Get your own Free Home PageSurely death itself would be more comforting to him than staying in
this miserable hell, mourning the loss
of his beloved Christine. The day she had died, tortured Erik's soul.
He'd watched from the shadows as Christine's coffin was lowered into the
earth, as weeping friends shed silky tears. At least now she'd have some
kind of peace. That bloody fool de Changy couldn't have her now. Raoul
had killed her in the end, then stolen the
child the second closest thing to Erik's heart. Erik remembered
how he didn't show himself at the funeral, Changy wasn't there but there
were too many familiar faces, too many memories. But at the end as friends
left, he emerged and placed a soft, white, plush rose on the top of the
coffin, this reminded him of Christine's beautiful features which he had
so often gazed upon. Tears pricked at the back of his eyelids. God had
done nothing, she was so pure and her life was stolen before her eyes,
while he a murderer continued to live on, forever doomed to see any form
of happiness taken from him. Not anymore. Christine was dead. Now all that
was left to do was for him to
die too.
A single tear rolled down his cheek, his heart shattered. Let me die.
He thought. Let it all be over. Pushing his tears aside he strode over
to the mantel piece and picked up a cherry-wood rectangle shaped box. Opening
it revealed a small ivory pistol. He cocked it making sure it was loaded.
Raising it to his head, he thought, goodbye
miserable life on earth. This way he would see Christine again, love
again. He'd never been scared of death up till now, he'd welcomed it, no
more pain, over soon. His finger trembled on the trigger. His mind recited
over and over again,
The thine is the kingdom,
the power and the glory,
forever and ever,
Amen.
"Goodbye." He said aloud. A voice sliced through the air, a beautiful soprano voice,soaring with the music. It echoed around him. Vibrating off the walls. It caught him of guard, for a second, a second too long. He fell on his knees a sob tearing from his throat. The gun flew out of his hands and skidded across the hard stone floor.
* * * * *
"No, no, no NO! How many times must you continue to get these notes
wrong mademoiselle?"
"I'm sorry Pierre, I was taught to sing it differently."
"May I remind you, mademoiselle that I teach you now, all you ever
appear to do day-dream."
The girl threw the score roughly down on top of the piano.
"I know Pierre must you insist on telling me this time and time again."
"You have a big audition in three days, how do you expect to get the
part if your voice is so flimsy?"
"That does it! Get out Pierre, OUT! I will see you tomorrow as from
now this lesson is over!"
"But Elissa....." The 21yrs old, sandy haired music teacher replied.
" OUT!" Pierre sighed picked up his copy of the score and headed for
the door.
"Look Elissa.....learn the score all right it would make my job a lot
easier."
The girl slammed the door and sank to her knees. She sat back down
at her dresser and began to brush the long cascade of black curls that
ran down her back. Picking up the score off the piano she began to play.
Her fingers drifted over the keys, so gracefully and faultless that she
did not hear a small gasp of amazement from Erik
behind the mirror.
* * * * *
Erik stared through the mirror at the young woman who's voice had stopped his suicide attempt. His breath was caught in his throat. She was blue eyed and had long black hair. Her peach complexion made her even more beautiful. She reminded him of Christine. Quietly she began to correct the notes on the score.
She was a composer! His mind gasped. It was so rare to see one like
himself, someone wrapped up in their music. Her voice cut through his thoughts.
"Who's there?" Erik realised that he had gasped aloud. Not daring to
breathe Erik watched her.
She stood up and crossed over to the mirror. Touching it lovingly,
she gazed into the glass.
"I won't fail you mother."
Then she was gone out of the door in a flash, taking care to shut it
behind her.
Erik breathed out. There was something to live for after all.
* * * * *
Raoul the Vicomte de Changy, pursed his lips as he watched his daughter
leave the stage after the audition.
"Father!" Her voice rang out like an angel, like her mother. Raoul
bitterly recalled how Christine had died. He had killed her with one bullet
from his pistol. How his heart shattered, how his world dissolved. No.
that monster had killed her, sent her to her death. Not him. Elissa was
all he had left, the child. Christine's child. She was 19yrs old now, growing
into a young women, soon she would need a suitor. Pierre Dernier was the
obvious candidate, A
great musical teacher and artist. Indeed he was teaching Elissa to
sing. The perfect husband for her.
"Father?"
"You were wonderful Elissa."
"Thankyou." Unknown to Elissa a dark figure in box5 had also watched
her audition, watched as her soul lifted from her body. She was the one.
"Come, you have ballet practice with Mme Meg Giry, you do not
want to be
late."
"As you wish father." Elissa hurried to her dressing room , her efforts
had
been
rewarded, she was going to make it. She opened the door to her room
in
shock, there
was a bouquet of blood red roses, lying simply on her dressing room
table.
"How thoughtful." She picked up the card which was propped up beside
them,
written
carefully in red ink and read,
Congratulations on your audition, you sang like an angel......I hope
you
will allow me
to have the honour of becoming you maestro.
O.G
"No name, how strange." There was a furious rapping at the dressing
room
door,
"Elissa are you part of the ballet chorus?" Meg Giry's voice cut through
the
air.
"In a minute Madame." She had a last look around her room, then left.
She
never
heard the click of the mirror behind her.
Erik stepped out into the room. Time to put his plans into motion.
* * * * *
Erik carefully, concealing himself in shadow hid behind the safety curtain
of the opera
house, which was only lifted for performances. From here he had a perfect
view of the
stage and its occupants. In this case the ballet chorus. Who were preceding
to rehearse
the fairy glade in 'Il muto' act 3. He chuckled darkly to himself,
remembering how at
this point Buquet's garrotted body had fallen onto the stage. An easy
kill.
He continued
to watch. Wait. Until his prey,completely ignorant to him being there
walked
past him.
Then he would strike. And once he did it would be deadly.
