Through Phantom Eyes: Volume Five - Christine

by Theodora Bruns

  I let go of her hand with a shove, and walked back to the chair and sat down. “My ring,” I said softly. “Do you know where my ring is, Christine? Perhaps I can remember seeing it somewhere if I try hard enough.” I started going through my pockets as if I was confused. “Now, where is it? Where did I put it? Oh, getting old is such a bother. I can’t seem to remember anything these days. Don’t get old, my sweet, it can be most unpleasant. Oh! Here it is.”

  I pulled the ring from my pocket and held it up between us. I held it to my open lips and huffed on it, and then I took a handkerchief from my pocket and polished it. “There, good as new. It sure is a good thing I’m a magician. If I wasn’t, my precious ring might have been lost forever. Oh, I can tell by your expression that you’re wondering how I found my ring. Well, I just told you. I can make things appear and disappear—like this.”

  I held my ring up in the air between two fingers, and then I closed my fist and turned it in a circle. When I opened it, my ring was gone. I did the same thing in reverse and then my ring was back.

  “Fascinating, isn’t it? People have always loved watching my hands and fingers as I’ve made things appear and disappear. But, you know what I love? I love to watch their faces and eyes while they watch me. It makes me laugh inside. They’re so dimwitted. They can’t figure out such a simple trick with a ring or a note. And then when I do something really big—oh, my, you should see their faces then.

  “I have to admit that some illusions are a bit more difficult, like the appearance of a toad in a diva’s throat or the disappearance of a white stallion from a stable or how about a diva disappearing from center stage right in front of thousands of people? I wasn’t around to see or hear the reaction to that accomplishment. That would have been fun to see.

  “However, even that one didn’t require too much thought. But there are those that require a great deal of expertise, such as taking down a section of a palace with my hands tied behind my back. Now that was quite a feat, and you should have seen the Shah’s face. It was worth a thousand laughs. But large or small, it doesn’t matter to me. I can handle whatever challenge is put before me.”

  I sighed loudly. “But, sad to say, I don’t think there’ll be any laughing going on in the hours ahead. Too bad. Too bad.”

  Christine was silent and almost seemed to be in shock, while I casually studied my ring and put it on my finger. Then I sighed again and started walking around the room slowly, looking at and touching different objects as I went. I began twisting the ring on my finger and glancing at her as I traveled through the room that once held the calming fragrance of lavender and so much promise.

  “Oh, Erik, I’m sorry. I tried to look for it. I . . .”

  “Never mind the ring, my dear,” I growled low. “It’s now back where it belongs.”

  “Erik, please let me explain.”

  I huffed and growled loudly at her. “Save your breath, my dear. You’re going to need it.”

  By then, I was close to her again, and I once more raised her hand, but, that time, I kissed the back of it and whispered, “So sad. So sad. Such a lovely hand, and to think it will die naked.”

  Her eyes began to fill with tears. “Erik, please don’t talk like this. Let me explain.”

  “Talk? Is that what you think this is about?—Just talk? Oh, my dear, how could you possibly think you could get away with being so traitorous?”

  “Traitorous?” she questioned, as I started my tour of the room again. “You’re not making any sense, Erik. How was I . . .”

  “You don’t understand? Well, then, let me explain. I see all, Christine, and you never should have forgotten that or underestimated my scope of knowledge. So, because of your lack of foresight, you’ll now pay for your traitorous deceit. All traitors are executed you know. No one has ever crossed your—poor Erik—and escaped being eaten up with worms—no one. Well, no one except your young lover, and the only reason he’s still breathing is because of my love for you. But that is all in the past now. No more love and no more deceit and no more sparing lives for you.”

  By then, tears were streaming down her cheeks, meaning she was acting very well or her acting skills were slipping away from her. In either case, I kept up my taunts.

