Hopeful Soul: A Phantom Story

Chapter Eight.

ERIK:

Much had gone into my plan for Christine. At some point, the spare room in my home would be hers and tonight, in our lesson, I would test her limits on the stage. She would be ready for life as a lead soprano and if anyone happened to interrupt, then perhaps a trapdoor trick would be in order.

I sat in box five, watching in humor as La Carlotta belittled Monsieur Debienne, "Debienne, my costume is in poor condition. There should be more sequins."

"Take it up with the designer, Carlotta. Please. I am overworked enough."

My lesson with Christine would take place minutes from now and they had to stop arguing sooner or later. I left the box and climbed up to the catwalk with a pair of scissors in my hand. Just as the self-absorbed diva began to go off, I snipped the sandbag and watched it fall, each of them going off in separate directions.

I chuckled at their fleeting, but then someone caught my eye. It was her, Christine, dressed in her white nightgown, "Christine."

I threw my voice in a singing whisper and heard her soft reply, "Angel?"

"Yes, my child," I threw my voice to her ear and she shivered, "Come to the stage. The lesson I have for you tonight is quite challenging."

She moved slowly to center stage, where she looked out into the empty chairs of the auditorium. Though, with a convincing description, those chairs could be filled, "Alright, my dear. Imagine yourself in the costuming of Marguerite. Every seat is filled with guests in their finest attire ready to see you succeed in the magnificent opera that is Faust," I could see her trembling from the catwalk and knew this indeed would be quite the challenge, "Now, sing. Sing for your crowd, to perfect your voice."

The poor girl was so hesitant in singing Marguerite's famous jewel song, but I suppose she could have potential. With some courage from her friend and with a more powerful way of teaching from myself, she could rid of the pompous diva in the time we have new managers. While courage was low, her voice seemed to be shaping into this beautiful call - she could almost be considered a siren.

I saw the gentle flicker of lights coming from the ballet dormitories and hid further in the curtained area of the catwalk. Her voice was, indeed, a sirens call. Five ballerinas, including her friend Meg, were intrigued by it and even Madame Giry. The older woman looked up to the catwalk as if she knew I was there. When Christine stopped singing and turned around to realize she had a small audience, she rushed towards the chapel.

I smiled at her bashfulness and followed closely behind through my trapdoor. In the chapel, I saw her trembling form and reached out through my voice, "You have done well, my child. Drawing small crowds at this hour is an amazing thing."

"A- angel. I do not feel well."

She went pale, her lips losing color. Her brown eyes went down a shade to an odd, gray color and finally, she fainted. I had no idea what to do other than help the poor girl, so I left the comfort of my hiding place.

Never had I been this close to her and it was somewhat new and frightening. I opened the chapel door and peeked into the ballet dormitory to notice everyone asleep, though I wouldn't take any chances. I poured a small amount of chloroform near every bed to be certain, my cloak held high just for good measure. I headed back to the chapel and attempted to prepare myself for the first time I would touch this beautiful girl - but it was pointless to prepare for something that even the smallest mind couldn't handle.

When I first picked her up, all the warmth in her body was a shock to my cold arms. Her cheeks had colour again when she slept and with how pink and rosy they were, I was almost tempted to steal a kiss. I couldn't bring myself to such lows, though. I used all the strength I had to carry her into the dormitory, though I wanted to enact my plan now. I would wait for the right moment.

I went inside the dormitories and laid her in the empty bed I assumed was her's. She shifted slightly when I set her down and I pushed myself into a corner, using my cloak to cover my masked face. She nuzzled into her pillow and I smiled again for just the forth time in my life. I didn't know what else to do other than watch her happy, sleeping face, knowing she could never be happy with me.

When I finally left the dormitories, the daroga stood right beside my trapdoor down to the fifth cellar. So be it, he would go down with me, "I saw you carrying her, Erik. Was that your plan? To get her to faint?"

"Oh, daroga. How unlike you to question my intentions. No. My plan has much more grandeur than that."

I jumped onto the trapdoor and each went gliding down to the cellars. The daroga turned to me for a moment, then looked to the empty lake, "I worry for her, Erik. You must be gentle to a gentle soul."