Elissa was dancing in the middle, finding it difficult to keep her
balance,
en pointe.
"Elissa! Such lourd de jambe!" Meg's voice called out.
Erik smiled. She wasn't a dancer. But what she was, was a composer.
She
would serve
him for his music. His music. Erik was all prepared to abduct her and
take
back to the
labyrinth with him, when Meg caught sight of him in the wings. Damn
Erik
thought,
she's found me. Locking his eyes on hers, he drew his cloak around
him and
waited for
her approach.
"Madame." he cooed softly. Meg raised a hand to her lips as she approached
him.
"It is you....I thought you were dead."
"Well as you can see I still live."
"What have you come back here for monsieur....noone has heard from
you for
at least
ten years?"
"I'm not quite through with haunting this opera."
"What....what do you mean."
"I may be a little out of practice....but I can....shall we say still
kill."
"Kill? My God."
"The girls....their so young....so beautiful."
"Oh my God....you can't possibly mean to....to...." Erik's lips drew
into an
evil leer.
"One in particular.......I find her quite attractive you know.......I
might
invite her to my
labyrinth."
"Whoever she is monsieur.....leave her be, she has done nothing to
you."
"What would you do to stop me? What can you do to stop?" He laughed
hideously.
"Her" he pointed ou from the shadows ".......beautiful is she not."
He
pointed to Elissa
in the middle, still rehearsing. Meg turned pale, then recovered her
senses.
"What about her."
"What's her name."
"Monsieur you shall never know." A thin cord appeared from Erik's hands,
the
end
knotted as a noose.
"Her name Madame.....and remember it is not just your life at stake
here but
there's
aswell!"
"Never!"
"Then you leave me no choice."
A piece of scenery behind the girls fell down causing a great commotion,
it
hit the
ground with an almighty smash. Narrowly missing Annabel Laurent, the
head
ballet girl
who screamed and clutched Elissa.
"That was a close call Madame.....how many more lives would you waste?"
He let the rope slide between his fingers as he spoke.
"God have mercy on my soul.........her name's.......Elissa."
"Elissa......such a pretty name......fitting don't you think." The
tone in
his voice was
mocking, but chilled Meg right to the bone.
"You have what you wanted monsieur........now leave."
Wrapping his cloak around him once more he hissed,
"It would be wise Madame.....not to tell anyone about me.....lest anything
should
happen to a.....petite rat." He disappeared but the room still echoed
with
his
terrifyingly mocking laughter.
* * * * *
Elissa re-entered her dressing room. Poor Annabel was still in a state
of
shock after a
piece of scenery from Roi de laure had collapsed, almost crushing her
and
sending the
other girls into hysterics screaming,
"Its the Opera Ghost."
"He's here the Phantom of the Opera."
"He's with us, the ghost." Elissa had managed to pull her friend out
of its
path just in
time, before the whole thing came crashing down upon her. She thought
she
had heard
laughter, coming from one of the wings, maniacal laughter. She shuddered
at
the
thought of it. The sound had sent shivers up her spine.
She sat down at the dressing table, once again brushing her silky hair.
It was then that she noticed something, the mirror seemed to have a
sort of
spring
attached to it. Why would someone install a pivot in a mirror? She
pushed
it. The
mirror swung round to reveal a dark passage way, curious she wandered
in,
the mirror
closed behind her.
She guessed that she was in some sort of underground labyrinth, beneath
the
opera
house. It was too dark to see where she was actually going. Why hadn't
she
thought to
bring a lantern down here? Trying in vain to adjust her eyes to the
dark,
she made out
what looked like an underground lake. The ballet girls had often said
that
the Phantom
of the Opera, lived somewhere in the opera house near, in the cellars.
She
remembered
stories of the Phantom who lived across a lake. This must be where
he lived,
she
thought. The sound of shuffling broke her train of thought. Footsteps,
barley audible
but still there all the same. Someone or something was following her.
"Pierre is that you?"
No reply.
Must have been my imagination she thought and quickly cursed herself
for
believing
someone might have been following her.
* * * * *
Erik pursed the girl who had unwittingly, entered his lair. She couldn't
escape him
now. He tightened a small thin cord in his hands. In the dark he had
the
intruder at a
dis-advantage. His eyes blazed with the excitement of the hunt and
of the
kill.
As she neared the lake she made out a structure on the other side,
a house.
The legend was true.
"The Phantom's lair." She breathed softly. Without warning a rich male
voice
replied
behind her,
"Is that so mademoiselle." She felt the hands on her throat before
she had
time to
protest. Uttering a startled cry, she realised her attacker was trying
to
strangle
her.With her free arm she elbowed her attacker in the stomach, he cursed,
"Damn you.....you little bitch!"
Elissa ripped herself free and broke into a run. Not quite sure of
where she
was going,
she stumbled helplessly around in the dark. She crashed into what she
thought was a
piece of a rock only to find that it was indeed the figure of a man.
"Oh thank God, monsieur I wonder if you could help me......there's
someone
following
me and.........." She realised that it was her attacker. She turned
to run,
but the man
grabbed her arm twisting it almost being on the verge of breaking it.
She
cried out, the
pain was searing up her arm. His hand was once again enclosed round
her
fragile
throat. Viciously he yanked her head round to look up at him, his eyes
ablaze with a
murderous fury. She gave a small whimper. Erik lifted his fingers to
brush
them slightly
across her cheek then he moved them down to her slender white throat,
moving
his
fingers with the lightest of pressure across her flesh. So young. So
vulnerable. He
moved his fingers to her hair. Twining them through the cascade of
long
black curls.
His mind flashed unexpectedly, she was Christine, his angel, his love.
She
was so
beautiful. Christine. He lowered his head slightly in assent brushing
his
mouth lightly
against Elissa's temple. Elissa afraid of what he might do, gave a
feeble
plea for help.
