Chapter Sixteen || Magician Revealed
"To be good, all I ever needed was to be loved."
~ The Phantom in Le Fantôme de l'Opéra by Gaston Leroux
~*~
Gasps, screams, and shouts burst from the auditorium as everyone had a good look at what laid beneath the Phantom's mask. All around me the performers shrieked in fear, their hands flying up to their eyes to shield them from the terror above them. They all cried, "Horror! Horror! Horror!" The cops were frozen in their places, completely forgetting about their duty and the reason they came to the opera tonight.
Up high on the walkway Erik had screamed, his form shriveling under the gaze of his spectators. Beside him Christine stared at the mask and black wig in her hands, not knowing what came over her or exactly how she had gotten this far in their plan. They weren't supposed to get this far. They were supposed to take Erik after he came onstage. And now...now what had she done?
What had I done?
With a snarl on his face, Erik looked all around him, the fear and embarrassment he had felt morphing into anger. He glared back at the stage lights, the few strands of hair he had covered with a black wig nearly disappearing in their strong glare. Next to him he spotted a lever, the thick rope connected to it leading up and disappearing into the ceiling. Growling, he kicked the lever open and slashed the rope with the sword he had worn for both costume and defense. The rope hissed through the air, going up into the ceiling from which it came. And then, tinkling like a thousand ice cubes falling into a champaign glass, the chandelier began to shake, the premature rumblings of a disastrous earthquake. All at once it began to fall, the rope Erik had cut no longer able to hold it up. The poor mortals beneath it scrambled over each other to escape from the wrath of the falling chandelier.
On the walkway, Christine screamed as Erik brought her close. Kicking another lever the floor of the walkway opened up, plummeting them both through the hole in the fake bonfire and to the pits of Hell.
And as they fell through the trapdoor inside the fake pit of fire, the chandelier followed, crashing to the stage and creating another inferno; a real one. Down they went, chandelier and Phantom. In less than a minute two beautiful things crashed and burned, tearing everything and everyone down with them.
I got pushed this way and that as the theater's employees ran to their escape. I stood rooted to the ground, watching with wide eyes as the opera house went up in flames. The devastated roar of the fire and the cries of the people filled my ears to the brink and I had to cover them to shut out the noise. Rising above the crowd I heard Carlotta's voice, "Oh, ma no! Piangi, my love!" A couple of dancers who had heard her howl rushed to the curtain it came from and ripped it open. They, too, screamed once they saw the balling Italian woman and the dead man she wept over. The lasso around Piangi's neck stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the colors of red that surrounded it.
Erik. I must get to Erik.
Under the floor boards of the stage I heard muffled yelling, "Let me go! Let me go!" Another faint growl made its way to my ears, and I dashed after it just as Raoul bumped into me, his attention on the fleeing Madame Giry.
I watched him fade into the crowd, hearing his voice slowly disappear into the shrill noises surrounding us, "Madame Giry!"
I heard Christine struggle against Erik's strong hold, her cries leading away to the cellars beneath the Opéra Populaire. I followed the sound, locating them and then teleporting to the winding staircase they descended. I kept a safe distance away from them, slipping from shadow to shadow as I watched the glow of Erik's torch move its way along the damp walls. Erik's voice shook the ground as he yelled at his prisoner, "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!" His last word rang in the air as I struggled to keep up and remain unnoticed.
Going down one of the stairways, I saw the two of them through a break in the wall. Erik abruptly halted, yanking Christine close to him using the arm he firmly held, "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!" Christine strained to keep her face turned away, as though she was afraid Erik's angry words would burn her if she got too close. Grunting, Erik continued to drag her down to the fifth cellar.
Voices from above caused me to stop, the sounds floating down to me like tempestuous moans of ghosts, "Track down this murder, he must be found! Track down this murderer he must be found!"