  “Do I execute you, my dear? Is that what I should do to my traitor? No, I don’t think so—not just yet anyway. I get everything I want, my dear sweet Christine.” I spread my arms out around the room. “I wanted this home down here, and do I have it? Yes, I do. I wanted to become your Angel of Music, and did I become your Angel of Music? Why, yes, I did. I wanted you to sing center stage, and have you sung center stage? One more time, the answer is a resounding yes.

  “I wanted you to come down here and stay with me for a few days, and did you come down here? My, my, yes, you did. And I wanted you to come back of your own accord, and did you? Again, yes, my dear. Are you getting the picture? I get everything I want.” Then I said coldly and deliberately, “Once I go after it.”

  I walked slowly back to her and placed my knuckles under her chin. “Now follow me, if you can, you foolish woman. I asked you to play my living wife, and did you? Yes, you did. What’s left, my dear?”

  I moved to the other side of the bed and ran my hand over the dress. “Oh, you can’t say it out loud, now, can you? I want you to marry me for real and be my real wife; my real living wife. Do you doubt that I can also accomplish that feat? Oh, I see in your eyes that you’re now following me, aren’t you? Can you see where this is going? You’ve often told me I should sleep in my own bed, remember those times? Well, depending on the outcome of certain decisions, I will be sleeping in my bed shortly—but I won’t be sleeping there alone. Are you still following me?”

  “Erik, please don’t do this,” she pleaded. “I can explain everything if you’ll just give me a chance.”

  “A chance?” I yelled. “Is that what you gave me? A chance? A chance to say goodbye?”

  I went back to the chair, leaned back in it, and propped my foot up on the end of the bed again. “I wouldn’t be doing this, my dear. I would have let you go if you had been honest with me and given me a chance. It would have torn my heart apart to see you go, but if that’s what you wanted and that’s what would make you happy, then I wanted you to be happy, more than I wanted happiness myself, and I would have let you go.

  “I would have cried, yes, but I would have let you go. But then you said you couldn’t bear to see me cry. Well, let me tell you something. It would have been much easier to see me cry than to watch what I’m about to do, much easier than what you’ll have to bear in the hours ahead.”

  She tried her plea again. “Erik, this isn’t you. Please, don’t do this.”

  My tone was harsh as I responded, “Don’t do this?—It isn’t me?—In case you’ve forgotten, you senseless creature, it was you who broke our agreement. It was you, remember? I promised I’d never hurt you, but you broke our agreement, not me. So I’m no longer under any restrictions to comply with what I said I would or would not do. I don’t need to let you go now because you tried to deceive me. So now I can do whatever I like with you. I’m free to do whatever I want.”

  I lowered my foot and leaned in toward her, speaking softly. “Do you know what I want, Christine? I want you as my wife. Therefore, you must dress for your wedding day, my dear. The chapel waits, as does the pastor. And we mustn’t keep our guests waiting, so you must dress quickly.”

  I got up and moved next to her, holding out my hand for her to take, but she looked away from me and refused her hand. “Oh, come now, my dear. We’re not going back to that place, are we? We’ve been through too much together for you to refuse to give me your hand.”

  Her breaths were coming quickly when she glared up into my eyes, so I shook my head. “Then have it your way, my sweet.” I grabbed her arm and brought her to her feet. “Our guests await the bride and groom, my dear sweet betrothed, and your groom waits for you. So dress quickly.” I put my fingers under her shaking c
hin and lifted her face to mine. Then I lowered my face to hers and whispered slowly, “Your groom awaits, Christine.”

  I started backing out of the room, watching her. There was true fear in her eyes, but she didn’t move, so I walked back to her.

  “Now, come, my dear, you’re not moving very fast. Do you need my help? I’ll be more than happy to help you dress, if that’s what you wish. I’ve never played the part of a wardrobe assistant before, but I’m always willing to learn new roles, so this should be fun—don’t you think?”

  I reached for and released the tie on the bodice of her dress, but she grabbed it out of my hand and backed away from me.

  I smiled, and said softly, “Remember, Christine, I always get what I want. You’ll be in that dress. Whether you dress yourself or I dress you, the end will be the same. You’ll be in that dress and you’ll be my bride. So make up your mind. Do you dress yourself, or do I?”