"Let me go........" Erik snapped back into himself. The woman was an
intruder, no
better than the rest of them. She was trying in vain to free herself.
His
grip was too
strong for her. She screamed but his hand clamped over her mouth.
She
struggled
against him as his arm tightened round her waist, savagely he dragged
her to
the shore
of the lake. A small boat was by its edge. He flung her into it and
she hit
the side of her
head on the corner of the boat, he preceded to get in himself then
poled it
off. She
stared up at the man through her hazy vision. Pain spurned her throbbing
head, her hair
falling loosely over her shoulders. Biting back the tears she managed,
"Please......please don't hurt me." Erik glared at her. Tears were
forming
in the corners
of her eyes, she was clearly afraid of him now. What had he done? He
had
successfully
frightened another woman with his murderous advances. He shook his
head
feeling a
surge of self-hatred penetrate his cold heart. Regaining his composture
he
answered
half heartedly.
"I won't if you cooperate."
"What do you want from me?" Elissa though frightened, managed to sound
firm.
"Well......there are so many answers to that question.......what are
you
doing here
mademoiselle?"
"I came here by accident.......you have no right to do this.....let
me go
this instant!"
Elissa was beginning to sound frantic, Erik chuckled darkly.
"Everyone comes here by......accident."
"You'd be wise to let me go." He, whoever he was had no right to do
this.
"Such impertinence.......that could cost you your life down here."
She made no reply. Erik continued.
"I'd be wise would I and why pray tell is that?"
"My father will not stand for this he will have you hung."
"If your father wants to come down here and stand before the devil
in
hell.....then let
him." Elissa paled.
"Who.....who are you monsieur?"
"I ? You mean to tell me you don't know who I am.........I am the Opera
Ghost alias
the Phantom mademoiselle."
"Your.....your the Phantom.....my God."
"Thats usually everybody's reponse, just before I kill them." Elissa
gulped.
"Your a m....m....m........"
"You'll have to speak up my dear."
"Murderer."
"Oh yes, I have killed quite a lot of people it really is amazing what
one
can do with a
small piece of rope."
"Why don't kill me?"
"I can't.....I......you look too much like her."
"Like who?" Erik hesitated, wondering how much he should tell this
girl
about
Christine.
"Nobody."
"I thought that the Phantom was dead."
"He is or at least he was......but now........"
"Revenge?" Erik shot her a look .
"Its nothing to do with you." Elissa looked at him, her eyes wide with
dawning
comprehension.
"So if your not going to kill me, why did you bring me across the lake
with
you?"
"I hate meddling people and you were the one who entered my lair, I
don't
ask anyone
to come here, noone."
"I didn't mean to disturb you monsieur, I found the mechanism in the
mirror
and
well.....I......."
"Strange most people wouldn't give that mirror a second glance." As
if for
the first
time Erik noticed the bluey-purplish bruises that had become visible
on
Elissa's throat.
Now doubt from his own hand. It had always been a reflex action to
kill
people by
whatever means he saw fit, blood. Always blood. On his hands and on
his
accursed
soul.
"Did I do that?"
"Its nothing really."
"I have hurt you." He said not wanting to acknowledge Elissa's denial.
"I shall be fine....it will fade."
"Forgive me......."
"I already have."
"You'd forgive a murderer.......a man who could have killed you without
a
second
thought......I did that with my own hands."
"Whats your name.....your real name I mean?" Erik was startled at the
question, noone
had asked him that before not even Christine, he had told her.
"Why should you care?"
"Well I can hardly call you Monsieur le Phantome now can I?"
"Erik." He replied feebly.
"I'm Elissa."
"I know who you are."
"You do?" Her brow creased.
"I've been watching you......from the mirror in the dressing room........I
watch
everything......everyone." She noticed the bone white porcelain mask
resting
on his
face.
"May I ask you why you wear a mask?" Erik paused briefly before continuing,
he
would not go through the horror again, swallowing he continued,
"My face is.........is.......deformed.......from birth."
"That is why you live down here." Erik looked at her in surprise.
"Yes." Sensing discomfort in this topic, Elissa quickly changed it.
"It was you who sent the roses.....and the card."
"That is correct mademoiselle."
"I need no formality......if I am to call you Erik, then you must use
my
name."
"Did you like them.....the roses I mean."
"Oh yes, very much......thankyou."
"There's something else......."
"Yes Erik." He swallowed.
"I heard.......I heard you singing before......."
"Oh that, that was nothing." Erik spoke without thinking.
"It was quite beautiful." She looked at him, he realised what he had
just
said and hung
his head, almost shamefully.
"Forgive me I shouldn't have........"
"No, you do not need to ask my forgiveness Erik......its flattering
to know
someone
thinks about it that way." She blushed. Erik's face lit up for a brief
moment then
regained its usual cold stare.
"Don't you think so?" Erik was beginning to hear voices in his head.
"I'm not so sure.......i'm really more of a composer.......I love my
music.......more than
anything.......I could never give it up." She said lovingly.
"I could......teach you if you wanted." The voices in Erik's head grew
louder, Erik what
about your vow? You loved Christine and this is how you honour her
memory?
You
made a promise! That girl is not going to want to be taught by the
'Phantom
of the
Opera' for Gods sake! She'll tell the managers and they'll put a bullet
through your
head! Her reply stunned Erik.
"Oh would you......well I do have a maestro......but he's otherwise
preoccupied." What
was she doing had she gone completely mad, this man was a cold blooded
murderer
and a criminal to boot. He could just as easily kill her like he did
Buquet
or Piagni. The
idea of death made her shiver.
"Perhaps........." Those eyes were on her again, those electric blue
eyes
watching her
every move.
"Well......I better be going......could you tell me where to get out."
"There isn't a way." He said simply. She gaped.
"Pardon?"
"There's no way out of here unless......I let you."