Their furious chanting and heavy footsteps caused me to speed up my own pace after the two humans the voices sought after. I ran perpendicular to the boat as Erik brought them to his lair. Once there, he picked Christine up like the child she was and roughly set her on the ground, all the while shouting his frustrations, "Hounded out by everyone! Met with hatred everywhere! No kind words from anyone! No compassion anywhere!" He held Christine's shoulders, a sob breaking into his harangue. He looked up into her eyes, his face and voice softening with sorrow, "Christine, why?" When she remained silent, no doubt too afraid to utter a syllable, Erik shook her and repeated, "Why?!" Both Christine and I flinched at his sharpness.
This time, instead of waiting for an answer, Erik dragged her to the other side of the layer, tearing down the curtain that concealed the duplicate bride of Christine, "Take it or leave it! A wedding march or a funeral march." He yanked the mannequin bride off its holder and dragged it and Christine into the bedroom. I teleported closer, hiding behind one of the draperies. Erik threw the doll onto the bed, "But I'm tired, very tired...I've had enough, do you hear? Enough of having a forest in my house, and a torture chamber! Enough of being lodged like a mountebank in a double-bottomed box! I've had enough, enough! I want to have a quiet apartment, with ordinary doors and windows, and a good wife in it, like everyone else!" As he went on he tore off the fastenings of the wedding dress, pulling Christine back whenever she tried to sneak out of the room. Bringing her close, Erik began with the fastenings of Christine's costume, her sobs being thrown at the force of Erik's hands. An unpleasant smile formed on Erik's lips as he continued speaking, attempting to act like nothing wrong was occurring, "A funeral march isn't exactly cheerful whereas a wedding march... It's magnificent! You must make up your mind and know what you want! As for me, I can't go on living like this, underground, in a hole, like a mole! Don Juan Triumphant is finished, and now I want to live like everyone else. I want a wife like everyone else! You ought to understand that, Christine, and I shouldn't have to keep repeating it to you! A wife like everyone else... I'd love her, and take her out for a walk on Sunday, and amuse her all through the week. Ah, you wouldn't be bored with me!" By now he had removed Christine's outer layers, replacing them with his wedding dress. With the veil in his hand he grabbed Christine's arm and brought her to the other room, walking past me as they went. He held both her arms, shaking her to make her look at him, "You'll be the happiest of women. And we'll sing for ourselves alone, we'll sing till we're ready to die from pleasure...." He stopped, his eyes scanning her face. His next words came out softer, hollower, "You're crying! You're afraid of me! But I'm not really a bad man. Love me and you'll see! To be good, all I ever needed was to be loved. If you love me, I'd be gentle as a lamb and you could do whatever you pleased with me." His eyes continued to search her drenched face while Christine weakly tried to push herself away from him.
Erik's face hardened, the look resembling that of a stubborn child about to cry. Shoving Christine to the ground, Erik turned away from her, grabbing the side of a chair for support while sobbing, "You don't love me! You don't love me! You don't love me!"
A heavy silence fell over the lair, save for the crying of the mortals who were faced away from each other. The veil in Erik's hand dragged against the floor as he sobbed against the high back chair. On the ground, Christine trembled like a giant, wobbling marshmallow, her tears streaming down her cheeks and to the rock floor she laid on. Christine leerily grabbed the fabric of her wedding dress, the lines of her face hardening with anger and frustration as she gazed at the fabric. She whipped around to look at Erik, her brows tightly pushed together in fury, "Have you had enough?! Was poor Buquet and Piangi enough to sate your thirst?! Have you gorged yourself at last in your lust for blood?!" She struggled with the many layers of fabric and rose to her feet. "Am I now to be prey to your lust for flesh?!" She stood tall and defiant, her earlier fear vanishing into thin air.
