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Portrait of the Soul	By : sirenofsaturn Category: M through R > The Phantom of the Opera > Het Views: 2723 -:- 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
- 16
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Hello! Thank you all for reviewing! We passed 120! I never thought this story could go so far.
Erik: As long as we’re being honest neither did I.
/Glare/ Anyway, I’ve been really sick lately, and I was hoping that writing would swing me out of my slump. Perhaps the reviews will boost what little ego I have, and get me feeling like myself.
Erik: She’s a head case…She also owns nothing, except for any original characters and this fiction based story plot. Plagiarism or copying of this work will not be tolerated.
What he said, Please review no flames. Warning: Drug withdraw symptoms, and violent mood swings are ahead for the next few chapters. Not for the squeamish…however if you are familiar with Erik…it shouldn’t be a problem for most of you. His whole life story is as grotesque as it is beautiful. On with chapter…
Erik: Seventeen.
“You stupid fool!” Erik sobbed. “What were you thinking going to her in this state.” The unmasked man chocked. “It’s all over, you’ve lost another person who could understand. Probably the last one of your miserable life.”
The weeping artist lay curled up on his bathroom floor. The symptoms of withdraw vomited into a bowl. Erik’s body was no longer in control; his drug usage was almost gone, his addiction still ruling him. All he could think to do now was lay there. The last time he had tried to move the result had ended in muscle spasms, regurgitation, and a black out.
Only a week ago had Mia been in this very house. The meeting between Mia and Nadir had gone beautiful in Erik’s opinion. Now the Persian detective would but out of Mia’s affairs. As for Mia, she would no longer wonder about being stocked by Muslim missionary. After walking with Nadir to get his supply from Jules, he had returned to his home only to go right for the narcotic.
He could still feel the sting of the needle injecting the liquid euphoria into his bruised arm and collapsed veins. The almost orgasmic sigh the erupted from his lips. His could no longer be with Mia now, so he had to find another way to resolve his lingering feelings.
After his conversation with the Daroga, Erik fully intended to go to Mia the next day and come clean. Tell her of his addiction, and the effort he was making to end it. However, as the temporary cloud filled his mind he began to once again have doubts.
The morphine had been known to make Erik almost chatty; under its influence he would say anything he did not mean to speak of. What if he told Mia more than he was ready for? If the subject of Christine were come up…Erik wasn’t ready for that. True Christine was no more, but she was still a short important chapter in Erik’s long life. He fully intended to tell Mia everything…not now, one thing at a time.
Erik had waited two days for the drug’s hazy control to leave his senses. That was his last dosage until next week…then there was no more. If he wanted to tell Mia he should do it now, before his withdraw symptoms kicked in. He knew he would soon be a nervous sick weakling. He was reaching for his cloak when doubt filled him once more. He felt foolish enough for hiding things from her with all of her trust. He would feel even more like a fool if he were to barge into her room, and just tell her about the morphine. Erik suddenly felt he needed a reason, an excuse to see her.
Things were moving down hill. He never needed a reason before; they would just sit down and talk about anything and everything. Now he was forcing himself to find a reason to pay a visit to a woman he was beginning to think of himself as ‘involved’ with. When would this deceitfulness end? Feeling his lenient morals of right and wrong fade, Erik sought comfort and his first love.
Was it truly possible to lose two days to music? For Erik it was quite easy, this was the man who had claimed that his first six years of solitude below the opera had gone by in the blink of an eye. Rising from the organ, Erik started to shake. He was feeling weaker by the minute. He knew he should stay here until his next dosage. Going to Mia now would mean her seeing him in this state. