, he still loved me after all I had put him through.
He spoke again,
“As for you, you did not exist, you had ceased to exist, I tell you, and you were going to die with the other!... Only, mark me, Daroga, when you were yelling like the devil, because of the water, Christine same to me with her beautiful blue eyes wide open, and swore me, as she hoped to be saved, that she consented to my living wife!... Until then, in the depths of her eyes, Daroga, I had always seen my dead wife; if was the first time I saw my living wife there. She was sincere, as she hoped to be saved. She would not kill herself. It was bargain… Half a minute later, all the water was back in the lake; and I had a hard job with you, Daroga, for upon my honor, I thought you were done for!... However!... There you were!... It was understood that I was to take you both to the surface of the earth. When, at least, I cleared Louis-Philippe room of you, I came back alone…”
The Persian interrupted and said, “What have you done with the Vicomte de Chagny?”
“Ah, you see, Daroga, I couldn’t carry him up like that, at once… He was a hostage… But I could not keep him in the house on the lake, either, because of Christine; so I locked him up comfortable, I chained him up nicely – a whiff of Mazenderan scent had left him as limp as a rag – in the Communist’s dungeon, which is the most deserted and remote part of the Opera, below the fifth cellar, where no one ever comes and where no one ever hears you. Then I came back to Christine, she was waiting for me.”
Erik stood up reverently and solemnly. I at least now knew where Raoul had been. He wouldn’t tell me anything. He didn’t want to upset me. I remembered vividly everything that Erik was about to recount,
“Yes, she was waiting for me… waiting for me erect and alive, a real, living bride… as she hoped to be saved… And, when I… came forward, more timid than… a little child, she did not run away… no, no… she stayed… she waited for me… I even believe… Daroga… that she put out her forehead… a little… oh, not much… just a little… like a living bride… And… and… I kissed her!... I!... I!... And she did not die!... OH, how good it is, Daroga, to kiss somebody on the forehead!... You can’t tell!... But I!... I!... My mother, Daroga, my poor unhappy mother would never… let me kiss her… She used to throw me my mask!... Nor any other woman… ever, ever!... Ah, you can understand, my happiness was so great, I cried. And I fell at her feet, crying… and I kissed her feet… her little feet… crying. You’re crying, too, Daroga… and she cried also… the angel cried!...”
Erik was shaking and sobbing. Tears poured in silent floods down my cheeks. It had meant that much to him. Just a little kiss. I closed my eyes and let my eyes gush tears. The Persian cried a little as well. My heart broke as I heard Erik moaning in pain and love. His heart was breaking and I swore I heard the shattering of it. He clutched at his heart and I clutched at my chest as I felt my heart shattering with him. I had done this. What had I done? All for a man who wasn’t the prince charming I thought.
Erik spoke again and I strained to catch every word, “Yes, Daroga… I felt her tears flow on my forehead… on mine, mine!... They were soft… they were sweet!... They trickled under my mask… they mingled with my tears in my eyes… yes… they flowed between my lips… Listen, Daroga, listen to what I did… I tore off my mask so as not to lose one of her tears… and she did not run away!... And she did not die!.. She remained alive, weeping over me, with me. We cried together! I have tasted all the happiness the world can offer!”
The moment I heard that statement I knew what I had to do. What I wanted to do. There was so much more to life than just what he had experienced. He knew nothing of what it was to be loved. I wanted to show him. I did love him. I had been afraid of him and my fear covered the love I held for him. But, the fear was gone and all I saw was my love for him. For this beautiful man with the voice of an angel.