Erik's tears also disappeared, that dangerous demeanor returning. From his pocket he pulled out a chain, finding its pendant and holding it between his thumb and forefinger. From where I stood I saw the ring glimmer in the candlelight, remembering it to be the ring Raoul had given Christine and the one Erik stole the night of the masked ball. Turning the ring over to study it he said, "That fate which condemns me to wallow in blood..." He slowly turned to face her, the veil catching on a few ragged rocks as he made his way over to her, "...has also denied me the joys of the flesh." He raised his hand to touch her face, recoiling when Christine turned away from him. He touched one of her curls, the frustration prominent in his voice, "This face, the infection which poisons our love..." At this, Christine faced him, a look of disbelief written across her face. Under her scrutiny, Erik dropped his gaze in embarrassment, moving his attention to the ring and veil in his hands. He anxiously fiddled with the two items, suddenly too shy to look Christine in the eyes, "This face earned a mother's love, a mother's fear and loathing. My mother always told me, 'Hide your face, Erik! Hide your face so the world will never find you!'" He glanced up at Christine, awkwardly shifting on his feet like he was suddenly unsure of what to do. He took a hesitant step backwards, his face still downcast and his eyes quickly darting around the floor. He talked mostly to himself than to Christine, "Mother made me a mask to hide my face-" he then stopped, his eyes stilling momentarily and his brows furrowing, "Much like Alouette did." He shook his head and smiled slightly, "She didn't know what great deed she was doing for humanity, what favors she was making by assisting me in hiding my face. Both Mother and Alouette." He glanced at Christine again, giving her an almost humble grin, like the creations his mother and I had given him were such things as a new book or piano instead of a garment to hide his unfortunate deformity. For a moment, the gesture and look he gave Christine made him look ordinary, the shrug appearing nonchalant and in place. He looked like a young man explaining an embarrassing fact to a girl he liked, the piece of information causing him to blush because he knew how foolish it was; and yet he hoped she would still like him, despite that embarrassing fact.
Erik turned to a mirror whose cover had fallen off during his rampage to get the wedding dress. He walked up close to it, the chain of the necklace hanging between his fingers as they touched his face. He spoke softly, almost inaudibly, "Erik was afraid of his face. He had nightmares of it after he first saw it... Erik was only five then..." His fingers kept feeling the half of his face he usually kept hidden, the tips of his fingers tracing the boils and blemishes like each one was a gateway to a memory from his childhood - his scarred childhood. When he talked, he talked as if he were addressing the ghosts in the memories his face replayed for him, "I made Mother so unhappy..." His lips twitched downwards. "Erik makes everyone unhappy..."
From where I stood, I could see Christine's features soften, the images of a lonely boy causing us both to feel sorrow for the broken man he had become. Fresh tears began forming in Christine's eyes. She lifted her head and turned to face the man she had been so angry with moments ago.
In the mirror's reflection, she watched as Erik continued to touch his face. His eyes then snapped to hers in the mirror, the swirling green hardening to solid jade. He whipped around and growled, "Pity comes too late! Turn around and face your fate! An eternity of this," he slammed the veil onto Christine's head and jabbed a finger at his face, "before your eyes!" The lair rung with the sudden silence like it, too, was screaming in fear.
The sadness that had been on Christine's angelic features had now vanished, a mixture of anger and incredulity at Erik's blindness replacing it. As she stared at him with bewildered eyes, Erik fixed the veil and adjusted her gown, carefully sliding the ring off its chain and into her hand. When he finally stopped his fiddling he looked up at her, looking like a dog peering up at his master and wondering if his attempts to distract her from his earlier wrong doings had worked. They hadn't.
Christine kept her piercing gaze on Erik, her head shaking side to side as the words left her mouth, "This haunted face holds no horror for me now." At this, Erik's eyes lit up. But once they did Christine rushed forward in a burst of fury and placed her hand on his chest, "It's in your soul that the true distortion lies!" Erik's face fell, the truth in her words creating confusion in his hollow eyes. This look, however, didn't last long.
At the sound of someone pushing through the murky waters, Erik's lips twisted into a menacing smile, "Wait. I think, my dear, we have a guest!"
Christine's head snapped toward the iron gate. Upon seeing a battered Raoul she cried out his name and rushed to the edge of the lake. Erik followed her, an arrogant smirk replacing his previous snarl, "Sir, this is indeed, an unparalleled delight!" He bowed sarcastically to Raoul, "I had rather hoped that you would come! And now," he clasped his hands together and smiled to the ceiling in over exaggerated joy, "my wish comes true! You have truly made my night!" He slowly lowered his gaze to Raoul, his eyes darkening as they met him. He then grabbed Christine's waist and pulled her toward him, planting an unwanted kiss deep into her curls.
When his fiancé began struggling against her captor, Raoul surged forward and reached through the iron bars, "Free her! Do what you like, only free her! Have you no pity?!"
Freeing Christine, Erik turned to her with eyes that dripped with satire, "Your lover makes a passionate plea."
Looking from Erik to Raoul, Christine sobbed, "Please, Raoul, it's useless!"
Ignoring his lover's words Raoul went on, "I love her! Does that mean nothing?!" Erik turned away, his lips going down into a tired frown. "I love her! Show some compassion!"
In a burst of rage Erik spun around and roared, "The world showed no compassion to me!"
Flinching only slightly, Raoul continued, using a different tactic; he looked at Christine and called softly to her, "Christine, Christine. Let me see her."
"Be my guest, sir." Erik walked over to the lever that controlled the gate and pushed it back. While the rusty gears scraped against each other, I heard another roll of thunder from outside.
When the iron gate rose high enough for Raoul to duck beneath it, he examined in exhausted awe at the lair around him. The arrogant demeanor returning, Erik sauntered into the waters to meet the distracted Raoul. Erik spread his arms wide in a false greetings, "Monsieur, I bid you welcome!" Raoul wearily faced Erik, the closing gate behind him going unnoticed. Gesturing back to Christine, Erik went on, "Did you think that I would harm her? Why would I make her pay, for the sins which are yours?!" Faster than the eye could see, Erik grabbed a lasso that he had planted in the dark waters and agilely threw it around Raoul's neck. The gasps of Christine and I were lost in Raoul's cries as he struggled against Erik. As Erik tied him to the iron gate he mockingly yelled, "'Order your fine horses now!' 'Raise up your hand to the level of your eyes!' Nothing can save you now-" He stopped, his eyes glazing over as if a thought just occurred to him. Turning to look at Christine he muttered, "Except, perhaps...Christine." The water splashed wildly with every desperate step Erik took to get to Christine. Grabbing her by the shoulders he shouted his revelation, "Start a new life with me! By his freedom with your love!" Wrapping her arms around his neck, he talked Christine into a ball on the floor and continued to yell, "Refuse me and you send your lover to his death! This is the choice! This is the point of no return!"
The sounds of Christine's shivers and Raoul's harsh breathing filled the air. Erik loomed over Christine, his fists clenched and his own breathing as loud as the thunder erupting outside.
Christine's whimpering then stopped, her face - which was visible from where I hid - hardened into an unforgiving scowl. When she spoke, her words came out soft, but strong, "The tears I might have shed for your dark fate, grow cold," she then twisted to look up at Erik, her eyes filled with loathing as she yelled, "and turn to tears of hate!"
Every bone in Erik's body seemed to sag, his face filled with a sort of lost hopelessness. He looked like a man who had tried everything he could to think of to win the woman he loves, and still found no result in his favor.
A resigned frown took over Erik's face as he turned from Christine. Standing, Christine continued to glare at Erik, not hearing the pleas of forgiveness from her bound lover. Removing the veil from her head she stared at it, "Farewell my fallen idol and false friend!" Bundling up the veil she waved it at the man who made it, "We had such hopes and now those hopes are shattered!" She threw it at his back, making Erik glance at her over his shoulder.
With a menacing smirk he walked over to a small pile of rope, muttering as he went, "Too late for turning back. Too late for prayers and useless pity."
When the light fell on the lasso in Erik's hands, Christine's eyes widened. Erik pushed passed her, taking his time to make his way through the lake to Raoul and wrapping the noose around the vicomte's neck.
While all this took place, Raoul pleaded to Christine to let him die, that her freedom meant more than his own life. Erik's voice rose above Raoul's, his words seemingly more to himself than to Christine or Raoul, "Past all hope of cries for help. No point in fighting. For either way you choose you cannot win."
Looping the end of the noose through an opening in the gate, Erik held on tightly to the rope around Raoul's neck. Facing Christine, Erik yelled, "So do you end your days with me? Or do you send him to his grave?" He yanked on the rope, causing Raoul to choke and gag for air.