"But.......but you have to let me go."
"Depends.....how do I know I can trust you......how do I know that
you
wouldn't run
screaming to the managers."
"You can trust me."
"Trust is something I have lived without for most of my life......why
should
you not
hesitate to betray me."
"I won't."
"Not even a monster like me."
"You are not a monster, you are just a cruelly mis-judged human being."
She
smiled at
him.
"I will visit your dressing room.......I await you there."
"Thankyou." To both of their surprise, Elissa leaned up and kissed
his good
cheek.
Erik wondered what had possessed her to do that. Seeing his expression
she
turned to
leave,
"Oh i'm sorry......I should go."
"Wait!" She turned around.
"Thankyou." He said solemnly. She nodded and following the directions
Erik
had
given her out of the Rue Scribe. As soon as her white form disappeared,
Erik
made his
way to the entrance of his home. What was wrong with teaching another
pupil,
surely
not even Christine could begrudge him that. He most certainly wouldn't
fall
in love
again.
* * * * *
Elissa hurried through the passage ways to meet her father, no doubt
he
would be
furious with her for disappearing like that and just before dinner
aswell.
But she had met Erik. He seemed entirely different from what the other
ballet girls had
said of him. His head was that of a dead man's......well she'd only
seen
part of his face
and had to admit that he was quite handsome but then again what lay
beneath
the mask
was another story. Elissa saw her father waiting outside her dressing
room.
"Where in God's name have you been?"
"I was......rehearsing."
"Elissa......I told you about dinner did I not."
"Yes father......but I forgot about the time and well I........"
"Honestly you spend more time rehearsing than anyone i've ever known."
She laughed.
"Did mother used to spend a long time rehearsing?" His eyes darkened
as she
mentioned her mother.
"She was a Prima Donna what would you expect?" The acidic tone to his
voice
stopped her from asking any more questions.
"Come along Elissa don't drag your feet." Her father took her arm sharply.
"What went on here......at the opera.......with the.......Phantom?"
"The Phantom.......how do you know about the Phantom?"
"I heard some rumours and........"
"I don't know anything about the Phantom....nothing happened here.......he
never
existed."
"But......."
"He never existed Elissa don't surround yourself with meaningless ghost
stories."
But he does I spoke to him, thought Elissa to herself.
Raoul wiped his forehead, how had Elissa found out about the Phantom?
Could
he still
live? No that was impossible, the Phantom was dead, gone. It was all
behind
him now,
Christine's death.....no point dwelling on the past.
For the next six weeks Erik taught Elissa to sing. She looked forward
to
their evening
lessons. In the morning she would take piano with Pierre and in the
evening
voice with
Erik. Erik had a great musical talent despite his Phantom title and
his
voice could
charm the angels down from heaven.
Pierre however was intent on her being the perfectionist.
Most of the time he got on her nerves and Erik would regulary listen
to her
problems
and the days stresses. Perhaps that was why she liked Erik over Pierre.
Maybe she
even cared for him, as one might do a lover. She dashed the thought
from her
mind.
* * * * *
Erik stroked the staves of music, something beautiful of his. Elissa
had
taken his mind
off Christine for awhile but now she was absent it all came flooding
back.
The
memories. No! He would not think about it all again, torture himself
once
more.
Elissa is new pupil. A pupil. How nice to teach someone once again.
He had
missed his
lessons with Christine but now someone would know again the beauty
of his
music.
Elissa. He practised rolling the word of the tip of his tongue. Strange
how
he had not
noticed her before. She was new to the company, he knew that but there
was
so much
more he wanted to know about her. In a way she was strangely attractive,
maybe even
beautiful. He didn't want to admit that he was already getting quite
attached to her.
That was unthinkable even for him. Christine had been his only love.
He
would never
love again he was sure of it. No woman alive would want him. Elissa
must
never see
his face, he thought, too many people had seen and died because of
it.
* * * * *
Elissa, wondered how he could live underground like that. Didn't he
crave
sunlight?
She thought about his mask, he must be very unhappy. Great the last
thing he
needed
from her was pity. It seemed everyone had given him pity. She detected
a
yearning to
live like anyone else, to have a normal life. Something which he hadn't
even
considered.
Inside Elissa did pity him, not because of his face but because he
wanted to
be like
anyone else. But he was still the Phantom, a murderer and a criminal.
He
could easily
kill her without a second thought. A nagging thought at the back of
her
mind, warned
her that he was dangerous, and liable to kill but she pushed away.
Her
concern now
was only to save himself from himself as it were. She hoped she would
be
able to reach
the man, behind the mask.
* * * * *
Elissa hurried down the corridor, she was late for rehearsal. No doubt
Pierre would be
furious with her. She had been so wrapped up in her thoughts about
her next
visit to
Erik that she had forgotten the time. As she anticipated, Pierre was
there
tapping his
foot impatiently, his face flushed a deep scarlet.
"Elissa, your 15 minutes late, we were due to start over half an hour
ago!"
"Surely you can manage without me for a few minutes."
"I can't keep teaching you like this.......you are always late or you
have
your head in
the clouds......what has gotten into you lately?"
"Nothing and i've decided that I no longer need you to teach me."
"What?"
"You heard me, I want you to quit as my maestro."
"I will do no such thing."
"Why can't you understand that I don't want to be to taught by you
any
longer?"
"Your father employed me to teach you to sing and so I shall."
"No! You won't."
"Yes I will." She was aware that Pierre was actually shaking her now.
"Let go of me!"
"Listen to yourself, will you."
"I said let go of me!"
"Elissa, I am not only your teacher but your fiancee......listen to
me!"
"My fiancee?"
"Well......I.......I........"
"When was this decided?"
"Your father said so himself."
"It is no business of my father whom I marry."
"Don't you love me?"
"Yes.......no........maybe....."
