Phantom's Fate 《Phantom of the Opera Fanfiction》

8

A/N: Closer and closer until the end is done! I'm super excited. College is starting back up in a week and I'm happy to finish this book before being swarmed with classes.

Enjoy the update!

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《Erik》

"The only thing I wish you to do right now...

...is to neither be seen, nor heard."

And so, it has been days since that encounter. She has been successful in neither being seen nor heard, and my words echo through my mind hauntingly. I must say, I'm actually impressed with how dedicated she is to her own feelings. Only a few times have I caught sight of her, and that was when we would cross paths to different parts of the house, or outside by the lake. When that would happen, she would keep her eyes down and turn away as if I weren't even there, and she would disappear for the night. The house became...very lonesome.

Over the past couple days, I wasn't entirely sure if she was even down here anymore, as I did not see her at all. Either she mastered avoiding me, or she found a way to the surface and fled.
It has really struck some thoughts deep into my brain. I keep recalling that night when had I snapped, my hand clasped on her shoulder and my voice harsh in her ear. I remember seeing her face blanch and her limbs tremor under me. The same fear in her eyes brought about a familiar, depressing memory; the look in her eyes mirrored Christine's the night I brought her here too. As different as they are, I somehow managed to strike the same fear into the both of them.

Which makes me believe I truly am hopeless.

"Was I not clear enough?"

I shudder at my own cruel tone. What have I done? This person--this girl who appeared out of nowhere and found me, who has pushed through everything just to speak with me. This is how I treat her? I truly am a beast, a monster. I degrade anyone who even looks at me, and I trash a chance to have one reliable constant in my life. Some random woman from the future who knows more about me than myself.
What...

What urges me to be so cruel to her?

Is it the hard determination she has at bettering my pitiful life? No, on a good day I would actually, maybe, appreciate such a gesture. Could it be her small womanly figure against my anger-fueled and prejudiced mind? Not possible, since I have no inclination for prejudice. Maybe...it is the uncanny resemblance she has to Christine, which reminds me, every time I see her, of the cold betrayal my 'angel' committed?

I drop my head into my hands. What is wrong with me? This must stop. If I am a monster, it is because people make me to be one. If I am a man, it is what others make of me... And here, someone is trying to defend my shred of humanity. Have I no human feelings whatsoever to be so cruel to a woman to drive her to avoid me like so? Someone so driven and confident, turned right around to pained and perturbed...

My empty chest starts to ache. I don't believe I've ever been this short tempered and harsh until...until Christine...when she tore my mask from my face. I have never felt so vulnerable, so crossed in my life, even when my own father left me to die. She took from me that night the only shred of dignity I had, exposing my vulnerability. I trusted that she would be kind and without curiosity, but she deceived me. And it resulted in her bearing the weight of my ugliness.

I rise from the edge of the bed and tear my mask off, just as Christine did, and toss it back onto the bed. My hands expose the single mirror from my drawer, and I stare at the ugliness before me. My hideous lips draw back in a snarl, and I shove the mirror back into hiding, holding my face in my hands helplessly. Alia has not even seen my face yet, and I managed to tear her apart. What good am I even alive? All I do is bring pain and sorrow! I clip the wings of even the most beautiful of doves. I am a walking sin.