She looked as if she was about to faint, so I took her by the arm and sat her on the divan, right where she always sat. I took the bag of keys from my pocket and tossed it from one hand to the other as I began instructing her.
“Perhaps you should stay seated, my dear, while I read through the script for you. Remember this little bag of strange keys that opened those black boxes? Well, now they’ll do more than what they did in that first scene. You’ll see the complete act . . . Well, again, that depends on you.”
I dumped them out on the mantle, picked out the key to the scorpion’s box, unlocked it, and removed it from the brass figure.
“Look at the intricate workmanship on this piece of art. You can see it much better now that it’s released from its prison. Remember when I told you I had to keep my little friend in here because he’s so dangerous? And do you remember why he’s dangerous?”
She barely mouthed, “Gunpowder.”
“Hmm. Perhaps—perhaps not. I’m not sure now. They’ve been in there so long. Perhaps I’m remembering wrong. Perhaps the scorpion isn’t the dangerous one. Hmm. Well, a scorpion is dangerous if you’re stung by one. Have you ever been stung by a scorpion, Christine? No, there’s no way you could have been stung by one.
“You’ve led a life of protection, haven’t you? First your father, and then Madame Valerius, and then me, and we can’t forget about your young de Chagny, now, can we? Protected? Yes. I’m quite sure you’ve never had to outwit a scorpion.”
My questions kept flying at her, but she barely responded to any of them; in fact, I wasn’t certain she was hearing me most of the time. She was nearly as white as her dress, and she looked as if she was going to topple over at any moment. I might have felt compassion for her, but my anger was much too great to feel anything, so I kept up with my taunts.
“Well, let me tell you that its sting is most unpleasant, most unpleasant indeed. It can even kill you, so it’s very dangerous, and you must always stay on your guard. When I think about how dangerous it is, I think perhaps it’s the scorpion that’s connected to the gunpowder.” I shook my head. “If I could only remember.
“Anyway, let’s think about this one,” I said as I unlocked the other box. “If you can remember, this box holds a rather unthreatening creature—a grasshopper. Aha, but a grasshopper can jump very high, now can’t it? Very high indeed. But, it doesn’t sting, it only jumps, so why the box and key?
“I wonder what I was thinking. Was I protecting the grasshopper from the scorpion or was I protecting the scorpion from the grasshopper? Perhaps the grasshopper could jump away and lead the scorpion to its death in the fire below. Is that it? Do you think that’s it, Christine?”
She stared at me, blankly, while I replaced the keys in the bag and laid it on the mantle; then I continued, “My, my, decisions, decisions. I know decisions aren’t your forte, my dear, but you need to make one soon. I gave you two weeks to make your last decision, but this time you’ll only have 24 hours.”
I motioned to the floor clock in the corner and rephrased my statement. “Actually, you have less than 24 hours. I’ll give you until 11 tomorrow night to make your final decision. Oh, I almost forgot to tell you what your choices are—how forgetful of me. Well, let’s see now. On the one hand, you’ll become Erik’s wife for real, and we’ll live happily ever after. Won’t that be nice?” I sneered through a sinister smile. Then I lost the smile, looked directly into her eyes, and nearly growled. “But, on the other hand, if you won’t become his wife, then you’ll become no one’s.”
With that threat, I got a reaction out of her. She took a deep breath, shook her head, and I smiled at her.
“Oh, rather harsh, you say? Perhaps, but then life can be harsh, my dear, or haven’t you heard that yet? Don’t fear though, I’ve tried to make this decision much easier for you, my sweet Christine. The last choice you had to make put you through such turmoil, and it was only between two men. Well, this one should be easier for you, my dear precious Christine. I’ve made sure of that.”
I sat on the coffee table in front of her and reached for her hand, only to have her pull her entire body away from me. I sighed and took her hand anyway.
“What? No thank you, Erik? Are you not going to thank me for my consideration of your feelings? Well, never mind. I’m most used to being unappreciated, but I’ll explain my efforts anyway.”