Despite the rope around his neck, Raoul still managed to say to Erik, "Why make her lie to you to save me?" Erik snarled again, pulling the rope tighter and tighter as he walked away from the poor vicomte.
Three different voices rose up: Erik's telling Christine to choose, Raoul's begging Christine to say no, and Christine's trying to console Erik.
Once the eruption finally calmed, Raoul stared beseechingly at Christine, "I fought so hard to free you."
Christine, her face drenched with tears and her skin aging with torment, looked to Erik and said, "You deceived me. You are no angel, you are no man. You preyed on my innocence. You preyed on my ignorance. I gave you my mind blindly. Who deserves this? Who?"
His grip tightening on the rope in his hands, Erik growled, "You try my patience. Make your choice." He emphasized each word, yanking harder on the rope and coaxing another strangled cry from Raoul.
From behind a tapestry, I watched with wet cheeks and muffled sobs. In the water, Erik's chest heaved with every breath he took. In the half darkness, only the deformed side of his face showed, his good side darkened and hidden from view, the monster taking control. It was me who wondered what caged beast resided within Erik's soul. And now here he is, that primal animal showing his teeth with a mighty roar.
Oh, Erik. What have I done?
I did this. I ruined their happiness. I ruined their destiny. I ruined their love. Not Erik's face, not his inner beast - me. I did it. It is my fault Buquet got killed. It is my fault Piangi got killed. If I had just left well enough alone. If I had just let things unfold the way they were supposed to. If I hadn't allowed Loki to get inside my head. If I hadn't let my newfound inner darkness win over me. And now look at what I've done. Look at what I destroyed. I've destroyed everything. Me.
And it shall be me who fixes this.
Christine stood by the lake's edge, the hem of her gown emerged only an inch. She stared out at the two men in the water, her eyes shifting between the two.
I took in a deep breath, Christine's chest rising with my own. When we both blinked, I gazed at the two men through Christine's eyes, the blue haze softening the hurt I felt inside of Christine. Moving my gaze to Erik, I smiled through my tears. And then I did what I knew best, I did what I knew would comfort Erik's damaged soul; I sang, "Pitiful creature of darkness. What kind of life have you known?" For the first time in my long life, my voice cracked, the sadness taking its toll on me. With every word, I submerged myself deeper into the water and closer to the broken man who needed me so much. No. Who needed Christine so much; his salvation, his redemption, his Heaven and his Earth. Not me. He never needed me. "God, give me courage to show you, you are not alone." Finally closing the distance between us, I slipped Erik's ring onto Christine's finger and leaned up, pressing her lips to his.
One genuine kiss. One genuine touch.
The rope splashed in the waters after Erik's hands lost ability to hold onto it any longer. Pulling back, I stared up at him, caressing the malformed side of his face and smiling sadly at him as he stared down at me in shock.
Erik. Sweet, Erik. Sweet, broken, and unhappy Erik.
I kissed him again, wishing I could feel what Christine felt. He melted in her arms, sagging against her as his soul soared, their tears mixing and becoming one.
And then, in an abrupt movement, Erik pulled away, his eyes filled with amazement and shock. He felt his lips with his fingertips, edging away from Christine like he was warding her off from some deadly disease he withheld. My brows knit together as I watched him walk away, his face twisted with pain.
A sudden burst from deep in the cellars caused me to break my connection with Christine. No one heard it but me, no one heard the chants of the mob, "Track down this murderer! He must be found! Hunt out this animal, who runs to ground!"
Half walking and half crawling up out of the lake, Erik sobbed to the two bewildered mortals in the water, "Take her. Forget me. Forget all of this. Leave me alone. Forget all you've seen." He turned away as Christine desperately untied Raoul and embraced him. "Go now, don't let them find you. Take the boat. Swear to me, never to tell. The secret you know of the angel in Hell." Reaching the door to his bedroom, he dared a glance down at the lake. He met the eyes of Christine. She took a step towards him, Raoul's hand the only thing stopping her from going up to him. Before another sob could tear from Erik's shaken body, he yelled, "Go now! Go now, and leave me!"