  Her jaws tightened. “You can’t force me to do this.”

  I smiled, sighed, and took another step toward her. “Oh, I could force you easily enough and enjoy it as well. But I won’t force you. You’ll put it on willingly.”

  She looked at the dress again and then at me. “No, I won’t.”

  “Perfect, Christine, you’re playing right into my hand, just the way I’ve scripted it. I knew you would refuse; in fact, I was counting on your refusal. I’ve pictured this moment—you refusing.” I took another step toward her and then reached out and placed my fingers gently under her chin. Then I said, barely above a whisper, “I would prefer to undress you myself.”

  Indignantly, she shoved my hand away and stepped back, which put her back against her armoire. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “I wouldn’t? You accused me of being mad. Don’t you think a madman would enjoy undressing his bride? I think he would.” I turned and stepped away from her, and then I looked at her coldly over my shoulder. “I know I will.”

  Her chest rose rapidly several times, and then she darted for the door again. Fruitlessly, she shook the door and whimpered, while I took out my watch and looked at the time.

  “Time is wasting, my sweet. We don’t want to be late for our nuptials.”

  As she turned and looked at me, the amount of fear in her eyes began to penetrate my hardened heart, and I again questioned what I was doing. I couldn’t hurt my Christine—not my Christine. Buying time to think, I slipped my watch back in my pocket and then looked at the gown on her bed.

  My thoughts fluctuated between my choices, and then I looked back at her. But when I saw a tear slowly roll down her cheek my heart broke completely, and the only choice I could make became clear. I stepped closer to her and removed that tear with the back of my fingers, ready to apologize and beg for forgiveness. Then, out of nowhere, she slapped me across my face. It stung, but not nearly as much as her words.

  “Don’t touch me! You’re evil—all the way through! I hate you, Erik! I hate you! Raoul was right! You’re evil. He’ll come for me. He’ll find the passage I use and come for me. Then he’ll kill you for what you’re doing to me.”

  That was all I needed to erase my benevolent thoughts, and I came back at her with cold indifference. “You think you can stop me or hurt me with your little slap? You have no idea what others have done to get me to bend to their wishes. Remember all my scars, Christine? Remember what happened to all the ones who gave me those scars?

  “Your slap means nothing to me. Your attempt is nothing more than an irritating mosquito bite. It can’t begin to compare to the others. And I hope your lover does come for you. But if you think your precious Raoul can stop me from attaining what I want, you’ve been reading the wrong script.

  “I’ve taken down those who were much more numerous and mightier than he will ever think of being. I took them down without ever laying a finger on them, and I’ll take that simple aristocrat down without laying a single finger on him. Trust me. It will not turn out well for him when he arrives. I’ll have a very, very warm welcome waiting for him. I stand here today as living proof that no one, no matter who they are, can outmaneuver or outsmart me. I always get what I want, Christine, and I want you.”

  I looked down into her fearful eyes with pure venom in mine. Then I gently began to unbutton the top button of her bodice. Once more, she raised her hand, preparing for another slap, but I grasped her wrist quickly.

  “I don’t want to play rough, my dear. Please, don’t make me.”

  With her wrist still in my hand, I prepared to unbutton her bodice again with my other hand. But she raised her other hand, forcing me to grasp it. So there we stood, with both of my hands holding her wrists back against the door. I shook my head and smirked.

  Then I lowered my face, placed my cheek against hers, and whispered in her ear, “Have it your way, my sweet.”

  Instantly, I let go of both her wrists and ripped the front of her bodice open in one quick move.

  “All right! All right! I’ll put it on!” she shrieked, while grasping her bodice closed.

  I stepped back from her and bowed low. “I know you will, my dear. Didn’t I predict you would?” Then I spread my hand out toward her wedding gown, and, after she walked toward it, I went to the door. I opened it and looked back at her, giving her some final instructions.

  “I know you’re an expert at changing costumes quickly, so don’t try to play me the fool again. Your bridegroom will be waiting, impatiently, for his bride.”

