A Phantom's Claim

Chapter Eleven

Christine stared out onto the porch, watching sullenly as Erik placed the smallest sack into a shallow, freshly dug grave. A shudder raked up Christine's spine, and momentarily she forgot about the hot tears spilling down her pale face.

All illusions she had built around her were shattered. All hopes of happiness with Erik she had ever held were stolen from her. The fairy-tale crashed around her, coming down hard. Now Christine saw only darkness surrounding her, shrouding her in every direction. There was no slither of light at the end of the dark void. All dreams of love had died.

When Erik returned from the burial, Christine was sat on the plush pink chair by the fire. Charles was snuggled in her lap and snoozing peacefully, blissfully unaware of the discord in the home.

Christine looked up, her stroking hand pausing as Erik approached. He seemed to be followed by coldness; the little, light hairs on Christine's arms began to prickle upwards. She could feel Erik's icy eyes upon her, watching with intent. Christine tried to avoid his gaze; however Erik was soon knelt down before her.

His cold eyes seemed to glow as they were frozen on hers. Then a small, wicked smile curved his lips.

"There should be no further interruptions, my Christine," he said in a low voice. "Now we may enjoy married life together, in peace."

Christine bit down on her bottom lip, trying to restrain herself. Images of what Erik had done flashed through her mind, making the face before her more distorted than ever.

"Now," Erik smiled strangely.

His eyes fell upon Charles, making Christine squirm uncomfortably. She placed her hands over him, holding him tightly. A wide grin crawled across Erik's face and he reached out, trying to take him from her. But Christine protested.

"No," she pleaded desperately. "Please Erik, don't take him from me."

Erik hesitated, but then set out to take Charles again, this time succeeding. Christine quickly got to her feet and for a moment she towered over Erik, firmly trying to fight for her only comfort and friend.

However when Erik stood, it was he who loomed above her, just as dark and intimidating as ever. He held Charles in his pale hands, stroking him attentively with his long bony fingers.

"He seems to be on the mend, my dear," he spoke down to her.

Christine tried to snatch him back, but Erik moved away, turning his back on his wife. He faced the fire.

"Please Erik, don't do this!" Christine cried.

He stepped towards the fire, watching the flames as they rose and fell before him. Christine could see dark ideas slowly beginning to conjure themselves in Erik's mind.

Suddenly Christine placed her small hand on his shoulder, dragging him from his thoughts. Erik turned to face her and seeing her reaction he handed Charles back to her. Christine looked away, wondering how different she looked to the innocent, happy chorus girl, that had never known the touch of her Angel.

Christine lifted Charles to her face, gently kissing him between his long, slim ears. Relief swept through her, making her forget Erik was there for a moment.

"Christine," Erik whispered.

He watched her closely, almost looking hurt as she turned away from him. Christine listened as Erik fell onto the chair. But she did not stay long. She scuttled up the stairs, leaving Erik with his thoughts.

She did not want to be anywhere near him, she would even give up the warmth of the fire to escape his company, and it was all Erik's fault.

Christine made a small nest out of pillows and scarves on the wooden rocker in her bedroom. She gently placed the sleeping Charles inside and managed a small smile. Looking down on him, she wondered if little Charles would now be her only companion, the only thing to keep her sane. But at the same time Christine knew that not even Charles was safe from Erik's temper. He was something Erik could use against her, another tool to manipulate her with. Frowning, Christine realised she would have to give him up as soon as Charles was strong enough; the cruel hand of nature would be far gentler than the wrath of the Opera Ghost.

Just then, there was a light knock on the door.

Christine spun around, her eyes wide with fright. But they soon narrowed, filling with a mixture of hate and despair.

Erik smiled softly, swiftly approaching her. He caught her arms in his, pulling her over to the bed. She cried and screamed in protest, but Erik would not give in. Christine knew he was determined to see his desires come to life.

"Erik, please!" Christine begged.

He lifted her onto the bed and pushed her backward slightly, holding her there tightly. With strong hands Erik pushed her down and kept her there, pushing against her chest. Christine writhed and kicked out, but Erik already had her pantaloons around her ankles.

Quickly, he pushed her skirts up around her waist and knelt down between her bare legs. Before Christine could react, he placed a gentle kiss upon her more sensitive spot, trailing his hot, wet tongue up and down her womanhood.

Christine's struggle dwindled for a moment, adding to Erik's determination. With vigour, he focused upon her most vulnerable spot, the one that made her body jolt then stiffen. She knew she was being manipulated but at the same time Christine could feel her cheeks beginning to redden and hear her burning blood thudding in her ears. It felt sensational.

She let out a frustrated cry, loving and yet loathing how spectacular Erik felt on her.

Her pain had ebbed away completely, leaving Christine to savour the unearthly delights only Erik could give her.

"Erik stop!" She screamed suddenly, surprising herself.

Erik pulled back, concern flashing across his face.

Christine reached down, pulling her pantaloons up. She pushed her skirts down, quickly climbing onto her feet. Her knees trembled below, but she did not let it stop her.

Erik stared up at her. Christine could see he was confused and yet surprised that she was refusing his touch. He reached out for her, attempting to gently convince her to accept. But Christine moved away, leaving Erik alone upon his knees.

She would not be manipulated by him; it made her sick to know those pale hands were laden with innocent blood.

Christine sat by her dressing table, watching him approach her in the mirror. Erik then grabbed his mask from the dressing table and slipped it back on. He stared down at her, looking lost.

Christine took deep breaths, her chest rose and fell. She closed her eyes for a moment and let the words slip from her quivering lips.

"You raped me, Erik," she told him, her voice no louder than a whisper.

Erik winced.

Christine turned around in her chair, facing him. She tried to be strong, but the urge to cry and run was becoming stronger. She resisted.

Christine was no longer a child.

"You raped me Erik!" Christine hissed. "And you hurt me doing it."

Erik looked away, tears shimmering in his eyes.

"Yes," he murmured. "I did, my Christine."

Christine swallowed heavily and turned away from him. She took a deep breath, trying to hold back her own tears.

"I don't want you to touch me again," Christine whispered. "I am obligated to be your wife, and I will stay as such." She paused, cringing at the thought. "But I will not let you touch me, Erik."

"I swear in time you will find it in your heart to forgive me," Erik said calmly.

Christine went to interject, but Erik dismissed her with a wave of his hand. She fell silent, biting her tongue when she just wanted to scream at him.

"And you will love me again," he promised.

"I never loved you," Christine spat out.

Erik paused, obviously thrown back, but he soon gathered his thoughts, becoming cool and calculated like the Opera Ghost he was.

"I do not like it when you lie to me, Christine," he said. "I know you loved me; I felt your want, your need."

Christine looked away, shaking her head lightly.

"I will show you how to love me again, Christine. I will make you love me!" Erik swore to her.

Christine glanced over her shoulder, letting out a sarcastic laugh. "You can't make someone love you, Erik. Not even one of your tricks could make me love you, not even your voice."

Erik bowed his head, sucking in a deep breath. He smiled strangely and gave a quick, decisive nod.

"You will see in time…" He murmured.

Christine turned around to ask what he meant, but when she did Erik was gone. The door softly closed behind him, leaving Christine alone to ponder what Erik was plotting. She looked to Charles and sighed. She felt like she was trapped in a labyrinth, were every turn looked the same, and now she was back to the very beginning of Erik's maze.

Would she ever be free from him?