Through Phantom Eyes: Volume Five - Christine

by Theodora Bruns

  Then I sat at his feet and began massaging them in the same areas the doctor had shown my father when I was a boy. Once done, I knelt on the floor beside him and watched his breathing and checked his pulse. He was very weak, but at least he was alive.

  I was still on my knees, holding his hand, when the tears started again. I lowered my forehead to the back of his hand and released my tears in sobs, knowing I’d nearly ended the life of my best friend. The pain from that realization was beyond words. I was still in that position when I heard Christine approach. I turned and looked at her standing in the doorway, not even trying to conceal my tears. She’d seen me in almost every possible situation that a woman could see a man, so what were a few tears?

  “Raoul is starting to wake, Erik.”

  I nodded, released Oded’s hand and placed it under the blanket.

  When I checked on Raoul he was stirring, so I gave him a healthy dose of my herbal remedy, to which I added rum, laudanum, and an oil to help him sleep. I needed to keep him under control until I was ready to deal with him.

  I was calm, and, much to my surprise, so was he. I told him what I was doing and the importance of the tea. After sending Christine into the kitchen, I stripped his wet clothes off him and helped him put the dry ones on. Then after wrapping him in more dry blankets, I laid him down and worked on his feet for about fifteen minutes.

  During that time, I heard Oded coughing, so I looked toward Christine’s room. Oded was raised up on one elbow and watching me. We stared at each other for a few moments, but no words were spoken. When he lay back down, I said a silent thank you that he was well enough to move on his own.

  Once I was finished with Raoul’s feet, I turned out the light in the mirror chamber and locked the door, and then, as I was throwing another log on the fire, I realized I hadn’t seen Christine in a while. I’d all but forgotten about her, and as I looked around, I saw her standing in the kitchen doorway, watching me, without much of an expression on her tear-stained face.

  “You should take this time to get out of that wedding dress. It won’t be needed ever again.”

  “I will,” she responded softly.

  “I need to get more firewood, but I won’t be gone long,” I assured her.

  She nodded, and I headed for the door to the lake. Once I reached it, I turned briefly and saw my beautiful Christine holding Raoul’s hand and talking softly to him. I lowered my eyes and head and left them alone and in love—just the way it should have been all along.

  Fifty-One

  Christine had changed into her blue dress and was back by Raoul’s side when I returned, so, without saying anything, I put more wood on the fire. Resting one foot on the hearth, I stared down into the flames. The warmth penetrated my legs, but my heart was not to be warmed that night.

  I then sat in my chair, and, with my chin resting on my knuckles, I was almost hypnotized by the flickering flames. For all outward appearances, I might have looked like a normal man enjoying the warmth of an evening fire, but, inside, I was nothing even remotely close to that man.

  I thought about Oded in the next room sleeping, also appearing as a man at peace and not a man who had barely escaped death. I looked at the fair young de Chagny, also sleeping, and then at Christine, sitting on the floor at his side and running her fingers across his brow.

  The two men and the woman I’d almost killed would live to see another day, but my life, as I knew it, was over forever. Content in my shrouded castle I could no longer be. For how could I walk through my domain without knowing I was on my way to meet her? How could I play my piano without seeing her face beside it? How could I raise my voice in an aria without hearing her voice join mine in harmony? How could I sit in my box, overlooking the audience, without seeing all the deaths I’d almost caused? How? I could not. Each time would be like a knife entering my heart anew.

  What had I done? My thoughts went to my life of taking lives, and I closed my eyes and shivered. I once excused each and every one of the lives I took as being necessary for my own survival, that is, with the exception of a few. My months of insanity as a teen and then the massacre at the campfire in Persia I couldn’t excuse as self-defense.

  And then there were the times when I came close to taking the life of my best friend, Oded. It took an assassin’s bullet to prevent me from succeeding the first time, the flicker of a struck match the second time, Darius’ strong voice the third time, and the pleading eyes of an angelic woman the last time.