I got up and sat in my chair, crossing my ankle over my knee. “By 11 tomorrow night, you’ll either be my wife, willingly, I might add, or you’ll die. Does that make it easier for you? Well, if not, then let me up the ante a bit. If you die, so will thousands of others. Oh, that got your attention now, didn’t it?
“Yes, Christine, were you not the least bit curious to know why I gave you until 11 tomorrow night? Think, my dear, when is the opera house filled with the most people? Oh, the light is getting brighter now, isn’t it?”
I got up and started walking slowly around the room, listening to the beginning of her soft sobs. I ran my fingers over the walls and a few fixtures as I went.
“This place has served me well in my life, and I’m sure it’ll also serve me well in my death.”
I turned and looked at her soberly. Her face was streaked with tears, and the fright in her eyes increased with each word of explanation I gave her. I went back to the fireplace before I continued my derision.
“But, then, let’s not jump ahead of the script. Perhaps you’ll choose this poor Erik over death, the death of thousands.” I walked over to her again and took her hand. “Such a small hand to hold the fate of so many people. Such a small and delicate hand.”
I turned and started toward my music room, and then I turned quickly back toward her. “Oh, I almost forgot. There’s one other small detail I should mention. There’s a slight chance—well, I guess I should say a 50-50 chance, if you decide not to marry this fine dashing man before you, that you’ll not die, and neither will the thousands above us. But, then again, that’s going to mean you have to make yet another decision.”
I went back to the mantle and put a hand on each of the brass figures. “Our little friends here will be the final judges to decide what will happen to us if you refuse me.” I tried to move the scorpion with my finger for effect. “You see they’re firmly placed here so they’ll not fall off and so they can’t be moved easily, but they can be moved or turned, I assure you.
“When they’re turned, they know it’s their cue to start their part in this little drama we’re involved in. The grasshopper might jump far away from the scorpion and be free or the scorpion might sting the grasshopper and it will die or the grasshopper might lead the scorpion to both of their deaths in the fire below. The choice to have them jump or sting is yours. You can direct the players at will. You can turn the grasshopper or the scorpion and then watch what happens, the choice is yours.
“But, keep in mind, this is a serious decision, much more serious than the last one you were trying to make. One of these small innocent creatures will set us all free to move on through our lives the way we wish, and the other will bring our last act to a conclusion in a thunderous instant. We’ll die and be buried all in the same move. Which will it be, my dear—the grasshopper or the scorpion?”
I turned and headed back to my music room, sighing deeply. “I feel a need to compose, my sweet. I’m nearly finished with Don Juan Triumphant, and I want it finished before you make your final decision.”
I put my hand on the knob, and she stopped me with her wavering voice. “Erik, please don’t do this.”
I didn’t feel a need to compose. I felt a need to leave her sad eyes, to leave the sound of her pleading voice that easily made its way to my guarded heart. I squeezed my eyes tightly and slowly looked back at her.
“It doesn’t have to be this way, Christine,” I said softly. “All you have to do is tear up this script right now. Tell me you love me. Take me by the hand and lead me to your room. I’ll unlock the door for you if your intention is to giv
e me my first kiss. Give me my first kiss and agree to marry me, and I’ll put my little creatures back in their ebony boxes. Then we can leave this place of death and live on in peace. No one will die with that ending, Christine.”
I gave her a moment to answer, and, when she lowered her head without an answer, I continued, “Very well, my dear. The sands of time are sifting through your delicate fingers. I’ll leave you alone to contemplate our fate. But, if you make your decision soon, there’ll be no need to put either of us through the torture of waiting out the full amount of time. Come to me if you wish. Come to me if you make your decision.”
I waited another moment for her to respond and then left the room. I closed my music room door and lowered myself into the stuffed chair, the one spot Christine enjoyed the most. She said it was comforting to her, and she was right. It was a comforting place, but not right then.