Erik collapsed into a chair and choked for breath as he said, “Ah, I am not going to die yet… presently I shall… but let me cry!... Listen, Daroga… listen to this… While I was at her feet… I heard her say, ‘Poor, unhappy Erik!’… And she took my hand!... I had become no more, you know, than a poor dog ready to die for her… I mean it, Daroga!... I held in my hand a ring, a plain gold ring which I had given her… which she had lost… and which I had found again… a wedding-ring, you know… I slipped it onto her little hand and said, ‘There!.. Take it!... Take it for you… and him!... It shall be my wedding-present a present from your poor, unhappy Erik… and I know you love the boy… don’t cry anymore!...’ She asked me, in a very soft voice, what I mean… Then I made her understand that, where she was concerned, I was only a poor dog, ready to die for her… but that she could marry the young man when she pleased, because she had cried with me and mingled her tears with mine!...”
Erik was sobbing so hard that he had to remove his mask. He told Daroga not to look but I watched as he removed it. He wasn’t so bad. I would easily learn to live with it. The tears was pouring down his face and I felt I couldn’t cry anymore I had cried so much.
I turned the golden ring on my finger and my shoulders shook from the grief that was ripping through me.
Erik started to speak again but his voice was breaking from all the tears. “I went and released the young man,” Erik continued, “and told him to come with me to Christine… They kissed before me in the Louis-Philippe room… Christine… had my ring… I made Christine swear to come back, one night, when I was dead, crossing the lake from the Rue-Scribe side, and bury me in the greatest secrecy with the gold ring, which she was to wear until that moment… I told her where she would find my body and what to do with it… Then Christine kissed me, for the first time, herself, here on the forehead – don’t look, Daroga! – here, on the forehead… on my forehead, mine – don’t look, Daroga! – and they went off together… Christine had stopped crying… I alone cried… Daroga, Daroga, if Christine keeps her promise, she will come back soon!...”
The Persian asked him no more questions and I just watched as Erik replaced the mask. My first instinct was to run in and pull it off. I was growing to hate the porcelain.
Erik stood up and thanks Daroga for some things and what he would send him and then answered a few questions the Persian had decided to ask and then told him to place a notice in the newspaper upon his death so that I would know he was dead.
The Persian walked over to the bell cord and rang for Darius. I darted from the keyhole and ran down the hall towards the stairs. He was coming up and I quickly gasped out,
“Darius, can you do something for me?” He gave me a strange look then said,
“Of course, Mademoiselle.” I swallowed and said,
“Send the man in the study to the kitchen. Tell him that a person wishes to speak to him alone. Don’t give me name or gender. Please!” I needed to talk to Erik. It was split second decision and for a moment I doubted myself. What would happen?
I didn’t care. I needed to talk to him. I needed to tell him I loved him. Darius looked at me strangely and nodded.
“I can. I shall do so. Is everything alright, Mademoiselle?” I nodded and ran towards the kitchen to prepare myself. After taking a seat in a chair before the fire I twisted my fingers together and fretted. My stomach was a mess and I was panicking. Why had I done this?! What had I been thinking!?
Erik loved me and I loved him. I didn’t love Raoul. He had just been infatuation. He would grieve when he found I was gone. I looked at the ring and decided that if Erik still wanted a living wife then that golden ring would bind us together as husband and wife. Come what may.
I set my jaw firmly and then heard footsteps nearing kitchen. I closed my eyes and heard Erik speak,
“The servant told me someone wanted to see me?” His voice was calm and I never would have believed that he was the same man who had been falling apart in the Persian’s study had I not seen it with my own eyes.
I stood up from the large chair and looked at him. He had his back to me and I said,
“I wanted to talk to you.” He stiffened and I saw his hands shaking. He didn’t turn to look at me but whispered,
“Christine, why are you here?” He was trying to hold himself together. I didn’t know how he was doing it but he was at least trying. I walked forward and lifted my hand to touch his shoulder. I stopped before I did though.
“I came to talk to Daroga who I thought might know how to find you.” I then did touch his shoulder. He jumped and pulled away from me.
“You’re a fool, Christine. Go back to your boy.” He started to walk towards the door but I swore I heard a faint sob coming from him. He was trying to stay strong. I wished he would just break down and tell the truth.