  What kind of a monster had I become? While sitting in my chair before the fire, I felt I was sane, but I knew I wasn’t. Only an insane, a monstrously insane, mind could ever do what I’d just tried to do. I studied Christine, still beside her young love, and realized how close I’d come to causing her death, along with the death of who knows how many thousands above us.

  I glanced up to the mantle and the figurines. What kind of a monster would place them there in the first place? This hideous nightmare had to stop, but how? I’d felt that burying myself in the depths of the opera house would protect others from me, but somehow it hadn’t. Where could I go or what could I do that would prevent a recurrence of some disaster at my hands?

  I was mad for sure, with only moments of seemingly sane episodes in between. It was just as Doctor Faure once said when describing my actions: The division between an insane mind and a genius mind can often be fragile. Apparently, I’d managed to dissolve that fragile division, and it no longer existed. I had to do something to prevent any further danger to others, but my insanely genius mind was refusing to be of any assistance. What was I to do?

  My sights were fixed on Christine, but it appeared she didn’t even know I was in the room, since her attention stayed on Raoul. Without removing my sight from her, I laid my head back against the chair and took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. When I did, she turned her head and looked at me, with the stain from her tears and stage paint still visible on her cheeks. She sighed and then spoke to me.

  “Thank you, Erik. Thank you for saving his life.”

  I stared at her, without any physical or verbal response. She could have slashed me with her tongue and cursed me to hell. She could have beat me with the fire poker or embedded my jeweled dagger into my heart, but she didn’t. She thanked me, and those words tore through me worse than anything else she could have done to me. She thanked me for saving the life of a man I almost killed. How ludicrous was that?

  Without expression, I looked back at the fire, and she turned back to the young man sleeping at her side. What was I to do with myself? What was I to do?

  On the train ride to Paris with Oded, I remember thinking my presence couldn’t possibly cause more harm than the slaughter of his family or the campfire massacre, but I was so wrong. The crime I’d almost perpetrated was a hundred times worse. What was wrong with me? I had to end the deaths. If no one else could end my reign of terror, then I had to. I couldn’t continue moving from one tragedy to a worse one anymore.

  I looked back at Christine and Raoul again, and I knew in that instant what needed to be done. Since burying myself in my home in the cellars of the opera house hadn’t worked out so well, I had to literally bury myself under layers and layers of dirt in its cellars. That would have to work.

  Christine shivered, and as if that was my cue to begin the closing scene, I got up and went to the kitchen where I prepared a fresh plate of cheese, apples, and bread. Then I made her tea with a small amount of brandy to warm her. I took it back into the parlor and placed it on the table by my empty chair. I grabbed another dry blanket, and, after wrapping it around her shoulders, I tried to help her up.

  “Come, Christine, you’re chilled. You need to get warm, and you need to eat.” She, at first, resisted, so I encouraged her. “He’s going to sleep for a few hours. I’ll watch over him. You need to rest and get warm.”

  She let me lead her to my chair and sat down. I then tucked the blanket in around her body and handed her the cup of tea, telling her
to drink it. She looked at me, then at Raoul, and then back at me.

  “I don’t want to sleep. I want to be awake when he wakes.”

  “You should be. The tea won’t make you sleep, it will only warm you.”

  She nodded, and then, with trust which I didn’t deserve, she began drinking it. I could have been poisoning her or drugging her to take her away while she slept, but still in her sweet innocence, even after all I’d done, she trusted me and drank.

  I knelt in front of her with two cold, wet rags and wrapped them around her poor welted wrists. Then I gently rubbed another one across the blood on her forehead. Once that was done, I stayed on my knees before her, watching her for a moment while she gazed into the fire. Before I lost my determination, I sat on the coffee table facing her and watched her as she sipped her tea. After only a moment’s hesitation, I began the most important act of my career.