My feelings were swaying like the pendulum in my floor clock, and, just like those pendulums in the clock tower in Persia, they ticked away toward either destruction or peace. And, just like that time in Persia, I was the only one who knew exactly what lay ahead and had the power to control the outcome. But, one more time, it was the decision of someone else that would determine the lives of many.
I laid my head back and gazed around my music room, while fighting to maintain my vexation for that woman I loved and for the entire world. For so long in my life, I carried the hope of living in an opera house with music surrounding me continually. But right then I wanted nothing to do with it, because, along with an opera and music, would be thoughts of Christine.
So I no longer wanted to sit in Box Five and watch the action on the stage. I didn’t want to see the colorful garments of the many ladies escorted by their aristocratic suitors. I wanted nothing to do with them. They served only one purpose—a continual reminder about what I’d lost—Christine.
I sighed, closed my eyes, and pressed my fingertips against my forehead. Why, oh why did I allow someone into my heart? Why? How stupid could I be? I glared at the wall separating us. Christine, you Delilah. You stripped me of my power. How could you leave me alone like this? How could you do this to me, you heartless tramp?
With sufficient anger replacing my moments of weakness, I went back to the drawing room, preparing to taunt her further. But my tormenting thoughts were interrupted when I walked in on an unexpected scene. She was sitting on the hearth by the fireplace, slumped over, sobbing, and holding her face in her hands.
“Oh, you sob so well and so easily, my dear,” I sneered while walking toward her. “Perhaps I trained you too well. There are other emotions to express, you know, such as the glee of a maiden on her wedding day. Should I instruct you personally in how to convey that passion?”
When I reached her, I leaned down and lifted her face up to me. I was ready to tell her she was a beautiful bride when the blood on her forehead silenced my tongue. I was stunned and had to take a moment to understand what had happened.
The right side of her forehead was badly scraped, swelling, and bleeding. I could tell it wasn’t a fall that had caused it. So when I spotted some blood on the stones on the fireplace at the same level as her head, I knew she’d done it to herself. She would rather kill herself than to give me my first kiss. That didn’t give me much hope for the hours ahead. However, I’d had little hope to begin with.
I went down on one knee and touched the blood traveling down her forehead and across her tear-streaked cheeks. She lowered her head again, and I closed my eyes tightly, questioning what I was doing.
“Christine, forgive me. Please look at me.” She didn’t look up, so I continued, “I know there’s something between us. I know it. I can sense it, and I know you feel it also. I’ve seen it in your eyes. Please look past this face. Please see me for who I am—a man in love. Just a man, Christine. I’m not a monster, not a genius, not an angel, just a man. Look at me, Christine, and please see me. I’ll do anything you ask of me. I’ll go anywhere you ask. Just see me and love me.”
She looked at me, and I searched her eyes, trying to understand her continual emotional changes. Then it became clear to me. She also was being torn between contradicting feelings, just as I’d been. What she saw with her eyes was telling her mind one thing, that the man before her was some sort of monster, but what she was feeling with her heart was telling her another, that the man in front of her was someone she cared for. Those two emotions were so foreign to each other that they confused her.
She turned her face from me, and I frowned, once more being torn between pity and hatred. Unfortunately, it was my hatred that won that battle, and I easily began taunting her again.
“My dear, what has happened? Have you injured yourself? And on our wedding day? What a shame—what a shame. Oh! Look at your pure white dress now damaged with your blood.”
I lifted her to her feet, walked away from her, and then turned back. “My poor sweet bride. Were you not listening to me earlier when I told you I always get what I want? Do you think you can end your life by such a trick as this—and in my own home? In case you didn’t know, I don’t like the spilling of blood. Maybe I never spoke to you about that one aspect of my peculiar personality. I detest the spilling of blood. There are much better ways of ending your life, ways that don’t spill blood. Did you know that?”
I pulled a coil from my pocket and opened it to its full length, holding an end in each hand.