“Erik, you’re not leaving until I have had my say.” I spoke firmly. Never in my life had I put my foot down. Now, I had and it felt good to stand on my own two feet. He turned to look at me and I pointed at the chair I had been sitting in. He walked over to it, in shock. I could tell.
I folded my arms and said,
“Erik, I was listening at the door when you were talking with the Persian.” He gasped and was about to say something when I raised my hand to silence him. “Erik, I have come to my senses. For the past few months I haven’t been thinking quite right. I am not that old. I am not even eighteen. I was too young to completely understand what was going on.”
Erik hung his head and I could feel his shame. I knew he hated himself for all that had happened. “I have been thinking. I don’t love Raoul. I never did. He was simply a good friend. He treats me like I am helpless. I am growing to like him less and less. True love isn’t something that can fluctuate like that. ”
Erik looked up at me and I reached out gently and laid a hand on his mask. His hands were shaking as he laid one on top of mine. They were cold but I didn’t mind. This was the man I loved. He removed my hand from his mask and just looked at me. I smiled,
“Erik, I love you. I always have. I just feared you too much to realize it.” Erik gasped and moved like lightning to the other side of the room. A hand went to the part of mask where his mouth was and it was shaking. His whole body was shaking as he dropped to his knees on the ground.
He gasped out,
“No!... No!... You can’t!... Christine!...” He sobbed as he tried to speak. “Christine, I am not… lovable!...” He covered his face and rocked back and forth. “Come to your senses!...” He cried out. My heart broke all over again.
How could he believe he was unlovable? He was lovable. He was a man like all men. No, better than all men. I walked over to him and knelt down before him, laying a hand on his shoulder. Never had I been so sure of anything.
He stopped moving and looked up at me with those glorious golden eyes. I laid a hand on his mask and removed the mask. He seemed in such shock he couldn’t move. He was frozen in place. Setting the mask down on the ground I ran my hand through his hair and stroked his bare cheek.
Tears were flooding down them same as mine. I closed my eyes and moved forward. Our lips touched and molded together as if they had been made for each other. The kiss wasn’t deep or long. It was enough though to bring him out of his frozen state and prove to him that I meant every word.
When he pulled away, I opened my eyes and he just looked at me. I smiled.
“Erik, I love you.” Timidly, he ran his hand through my hair. Closing my eyes, I relaxed into his hands. His touch was comforting and he kept doing it.
Suddenly, he whispered, “Christine, you really love me?” I opened my eyes and nodded. “I do. I always will.” I was pleased he finally realized it. He looked at my hair in his hands and whispered,
“If you love me, would you... would you…” He stopped talking for a moment then whispered, “be my living bride? I can’t love you and not marry you.” He looked away and reached for his mask. “I can understand that you wouldn’t. I am a monster. I even look like one. Of course, an angel wouldn’t want to marry me. I am such a fool.” He pulled the mask on and turned away.
I smiled and turned him back towards me. “I will be your living wife. Forever.” I removed the mask. “Please, leave it off. It is very hard to kiss you with it on.” I smiled and kissed him again. The kiss lasted longer and was more fire filled. He laid his hand on my waist and tugged me closer.
We were still sitting on the floor of the kitchen but I had long forgotten. I didn't care. We were together again. Forever.
(-----About Seventy Years Later-----)
I looked at the form on the bed and took the dead hand.
“Well, paradise is over, my love. It was bond to end.” Erik was dead. Well, I knew it would come one day. He had turned one hundred a few weeks ago. I was eighty two. I had been surprised how well his health lasted him.
My health had been failing and now that Erik was dead I knew it wouldn't live for long. I climbed into the bed beside him and laid my head down on his chest. I kissed his dead lips one last time and closed my eyes forever.
And, so ended the lovely but tragic tale of a monster and an angel.
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Dear Readers,
I didn't mean for this to be SOOOOOOOOOO long. I hoped you enjoyed all 4208 words of it. Yes, that is alot. The longest I have ever written.
sarahlet2999