"Its all right you don't have to answer now we have plenty of time
to get to
know each
other."
"We?"
"You and I both know that its right."
"Right? Who are you to say what is right."
"Elissa."
"Let go of me Dammit!"
"Not until you come to your senses!"
"Stop it Pierre!" Suddenly one of the overhead lights that illuminated
the
stage
shattered like porcelain sending shards of glass everywhere. Elissa
instinctively covered
her head with her hands and ducked out of the way. Unfortunately Pierre
was
not so
lucky. He screeched in pain as fairly large piece buried itself in
his arm.
Thick crimson
blood trickled from his open wound. His shirt becoming bloody. Elissa
had a
few cuts
to her arm but nothing serious, she bent over Pierre's form blood pouring
from his
recent injury. The ugly shard of glass, which was embedded deep in
the flesh
of his
arm, was the cause of the pain, she had to get a doctor. There was
noone
around. She
looked up to where the light had once hung. A dark shadow almost bat-like
glided
over the top. Oh no, it can't be she thought.
* * * * *
Erik was quite pleased that the light that had come down on cue.Of course
he
would
never have hurt Elissa for the world, but the boy. He was another matter.
A
sharp
piece of glass had obviously hit him and Elissa had ducked out of the
way.
Perfect.
Still she had a few cuts to her forehead. Damn he thought he never
wanted to
hurt her.
The boy was on the floor writhing in agony and Elissa had torn off
one of
her
petticoats to soak up the blood. There would be more to come.
* * * * *
Elissa had a sickly feeling in her stomach. Had Erik done something
with the
light? She
had heard stories of the Phantom. He was a dark sinister man who lived
in
the opera,
murdering, stealing. He was the one who had killed the principal tenor
Ubaldo Piangi
and not to mention the stage hand Joseph Buquet. Chaos had ensured
in the
opera
when the famous Louis xii chandelier had come down on the house crushing
several
people to death and injuring many more. He had driven Carlotta insane
with
grief, so
much so that she took her own life and had kept the managers on their
toes.
Was he
capable of murdering her and Pierre? Probably, there seemed no limit
to what
the man
could do.
* * * * *
"Elissa are you all right?"
"Fine father."
"They said one of the cables came lose on a stage light, is that so?"
"Yes father it did, it was awful."
"That part of the theatre has been deserted for years what were you
thinking?"
"I'm sorry father."
"Pierre is in a severe state of shock and is having a particularly
painful
operation to
remove that piece of glass and yet you come out unharmed."
"There must be a guardian angel watching over me."
"An angel indeed." Raoul took a long pensive look around the theatre
before
ushering
Elissa into the main foyer.
Erik hissed, the clouds of Elissa and Raoul's conversation hung thickly
in
the air like
acid.
So she was the daughter of his most hated rival.
Above Erik watched the conversation between none other than the Vicomte
de
Changy and Elissa, he was still partly reeling from shock himself.
Christine's daughter!
He remembered their little encounter in the labyrinth. Now he understood
why
he had
thought her for a brief moment that she was his beloved. After all
these
years, the child
had come back to the opera. He would make sure that he would not lose
her
again.
Even if that meant killing her so-called 'fiancee'.
* * * * *
Madame Meg Giry rushed down the hallway of the Paris opera house turning
a
corner
she came face to face with Erik who was also making in a hurried direction
to his lair.
"Please monsieur there has been enough blood split to last a lifetime.....no
more!"
"Is that what you think of me? You think i'd harm my most precious
jewel?"
"I don't know what to think anymore."
"Let me pass Madame.....you of all people do not want to bring my wrath
upon
yourself!"
"Erik wait! I know that you shattered that light." Erik's control on
his
fury slipped.
"And just who do think you going to tell? You not going to tell anyone,
do I
make
myself clear?" She stepped back terrified his fury might be unleashed
on
her.
"Very monsieur."
"Good."
"She could have been killed you know and Pierre with her.......he has
a
nasty wound
Erik."
"Its regrettable that I didn't try to kill him sooner."
"Wretched man! Leave Elissa de Changy alone......she has a life.......a
life
that does not
need your interference."
"Why do you condemn me Madame.......I have lived without knowing the
joys of
friendship......comfort or.......love.......and yet when I seek them
iam
refused."
"I am sorry for your past Erik, but you have a choice now......you
can leave
her to get
on with her life.......she does not need you."
"But I need her.......I need something in my life to live for!" With
that he
pushed her
aside and stormed angrily off down the hall.
Meg sighed, would he ever learn?
* * * * *
Elissa sat at her dressing table, brushing her hair. She looked across
at
the mirror, she
knew Erik was watching her. At knock at the door interrupted her thoughts.
"Come in." she said softly.
Pierre entered his arm wrapped tightly in a bandage.
"Oh Pierre........." She touched his arm forgetting that Erik was behind
the
mirror.
"I'm fine, I should be more worried about you."
"You shouldn't be, I only have a few cuts to my forehead nothing serious."
"I brought these for you." He produced a bouquet of pink roses.
"Oh you shouldn't have."
"I know but they match your beauty." She blushed.
"I must put them in water."
Erik clenched his fists behind the mirror, how dare he give her roses!
And
she had
blushed, blushed under that young fools gaze. Erik hissed. He wouldn't
live
long
enough to return her affection. She knew he was there. But she had
excepted
the boy's
charm, his gifts. Erik resisted the temptation to jump out of his hiding
place and
strangle him there and then, but for Elissa's sake he restrained himself.
He
caught the
last of the conversation.
"I'll see you tomorrow at rehearsal then."
"Fine, goodnight Pierre."
"Goodnight Elissa."
And then he was gone. She shut the door. Making her way toward the
mirror,
she
turned it on its pivot and pushed it inwards. Erik stood there just
as she
had
anticipated, he simply stared at her for a moment then spoke,
"I trust that the boy is gone."