  “Christine, to give you an apology after all I’ve done to you is such a hollow gesture. There are no words to describe how terribly sorry I am for all my actions, starting with the first time I saw you behind your mirror right up to and including this moment. I’ve put you through unspeakable grief, all in the name of my love.”

  She stared at me blankly, and I clenched my teeth before continuing. “The only truth to any of this is my deep, and, I presume my abnormal, love for you. But that in no way is an excuse for all the atrocities I’ve committed over these last months. I can’t and I won’t even ask for your forgiveness, since it would be preposterous to do so, and because I don’t deserve to be forgiven.

  “When I asked you to marry me and go away with me and live a long life somewhere, it was all a fabricated delusion formed in my demented mind, a desperate mind searching for some facsimile of what was normal, but it was all a lie. I told that lie to you and myself so often that I even believed it could happen.

  “But I’m trying to be truthful with myself and, more importantly, you, right now. Even if I was capable of reaching into the heavens and grasping a star and then placing it in your hands, I would never be able to live the life I believed I could with you.”

  I had to look away from her eyes for a moment, since I was yet again telling her a lie. “The beauty in your heart is pure and powerful, Christine, and perhaps if I’d moved these latest events in a different order, your splendid qualities would have allowed you to marry me. But it would have only been a sham, because I wouldn’t live long enough to see it through.”

  She looked at me over the top of her cup and then prepared to speak, but I silenced her, needing to finish my last untruth before I lost my courage.

  “I’m so sorry for everything, Christine, everything. I don’t deserve anything from you, but I have one last request.”

  She slowly nodded, although I couldn’t understand why.

  “What I’m going to tell you is in no way meant as an excuse for what I’ve done to you and everyone else, but I do want you to know the reason why I went completely mad.” I lowered my head again and took a deep breath. “I’ve never made a secret of just how much I love you.”

  I looked back at her. “Perhaps the type and depth of love I have for you is wrong, since it enabled me to commit this ghastly deed. Or maybe it’s just me, along with my insanity, but, in either case, I lost what mind I had with the thought of you going away without a goodbye and never seeing you again. I was so wrong, and there aren’t words to express just how much remorse I feel for what I’ve put you through.”

  She started to respond, but I held up my hand and cut her off.

  “I don’t want you to feel you have to say anything to me in reply. I only want to explain. Remember that night when I came home after Raoul shot me and you were confused about the degree of my anger?”

  I gave her a chance to nod, knowing I needed her to follow my thinking if my lies were going to help her through the coming events.

  “One of the reasons I was so angry was because I felt that fate had once again moved me into a place that was so unfair. My entire life I’d been waiting for you, and I believed we were on the way to something very special that even my wildest dreams couldn’t conjure. I knew we had something between us, and in time it could turn into a love that would never be matched—all we needed was time. But, that night, the doctor told me I didn’t have time, and that I would be dead within a matter of weeks.”

  She instantly sat forward, her eyes opened wide, and she covered her mouth with her fingers. “No, this can’t be. Tell me it isn’t so. Tell me this is one of your tricks—one of your lies.”

  I lowered my face from hers and shook my head. “I’m sorry, Christine. I’m so sorry. I wish I could tell you it was a lie, but I can’t.”

  “Erik, no, no. This can’t be happening. You always find a way. What about one of your herbs or oils? Won’t one of them help? One of them has to work.”

  I looked back into her frightened eyes and shook my head slowly. Then, before I could continue, she tried again.

  “What did the doctor say was wrong? Is it your lungs?”

  Again, I shook my head. “No, it’s my heart this time.”

  “Your heart? What happened?”

  Preparing to tell probably the most contrived lie I’d ever told, I lowered my eyes to my hands again. “My heart has been dying since I was five. That’s when I had my first lung infection. I nearly died then, but our doctor’s expertise saved me; however, the infection took its toll on my heart, damaging it beyond repair.