When he disappeared into his room, I stood dumbfounded in my hiding spot.
He let her go. Why would he let her go?
The chants of the mob were closer now, the group only a level away. I saw Christine and Raoul pull at the lever, the hidden safety on it preventing it from moving.
Rushing from my place I ran over to them, brushing their hands away and looking for the safety Erik had showed me so many years ago.
Christine stared at me, "Madame Alouette. What are you doing here? How did you get here?"
"It doesn't matter now. Right now the both of you need to get away from here." Finding the latch I flipped it, successfully undoing the safety and pulling the lever back. Smiling, I said, "Erik had told me he put a safety on here to prevent any captors from opening the gate on their own. I hadn't known what he meant until now." Christine said nothing, she only stared at me.
I hurried them both to the boat and helped Raoul push it into the water. After he got in, I turned to Christine, "Here, give me your hand so I can help you in." I took her left hand, discretely slipping the ring off of her finger after she got into the boat. "You know how to get back, don't you?" They nodded, their round eyes resembling frightened children.
Before Raoul pushed off, Christine grabbed my wrist, "Wait! What about you?"
My lips twitching into a small smile, I said, "I'm where I wish to be. Don't worry about me."
Her eyes never left me as I turned and walked up the stairs to Erik's room. Standing at the top step, I looked at Christine, giving her a reassuring nod and smile before making her look the other way. Once she did, I transformed, my own flesh and hair melting away and changing into the image of a different woman.
I took in a deep breath, attempting to steady my heart rate and save my strength to keep the illusion strong. Stepping around the corner, I stood just inside Erik's room, the sight before me grabbing my heart and piercing it with a rusty knife.
"Masquerade. Paper faces on parade. Masquerade. Hide your face so the world will never find you..." Erik caressed the monkey he treasured so dearly, it's music fading away. I kept his attention on the music box just a while longer, needing a moment to restrain the overwhelming need to sob or scream or do anything to make me forget that I had been the one to put Erik through this pain.
All of this - Don Juan, the opera house being consumed by flames, Christine choosing Raoul - it would never have happened if I hadn't interfered. Everyone knew the day would come when the Phantom of the Opera got tired of being the puppeteer and would want to join his puppets himself. But I did this. I agitated the sleeping giant. I held out the bait and lured him into the center of the stage, into the spotlight. I caused that beautiful creature in the sky to crash and burn, destructing everything else in it's wake. And now here he sits, all alone and drowning in his devastation. The magician's secrets finally exposed, leaving him no longer a wizard, but a mortal, a common man.
My magic failing me, Erik turned and met my false eyes. With a shaky breath, he whispered his last plea, "Christine, I love you..."
Thick tears fell from my eyes as I rushed towards him, holding out the ring to show it to him. He dropped his gaze to it, another tear falling as he made to take it from me. When I drew back and shook my head, he looked up at me in confusion.
Stepping closer to him, I lifted my left hand, the hand that now looked like Christine's. After he moved his attention to my hand, I lifted the other that held his ring. Slowly, I slid it onto my ring finger, making sure he knew what the motion meant.
His head snapped up to meet my eyes, a blur of a thousand emotions passing over his face. Standing up, he towered over me, carefully grasping my shoulders, "Y-You mean...You mean you're staying? You'll stay with me? You'll be my wife?"
Forcing back the tear that threatened to spill, I whispered, "Yes, Erik." His smile nearly broke me and the illusion I struggled to maintain.
He embraced me tight, twirling me around and laughing into my hair. Once he stopped, he kept me in his arms and mumbled promises and adorations into my ear. I only wrapped my arms around him, resting my chin on his left shoulder and hoping he couldn't feel the tears soaking through his shirt.
I watched the boat float away, my duplicate clinging tightly to her lover as I am right now. Christine looked back briefly, her brows furrowing when she saw the exact replica of herself hugging the man she used to call her angel. And that was the last I ever saw of the famous Christine Daaé.