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Mirror	By : BellaLaura Category: M through R > The Phantom of the Opera > AU/AR Views: 6356 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Phantom of the Opera, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 10
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- 12
A/N- Thanks so much for the kind reviews! *sends cookies to everyone...homemade! LOL....anyhoo here's the next chap

Sarah stood on the opposite side of the mirror once again, dazed by the sudden bright light streaming through the windows. She regarded her shaking form in the now still mirror, hearing the last words spoken by that damnable voice.

Go now! Go now and leave me!

Sarah ran.

If there had been any neighbors they would have been jarred from their relaxing Saturday by the squeal of tires. Sarah pressed her bare foot as hard as possible on the gas, the car jolting down the gravel driveway. At the juncture with the highway Sarah paused, unsure which way to turn. Randomly choosing a right turn, she sped away from the home that was to have been her haven.

Where do I go? What do I do? Oh God… who in their right mind would believe me? Do I believe it…or I am going crazy?

Sarah took another sharp right.

It has to be real. No one could have dreamt that up…

She turned left on the lake access road.

It has a name…

Her car came to a screeching halt as she pulled over in the shaded lot. Lake Pepin lapped peacefully against its shore, a vision of calm. Sarah ran her shaking hands through her hair trying to get a grip on herself. But glancing down she suddenly realized that she had run out of her house in the torn chemise and nothing else. Desperately she turned to the back seat, praying she would find her old gym bag still there.

“Thank God.” Sarah pulled it to the front seat and quickly pulled a pair of shorts and a T-shirt from the bag. Checking out the window and satisfied to find the road deserted, she pulled the shorts on, wincing as she moved. Shimmying out of the ruined chemise, Sarah pulled the T-shirt over her head.

She caught a glimpse of herself in the rearview mirror.

It has a name…

She tried to blink back tears before giving in, falling over the steering wheel in racking sobs. “Erik…”

~~~~~~~~

Sarah had no idea how much time had passed before she had exhausted herself crying. When no more tears would come, she wiped her reddened eyes and took a deep breath.

Maybe a walk will help clear my head.

She opened the car door and swung her legs out, realizing as soon as her feet hit the ground that she had ran off without shoes as well. Digging back into the faithful gym bag produced an old pair of flip flops, and Sarah shakily pulled them on. Closing the door and locking the car via remote, Sarah turned slowly onto the well worn lakeside path. Each step replayed events from the previous night in contrast with this morning.

What do you want? I want you

What do you want? Why an encore performance of last night of course
Do not be afraid, Sarah. I will not harm you.
Where have your inhibitions gone my dear?

I want to ride your amazing cock….You were quite willing in the dark, is it not as satisfactory when the face you can now see in front of you isn't as perfect as the cock that was fucking you?"
Sarah, do I not sound real enough to you? Do I not feel real enough to you? Do I not taste real enough for you? A face not of this world Why not simply treasure what fate has offered?
Horrid torture isn’t it my dear? To want such a thing to make you come? Then let me help you forget
Not before I get to savor you
Please…don’t stop Do not hold yourself back, give in
Touch me…god…please
My dear, I plan to carry you to the stars.
Will you stay…
Say what you desire Sarah and it shall be yours…
I simply take what I want
take what I want
take what I want

Sarah fell to her knees beside the water. "But you didn't Erik. You…did not.” She whispered in the solitude.

Alone. Alone again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Erik stood in the lair in a cold silence, stunned by the reality of what had just happened. He stooped to the floor, reaching to retrieve the mask that had fallen from his hand as he had raged against the woman’s small frame.

Monster.

He ran his thumb over the broad of the mask’s cheek, almost in a caress, before removing the leather that clad his hands. He tossed the gloves aside, oblivious as they dropped to the cool stone ground at his feet. His steps were slow as they brought him to the stand flanking the ivory bed that seemed now to stand alone in the lair.

Fear.

He opened the drawer and unfolded a black handkerchief that sat carefully tucked among the folds of cloth. The lair was silent but for his deeply controlled breaths as he made his way to the stagnant water of his lake.

“Always fear.” His voice broke into the air, heavy now in his mourning tone. His shoulders sloped slightly as he knelt at the shore, quietly dipping his handkerchief into the water.

Pale eyes followed the dampness as it grew steadily over the cloth in his hand, unblinking as he watched the water consume the garment. He blotted the wet kerchief on his pant leg before pressing it to the smudge that marred his mask.

“Damn you.” He murmured, the water creeping over the stark leather. His actions turned frantic as he dabbed the dry portion of the cloth over the leather, running his bare hand through his hair in frustration.

“Damn you!” he cried, hurling the mask across the sea of candles. It caught the wick of an unlighted stick and dangled precariously over the silent water. Erik’s breath caught as he took in this sight; it seemed to mock him, to dare him, to request of him. With a shout, he threw the kerchief over the lake; it pummeled through the air in a tight wad before parachuting out to flutter harmlessly to float at the water’s surface.

Jaw tightened, fists clasped at his sides, he turned his back on the sight and strode to his dressing table. A naked mirror, not unlike the mirror he had watched the woman through, stared back at him, meeting his cool gaze in silence.

Woman?

That voice in his head mocked him.

I believe, my fair friend, that you do mean women.

“My flesh…is not my heart,” he whispered, his head falling to his hands. He clutched his brow, palms flush against his eyelids. “What do you want of me? What do you ask?”

That’s all I ask of you…

Erik’s tears were real, cold on his skin as he wept. His hands fumbled on the buttons of his trousers as he struggled to fasten them, to forget what he had done and what had been done to him.

“Just…forget.” He spoke, setting back on his haunches. His knees gave out as he let free the lump that had plagued his throat, and he pressed his face to the cold floor as the sobs racked his body.

TBC
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