"Yes, he's gone."
"Good."Erik eyed the roses leaning in the corner.
"You like roses." This was not a question, merely a command.
"I thought it was thoughtful of Pierre actually."
"Really?"
"Yes, they are quite beautiful."
"Then let us see how beautiful they are when they burn!" He lunged
forward
grabbed
the roses and threw them into the fire grate, they hissed and shrivelled
turning black as
soon as they came into contact with the hot coals. The faint smell
of
charring lingered
in the air.
"Oh." Elissa fell on her knees and tried as best as she to savour the
petals, finding in
her dismay that they turned to ash. She scalded her wrist and gave
a sharp
cry of pain.
Erik watched her blow on her wound in an attempt to cool it.
"Perhaps I can be of some assistance."
"Really, you don't need to.........." Erik took her hand in his and
after a
close
examination of the burn, brought her wrist to his lips, brushing the
scald
ever so
slightly.
Elissa looked down in surprise, Erik did not relese her hand, nor remove
his
lips from
the scald. At last after a long and awkward silence Erik released her
hand.
She pulled
away instinctively.
"I have offended you.....I do.....apologise."
She gazed at the pile of ash that had once been her roses.
"You dropped that light on us, didn't you!" Her voice was accusing.
"On him." Erik corrected.
"You could have killed us both."
"I see you are unhurt."
"Thats not the point........."
"Oh I beg to differ.....you see all i really wanted to do was hurt
him.....not you."
"But why?"
"He.....he was going to be your finacee."
"You were listening in on our conversation?"
"You seem to forget that I see everything."
"Does that include spying on people."
"You ought to be careful how you address me."
"Whoever you are you have absolutely no right to talk to me like that."
"Oh I can my dear and I will."
"I am allowed to see who I please, you do not control me."
"Indeed." There was another silence. Erik figeted with the hem of his
cape.
After a long while Elissa took sat down at the piano and began to play.
She
played a
song which dove deep into Erik's heart, the soft and gentle melodie
soothing
his soul.
She began to hum as she did so, her voice pentrating Erik's heart.
Feelings
which had
remained dormant after Christine's death flooded back to him. What
were
these
feelings? Love. No it couldn't be. Love. He loved Elissa. Suddenly
it was
clear to him.
He loved her, just as he had Christine. He had a strong urge to protect
her,
that much
was clear, but love? Anyway, he chided himself, the possibility of
Elissa
feeling
affection for him was remote if any. As soon as she looked upon his
face she
would
run screaming from him. His face. Damn his infection. Damn it.
"Erik?"
"My dear child, have you any idea how beautiful you are." She blushed.
"Thankyou Erik but i'm plain compared to the other girls in the company."
"Plain? I will not hear you calling yourself plain, you are very beautiful."
He touched
her cheek lightly. She dropped her gaze again.
"Come."
"Where are we going?"
"My home."
"Erik?"
"Come to me my angel." His voice called her it was hypnotic and inviting.
She took
hold of his arm.
"Come angel, come to me." She followed him like a lost lamb. Erik led
her
through the
mirror and she leaned her head on his shoulder.He sighed softly. So
this was
what it
was like to love again.
* * * * *
Elissa awoke been rather alarmed at the fact that there was no sun streaming
through
the windows. Panicking she tried to remember where she was.
Of course. She was five stories below the Opera, no wonder daylight
couldn't
be seen
down here.
Sitting up she realised that she was in a lavish, mahogany, curtained
bed
with drapes of
crushed red velvet. The bed its self had satin sheets and pillow cases.
It
was fit for a
Queen.
Although she was accustomed to to quite luxurious accommodation being
the
Vicomte's daughter she was never allowed to have anything like this.
Beautiful she thought.
She noticed that on the dressing table there stood a familiar red ink
handwritten note, it
read,
My dear Elissa,
You are perfectly safe here, you will find adequate
dresses in the
amoire along with everything else you may need.
Please feel free to make yourself at home, I trust this meets with
your
approval.
Yours,
Erik.
How thoughtful of him thought Elissa. He really isn't as bad as everyone
makes out.
Still, she was in the Phantom's house underneath the Opera and hadn't
the
ballet girls,
said that the Phantom was a murderer, a killer.
And yet he had a caring compassionate, side to him. If he was going
to kill
her already,
he would have done so the minute she had entered his home.
He had treated her well enough, maybe even more than enough.
She got up and made her way over to the amoire.
For a ghost he seemed to live well enough, perhaps the managers were
unfair
with
their accusations.
She dressed and decided to take a look around.
It was the strangest thing she'd ever encoutered before.
She fingered the locket around her neck. It was her mother's, her father
had
enclosed a
picture of her inside it.
Elissa thought her mother very beautiful, perhaps that was why her
father
had married
her.
A creak in the wall started her from reverie. The wall opened like
a door to
reveal Erik
who looked generally surprised to see her.
"Good morning Elissa, I trust you slept well."
"Yes, thankyou Erik."
Erik noticed the locket around her neck, strange he hadn't seen her
wearing
it before.
"May I."
"Yes, of course."
She slipped off her neck and handed it to Erik.
He worked at the clasp with his fingers and eventually opened it to
reveal a
picture
of.....it couldn't be......could it, a picture of Christine.
"She was my mother, she died when I was very young her name was-."
"Christine."
"Yes how did you know?"
"I knew her once, she was my pupil, my solace."
"Go on."
And so Erik began to weave the tale of how he had first heard Christine's
voice,
trained her to be a Prima Donna and eventually fallen in love with
her. He
told her of
the chandelier, the deaths of the stage-hand Buquet and the principal
tenor
Ubaldo
Piangi and the utter betrayel he felt when she chose Raoul over him,
right
up the
moment years ago when he saw her again for the last time.
Elissa listened wide-eyed to the story and was not shocked by it at
all.
