My Angel of Music

Music of the Hemlock

This chapter is going to be written in a little different layout than what it usually is.. And you will soon see why...

Christine trembled as Erik led her into the dark, cold music room.  She whished that her dream had been real, and that right now she was playing with Annabel as Erik played the piano softly for elsa while she slept.  But no.. No, now Christine was being held against her will in this dark, dark prison wih no love and no light.  She shut her eyes tightly as Erik's hand wiggled out of her grasp and he gracefully sought out a candle and lit it with one sweep of his hand.  

"My dear, I haven't heard your angelic voice in so long... Every muscle in my body is aching for it.  If I do not listen to you soon, I will surely cease living."  He purred as his yellow eyes sweeped over her.  She looked at the floor, not daring to breathe in the tense moment. 

In that second, Christine made a decision.  She would not sing for him.  Not anymore.  She couldn't do it, even if she wanted to.  She was not capable of being under his spell and remaining sane.  her undeniable affection and curiosity towards him clashed with her hatred and fear when he sang.. And it was unbearable.  She looked at him with solid, dry eyes.

"No, Erik.  I won't sing for you anymore."  She said quietly, yet sternly.  His controlling smirk disappeared and was replaced with a frown and an arched brow.  "Is thaat so?"  He mocked as he took a step towards her, his hands behind his back.  

Christine didn't respond, but her glare that was full of defiance and power, angered him.  His face heated, though she couldn't tell with it being behind the mask, and his fists clenched and unclenched in a constant tempo.  "Christine."  He hissed her name as if it were a lovely bird, yet at the same time, a repulsive snake.  "Christine, you will do as I command.  Not because you fear me, but because you love me."  He said through clenched teeth.

She wanted to laugh at this.  What a curious notion!  To love him?  She ddi once, it was true.. Even in her vivid dream, it seeemed very realistic and very natural to love him.  But right now, the idea was so far away it seemed impossible.  "I do not love you, so your command is impossoble to obey."  She replied calmly, watching him with careful yet at ease eyes.

In that moment, Erik snapped, his animal like senses taking over as he lost himself in his anger.  He was so quick, Christine didn't even flinch.  One moment, she was calmly staring at him, her face pale in the candle light, but her beauty apparent, and the next she was being shoved.  Hard.  With strong arms that shook in anger.  Her hands searched for something to grab onto as she fell, but found nothing but the cold air.  

As Erik let go of her, he realized what he had done.  but it was too late.  A thud was heard and a low cry escaped Christine's lips.  Her vision was blurred but she saw the blood seeping onto the ground beside her and felt the warm substance ooze into her curls and down her face.  There was a soft ache in the back of her head, but it was nothing compared to the dizziness she felt.  

Erik stood over her, in shock at what he had done to his Angel.  He went pale, as pale as she was from blood loss.  His eyes scanned over her and in just a few seconds he knew the extent of her injuries.  It was clear in her paleness and the amount of blood on the floor that there was no way she would surivive.  She had a few minutes at best.  

Christine felt a warm body lift her gently and she realized her wet head was in someone's lap.  She squinted up, and saw Erik's mask, bright in the darkness, standing out like the sun.  She could feel herself weakening and this frightened her.  She had never been dying before but she was fairly certain this was what it felt like.  She didn't know if Erik had shoved her on purpose or had simplky lost it for a moment, but she didn't really care.  She was too tired and afraid to care.  She needed someone's comfort and Erik was the only one there.

Christine wanted to ask Erik to sing for her, to comfort her as she waited death, but before she could, she heard a voice.  A voice she had longed for for years.  She smiled to herself and shut her eyes as she listened to her father singing his usual lullaby.  A violin played in the distance, and it was almost as good as Erik's playing, but she liked it all the same.  

She took one last, peaceful breath as her soul left her body to join her father.

Erik watched her, horrifed at his own actions, and at her motionless body.  He shook the poor girl several times, jerking her frail body, hoping beyond hope that she would open her eyes and frown at him before spewing something about being set free and living her own life.  

He would give anything... He would let her go, he would do anything she asked if she would just get up!  But alas, she stayed in the same position, her body slowly becoming cold, and her joints slowly becoming stiff.  Erik let out a low wail as he buried his face in her bloody hair.  He didn't care that his face was now masked in her blood, he didn't care that her broken skull fragments stuck out of her head like broken glass.  

But one thing he did care about was the fact that he was here, and she was not.  What a horrid thought!  And what a terrible world it was without his beloved songbird!  His adored Christine!  Another decision was made.  

He gently set the girl's body on the cold ground and shot up, racing to his room.  In a black cabinet, he kept all of his private possessions.  One being  a tall, green glass bottle.  He smiled at his, his mind slightly damaged form the loss.  

He rushed back to where his "bride" was, and knelt beside her.  He put her head back in his lap, gazing at her lovingly.  He fumbled with the bottle, his intentions clear.  He would drink this hemlock, and hopefully join his Christine in whatever afterlife awaited him.  Hell would be better than this.  But his shaking fingers became an issue and he dropped the bottle, and it landed on Christine's chest.  the dark liquid splattered onto Christine's face, covering her lips and part of her chin. 

Erik cursed and stared at the liquid, an idea bursting in his dark mind like a flame.  He smiled to himself again and bent down, his joy amlost overwhelming.  His cold lips met her deathly ones, in a soft, dark kiss.  It was poetic in a way.  He always thought that her kiss would bring him life, but in reality, it would bring him death.  

He pulled away, still staring at her pale, beautiful figure in the soft light.  As he waited for death to take him, he sang for his Christine.  A song he had composed when he first met her.  A song about love and darkness and death.  It seemed only appropriate.  

Christine had once brought him life, but now she gave him death.  As he had given her death.  

As Erik slumped over, and the last note rang throughout the lair, the nearby candle snuffed out, along with the lives of the two lovers.