  “I had many repeated lung infections after that, and every one of them weakened my heart more. The last crushing blow came with the infection in my leg that I fought for so long. That infection invaded my heart muscle, damaging it even more. The doctor told me then that I wouldn’t live long, but I’d just found you and I convinced myself to believe that if I took good care of myself, if I ate well and slept well, I would be fine.

  “I’m so sorry, Christine. I was being selfish. I should have ended my charade before I brought you down here, and you never would have been involved with any of this. I’m so sorry.”

  “I can’t believe this is happening. I watched you take care of Raoul and Oded. You were so strong. You worked for over two hours on them, and then you carried both of them out of that room. You were so strong. How could you do that with a dying heart?”

  She was making this lie most hard to make believable, and I had to really concentrate on what I was saying. If I stammered at all over my words, she would know I was lying, and I had to make her believe I was telling the truth. It was the only way I could set her truly free. So, while rubbing my fingers together, I looked right in her eyes and answered her question.

  “During my life, I’ve learned some extraordinary things about our bodies. They have a wonderful power to heal themselves, and when they’re called upon to perform heroic feats, they come to the call. I once saw an elderly man lift his heavy wagon that had overturned on his dog. He only lifted it about a meter, but he lifted it, while it took three grown men to lift it up after him. When called upon, our bodies can perform impossible acts. I was called upon in there, and my body came to the call. That’s all. Nothing more.”

  There was silence, and I lowered my eyes again, but my angel wasn’t about to give up just yet.

  “We have to find a doctor who can help you. Oh,” she whimpered. “This can’t be happening.”

  “I know. I felt the same way when I came to the realization of my mortality, but, please—I need to finish my explanation.”

  I looked up at her, and, with her chin quivering, she nodded.

  “All I have left is a short time, perhaps only a few days, so when I heard that Raoul was going to steal those last few days from me, I truly went mad. I only wanted to pretend I was married for a few more days. That’s why I told you I would be leaving at the end of the two weeks. I felt certain, if there was a deadline on a decision from you, you would have to choose Raoul over me. I knew you loved him and not me, at least not yet. And that’s why I told you t
o spend time with Raoul, to help cement your relationship for when I was gone. That’s also why I told you I needed you to come to me and give me back my ring, so I could be buried with it and tell you goodbye.”

  “Oh, Erik, this can’t be happening. I’m so sorry . . .”

  With anger, I rebuked her. “Don’t you dare, Christine Daaé! Don’t you dare try to apologize, not after what I’ve done to you. Don’t you dare!”

  There was silence for a moment before I gathered myself and continued, “Based on that knowledge, I’m going to ask you for one last thing. You’re in no way obligated to grant me my final request, but, if you could find it in your pure and honest heart to do so, it will help all concerned, especially you, to put all of this behind us.”

  I waited for a nod before I began rolling the gold band around my finger and then went on. “Can you find it in your heart to pretend you’re married to me for a few days more? That’s all I ask. Just keep the ring for a few more days and pretend.”

  Her eyes widened, and I could see the fear returning in them, and I realized she must have thought the entire episode was going to repeat itself, so I tried to calm her fears.

  “Don’t worry, Christine. I won’t ask for a marital due. I won’t even ask you to say you love me ever again. I won’t ask you to stay down here with me either. Just say you’ll keep my ring and stay mine until my life is over, which won’t be much longer. If you could refrain from marrying Raoul until then, I can go to my grave in peace.

  “You can give my ring back to me and bury me, along with this impossible script called my life. This will free you to marry Raoul and become the wife you were destined to be. I’m comforted, knowing you have someone like Raoul to care for you. He loves you very much, and I know you love him, and the two of you can live a good and long life together.”

  I sighed as I looked at the fire, but I didn’t give her time to respond before I continued, “I thank you for my first kiss, Christine. You have no idea what it meant to me for you to give of yourself in that fashion. I’ve reconciled myself to the fact that it’s the closest I’ll come to the intimacies of a wife, and I thank you for that touch.”