When he had finished she asked,
"How did my mother die?"
"I can't tell you that.......I can't......."
"Tell me." Erik sighed wearily and began to tell her of that fatal
moment
all those years
ago, Christine had annouced her love for him and tryed to divorce Raoul.
Raoul of
course would not hear of it and flew into such a rage that he followed
Christine to the
lair. He had tryed to kill Erik but only suceeded in killing Christine
instead, she had
died in his arms. Raoul had then snatched baby Elissa from her cradle
and
Erik never
saw the pair again until now......
"My father....my father killed her."
"I would believe so."
"Well I don't believe you."
"Believe what you will, it is no concern of mine."
"You loved her deeply didn't you? More than my father ever did."
"Yes, I was her angel for a short while and now she truly is an angel."
"I suppose she is."
"You look very much like her you know."
"Thats why you spared my life when I came down here."
"Yes, you reminded my of her, I couldn't bear to hurt you."
"Below the Phantom exterior Erik, I believe you are a good man."
"Not a man, a monster."
"Your not a monster, otherwise you would not have felt what you did
for my
mother."
"How can you say that.....you don't know what lies beneath this mask."
"Then show me, show me you face without fear."
"I cannot."
"Erik I swear to you, it will not bother me."
"Everyone I have ever encountered said that, only to see that it is
not a
man that lies
beneath this mask but a monster."
"I am not everyone.....please Erik, my mother was not repulsed by your
face."
"Not at the end no, and I beg your pardon mademoiselle.......but you
are not
your
mother."
"Exactly, the point i'm trying to make Erik."
"Very well, I suppose its unavoidable."
He reached for the lip of his mask, squeezing his eyes tightly shut.
He
pulled it off his
face and waited for a tremoulous scream of horror from Elissa. It did
not
come.
Elissa studied his face hiding a smile, he was not a creature of nightmares
as he
suspected but a man with a scarred face, that was all she saw. To think
that
her mother
could have been so shallow made her furious, the man had already gone
through
enough suffering, he didn't need her to run from him as well.
Yes, it was scarred and yes it was unevenly matched with the other
side of
his face but
all the ballet girls and the rumors had made out like this man was
death
itself.
Elissa couldn't blame him for his terrible temper.
"Erik, you can open your eyes." She said gently .
Cautiously Erik opened his eyes wondering if Elissa had masked her
terror
like
Christine had in the early days. Her face was perfectly normal. Their
was no
look of
terror, no screaming, just Elissa.
"You......you......aren't repulsed."
"Oh don't be silly Erik, you face is scarred yes but all I see is the
man
underneath, can't
you see that?" Erik shifted his gaze.
"My God, you can't can you?"
"No."
"Erik, you face truly doesn't bother me."
"Truly Elissa?"
"Yes, Erik."
"I was.....wondering if you would like to......" Erik swallowed.
"Yes."
"If you would give me the pleasure of accompanying you to the Bal de
Masque."
"I'd be honoured Erik."
* * * * *
An hour later and Elissa was trying on different coustumes for the masque.
"How about this one?" She said holding up a fairy outfit complete with
wand
and
wings.
"Oh really Elissa, every other girl at the masque will be dressed as
a
fairy." Annabel
stated.
"Well what do you suggest?"
"Go for something unique, something different."
"What are you going as?"
"Oh I don't know a star perhaps." Elissa burst out laughing.
"A star, now really Annabel thats too much."
"Fine then, I won't chose the star, how about a princess or a ballerina."
A princess, just like Annabel to go as a princess.
"Who are you chosing for Annabel yourself or every other man at the
ball!"
"Well I don't see you chasing after any men Elissa."
"Maybe I don't want a man in my life just yet."
"Oh come on, Elissa the whole ballet chorous has seen how Pierre follows
you
around."
"I already have an escort."
"Oh and who might that be?"
"No one you know."
"Really?" Annabel arched her eyebrows, the two burst out laughing.
"So what are you going as Elissa?"
"A peacock." Perfect Elissa thought a peacock. A graceful and mysterious
bird. Perfect
for her.
She held up the blue satin gown with attached peacock feathers lining
it and
a beautiful
matching head dress.
"Oh Elissa thats breath-taking." Annabel gasped.
"And you Annabel."
"A noble woman." She fingered the long pink gown with red bows at its
bodice.
"Oh Annabel, you'll look wonderful."
"I sure you'll turn a few heads too Elissa." The girls laughed again
and
went to help
with the preparations for the ball.
* * * * *
Elissa loved balls. The swirling reds, the golden yellows the deepest
blues.
She sat on a chair humming along to the music pleasantly. Pierre drew
himself away
from the long train of people who evidently had nothing better to do
than
follow him
around.
"Mademoiselle, may I have the honour of this dance?"
"I'm sorry Pierre, I waiting for someone."
"Surely this someone knows better than to keep a lady of your beauty
waiting."
"Nevertheless Pierre I should like to wait till they arrive."
"Well if you change your mind, you know where to find me." He bent
to kiss
her
cheek, but instead she offered him her hand.
Where was Erik? He had promised to come hadn't he. As the music drew
to its
extravagant climax a figure descended the stairs. Shrouded head to
foot in
black, Erik
drew down the stairs using dreadful wooden steps. They were a few cries
of
terror
from the dance floor and the dancers skitted away like mice. The sea
of
colourful
costumes drew back as he crossed the floor, his penetrating gaze only
coming
to rest
when it found its pray.
Elissa stood shakily by Pierre's side, not even daring to breathe.
Erik
approached
slowly silently cursing the boy who stood wearily by Elissa's side.
Pierre's hand shot out in an effort to restrain Erik from coming any
closer.
Erik seized his rival's wrist with a touch that seemed to burn Pierre's
flesh on instant
contact. Pierre gave a sudden and unexpected gasp of pain. Giving
Erik the
time he
needed to confront Elissa.