  She silently glared at me, and I smiled and bowed low again.

  Then, after rising, I said, “Yes, you’ll make a most beautiful bride—and wife.” I took my watch out of its pocket and looked at the time. “I’ll be back through this door in five minutes sharp, my dear, so either be ready for me or—well—let’s just hope you’re ready.”

  I started to close the door when she whimpered, “Erik, please don’t do this.”

  I cocked my head. “Erik? Who is Erik? I remember you calling me a madman. From now on you can call me Monsieur Folle if you like, but no longer call me Erik.” Then I closed the door and turned the key in the lock, ending the first scene of our final act.

  Forty-Six

  I stood in the middle of my drawing room and literally watched the pendulum in my floor clock sway as its hands ticked away the five minutes. Just as soon as they were up, I opened her door without knocking, carrying my superior strength and confidence in my stride. But I was completely unprepared for what awaited me.

  Christine was standing across the room with her back to me, trying to fasten the laces on the back of the dress. As the door opened, she turned and looked at me, and I lost my breath completely. Everything in me, all my plans and schemes, began to crumble at my feet like so much rubbish. She was the picture of everything beautiful, everything feminine, everything wonderful, like a fragile snowflake on pure driven snow. My only desire was to hold her gently in my arms and never let her go.

  I swallowed hard, clenched my teeth, and took a deep breath; then I closed the space between us, determined I wouldn’t lose my protective covering—my controlled anger. I wrapped my fingers around her arms and slowly pulled her close to me. She was drawing on her acting skills, but they weren’t strong enough to cover the expression in her frightened eyes.

  “Erik, please don’t do this. I know this isn’t you.”

  “Don’t do what, my dear? I only want to lace the back of your dress. You can let your betrothed do that much for you—can’t you?”

  I reached around her back, feeling for the laces and hooks. Then methodically I wove the laces around the hooks, pulled them tight, and tied them in a bow. Taking another hold on her arms, I moved her back, so I could look in her eyes that were speaking of her pain and fear.

  Her chin was quivering when she spoke again. “Erik, please. Think about what you’re doing. Don’t do this to me.”

  “Don’t do what? Can’t you speak the words? Can’t you speak honestly in front of your husband?”

  I began backin
g her toward the bed and she whimpered, “Erik, please.”

  Once the back of her legs touched the bed, I let one of her arms go and ran my fingers along her cheek and down her soft neck. The fright in her eyes was immense, and while I could have told her not to worry, and that I had no intention of taking my first kiss much less taking her against her will, I didn’t. I wanted her to suffer as she’d made me suffer.

  But with the feel of her so close to me and dressed the way she was, I was the one who was suffering. Like a willow in the wind, my anger began to sway, allowing fresh breaths of my love for her to tug at the pieces of my broken heart. Without any forethought or script, my heart began to speak softly, while my fingertips caressed her tender neck.

  “My heart was waiting just for you its entire life, My Angel. It recognized you from the first moment you appeared on my stage, and it will beat only for you until I take my last breath. You alone were allowed to unlock my guarded heart, you alone, Christine. But now that it’s opened, and you’re no longer inside it, I’m lost. If I let you go now, my heart will be left open for the world to enter and trample upon. If that happens, there’ll be no reason for me to live any longer.”

  Her eyes pleaded, and her lips again whispered, “Oh, please, Erik. Please, let’s sit and talk.”

  Once more my resolve began to crack under the pressure of my immense love for her, and I could feel myself crumbling at her feet if I didn’t return to the security of my anger, so I quickly led her out of that room of temptation. I locked the door and put the key in my vest pocket, making sure she saw my actions. I then motioned around the drawing room and began directing the second scene.

  “You might notice, my dear, that all the doors are shut and locked, so there’s nowhere for you to go. I’ve also securely locked the passage in the music room, just in case you have any ideas about escaping through it. This room, where we’ve spent so much time together, will be where we share our last moments. Well, perhaps not, that will be your choice.”