“Now, if you really wanted to end your life, you should have asked me to help you. Some call me an expert on the subject of death, and I never cause blood to flow—well, almost never. This small innocent looking piece of catgut is a very useful tool and can perform your task for you. Do you want my help, my dear?”
I walked toward her with my hands still spread out, and she backed away from me until she hit the fireplace. I slid the lasso under her chin and raised her bloodstained face up toward me. “This would have ended it all for you and without any blood being poured out. In fact, it wouldn’t have even chafed your delicate skin. It’s not rough and hard like most hangmen’s nooses. No, it’s very smooth. Feel it, Christine.”
I moved the lasso back and forth across her neck. “See how easily it moves. It wouldn’t have hurt a bit, and it never would have caused your blood to flow from your pretty face. But you didn’t think to consult the expert—what folly. You didn’t bother to ask me for help, now did you, just as you didn’t bother to say goodbye to me?”
I lowered the lasso and ran my finger down her bodice where her blood had dropped. “You’ve tainted our perfect day with blood, and that angers me. You’re responsible for ruining my dress that I picked out especially for you and especially for this day, our wedding day. And to think you ruined it with the crimson of blood that I detest. You would have been better off if you’d cut it up with a knife than to spill blood on it. I don’t like blood, Christine, and now look what you’ve done. What a shame, my sweet,” I said softly as I moved her hair from her bloody forehead. “What a shame.”
I sighed and she whimpered, “Oh, Erik, please let me go.”
I studied her pleading eyes for a few moments, and then I turned from her, fighting the compassion moving into my frigid heart. Then I looked back over my shoulder.
“You must have a headache and probably don’t feel like celebrating a wedding right now, but we’re not going to put this off. I’ve waited a very long time for this day, and a little blood or headache isn’t going to stop me.”
I ran my fingers across her bloody forehead again and spoke softly. “I’ll be gentle, Christine. I’ll be most gentle.” Then I lowered my hand and backed away. “I have only a small matter to attend to, and then I’ll be back. Just in case you decide to do something else that will anger me even more, I’ll help you restrain yourself from further harm.”
I got a chair from the dining room and set it right in the middle of the drawing room. “Sit down, my dear,” I hissed as I motioned to the chair. When she didn’t move, I grabbed her upper a
rm, dragged her there, and sat her down. “Now you’ll see how versatile my lassos can be.”
I pulled her arms behind her and wrapped a lasso around one wrist and one slat in the back of the chair. After I wove the loose end of the lasso around itself, it was firmly in place. Then I did the same with the other lasso and her other wrist.
“Now the catgut is smooth and won’t chafe your wrist, but if you struggle against it, it will quite likely tear into your flesh. We don’t want any more blood, now do we, my dear?”
I stood beside her and listened to her sobs, and then, with my fingers around her neck, I forced her to look up at me one more time.
“Oh, what sobs. If it weren’t for the sobs of my own heart, tearing apart while it listened to you and your lover make plans to rip it out of my chest, I might be inclined to hear your sobs more clearly. But my own pain is blocking the path to my heart. What a shame.—What a shame.”
“Erik, please. This isn’t the man I’ve come to care for. Don’t do this.”
My jaws were clenching, and I felt like screaming. I needed to run. I couldn’t go through any more of this twisting and turning. One second I could ruthlessly strap her wrists to a chair, and the next second I wanted to fall at her feet and slit my own throat if she asked it of me. Right then, the pain in my chest was so great that I would have welcomed death. Consequently, I knelt down in front of her and made her look at me.
“My heart would have listened to your wants and needs forever, Christine. I never would have made you cry—never. I would have given you everything. Why did you turn betrayer and spoil all my wonderful plans for us?”
“Erik, please listen to me. Hear me. I didn’t betray you. I was coming back. Honestly, I was coming back. You must believe me.”
The expression in her tear-filled eyes almost made its way through to me, but then I recalled so many of her words, the ones revealing my secrets to her lover, so I rose to my feet, backed away from her, and took out my watch.
Through Phantom Eyes: Volume Five - Christine Page 67