"My dear." He gave her his hand, she took it in a half trance like
way.
Pierre gave a
gasp of fury and made a lunge for Elissa. Erik neatly drew her away
from him
like one
might do a silent breeze.
"May I have the honour of this dance mademoiselle?"
"Why certainly monsieur."
Erik took her hands and lead her into a waltz. She was graceful dancer
Erik
could tell
from the way she moved. She was resting her head now on his shoulder
and
Erik held
her more firmly.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the Vicomte. Some little ballet
rat
had
probably run off to tell him. The Vicomte stared open mouthed agog.
"Father?"
"Why Monsieur le Vicomte.......your daughter is truly very
beautiful.......much like her
mother."
"You wretched monster, leave her alone this instant!"
"Monsieur permit me to say goodbye before I depart."
Before either Elissa or Raoul could speak Erik brought his mouth
down on
Elissa's
lips, kissing her with savage intensity. Raoul and Pierre gave a yell
of
fury, but before
either of them could get close to Erik he wrapped his cloak around
himself
and
disappeared right before their very eyes.
Elissa took a moment to compose herself and fainted dead away, Pierre
made a
rush
toward her catching her in his arms.
"Bring me the doctor!"
"But monsieur if the ghost is at large....."
"BRING HIM TO ME!"
* * * * *
Elissa woke much later to find herself in the arms of Pierre. His face
was
creased with
concern.
"Where am I?"
"Your here with me."
"No, I musn't be here, I need to see Erik......where is Erik?"
But her cries fell on deaf ears. Everything passed her in a blur.
Pierre rushed her though the maze of passages in the hope of finding
a
doctor.
It was growing incresingly dark to try and see where he was going,
he gently
laid
Elissa down and paused to pick up his latern.
"It won't be long now Elissa everythings going to be-"
He stopped and turned around. Sure enough the masked man that he had
seen
only
moments before had returned his golden eyes flaring dangerously.
Elissa's small but fragile body was wrapped within the folds of his
Opera
cape.
"Leave her alone you fiend!" Pierre yelled at him.
Erik chuckled at him.
"You monsieur would do well to heed the advice of the others and leave
this
girl alone;
Elissa de Changy belongs to me......and I intend to make her my wife."
"Your wife! She wouldn't consent to-"
"She will consent I will make sure of that."
"You bas**rd!" Pierre screamed.
Erik smiled,
"Do tell the Vicomte that if he wishes to attend his daughter's wedding
mass, he will
meet me at the lake......i'm sure that he knows the way."
With a sweep of his cape Erik and Elissa were gone leaving Pierre to
stumble
back to
Raoul.
* * * * *
"HE DID WHAT!" The Vicomte de Changy boomed at the top of his voice.
"Well....he....er is going to make your daughter give herself in marriage
to
him."
"Never, as her father I refuse consent."
"But monsieur-"
"I will go to the lake and finish this once and for all;he killed Christine
he will not take
my daughter!"
Erik getly laid Elissa on his bed. She stirred and he briefly considered
his
options.
Either he married her by force;not a pleasent thing to do or he asked
for
her consent.
"Elissa, angel, wake up."
"Erik, what am I doing here?"
"Come you must change."
"Change? What are you talking about Erik?"
"For your wedding?"
"Wedding.....I don't understand?"
"For your marriage to me." He felt the words roll of his tongue helplessly.
"You? Marry you? This is so confusing.....my head......"
Erik helped her up.
"Elissa I love you, God knows, i've always loved you........I want
you to be
my wife."
"Erik what-"
"Please.....I don't want to argue, I don't want to force you......but
I love
you too much
to let you you go."
The warning bell sounded indicating intruders in Erik's lair.
"Ah, here come our guests."
"Guests?"
"Yes, your father will be undoubtably very happy to see our union."
He pulled her into his arms and opened a secret panel in the wall,
the
Vicomte entered
the room and the panel closed behind him.
"Elissa!"
"Father!"
"My God, what has he done to you?"
"Monsieur I believe i haven't introduced you to my wife."
"Your.....your....wife......my God you've corrupted her like you corrupted
Christine."
"Father please, I think I-"
"No! No! No! You do think nothing, i am your father you will obey me!"
"But I love him father." She burst out.
"You, you love him-"
"You lying bitch!" Screamed Pierre who lunged out of the darkness straight
for Elissa,
going for her throat.
"Elissa!" Erik and Raoul both cried out in unison.
Pierre pulled out a small siver tinted dagger, meaning to slash Elissa's
throat. Erik
dived on Pierre sending the dagger sprawling across the floor, he dragged
Elissa's body
away from him and took her into his arms, activating the latch on the
secret
door in the
wall. Raoul saw Erik and shouted,
"Save her.......goodbye Elissa.....papa loves you!" He dived onto Pierre
who
hastily
grabbed the dagger.
"If I can't have her no one will!" Pierre screamed and thrust the dagger
into Raoul's
chest.
"No father!" Elissa tried to reach Raoul but Erik hauled her back.
With the last ounce of his strength Raoul pulled out the pistol he
intended
to kill Erik
with and fired at Pierre, who doubled bleeding to death just as Raoul
keeled
over
dying.
"Theres nothing you can do." Erik said softly.
"No, father.....no......" She wept into Erik's cape.
All that could be heard over the carnage that took place that day was
Elissa's weeping
and the moans of pain that followed.
* * * * *
Elissa placed a solitary crimson rose on her father's coffin. He was
buried
next to his
brother Phillipe and the rest of the Changy line. Elissa wiped the
tears
from her face
and pulled the black lace veil over her head. All she had in the world
was
Erik now, the
death of her father had set her free.
She now knew the truth about the Phantom of the Opera, he was not a
ghost
nor an
angel but a man. A man she would love until the end of time.
* Fini *
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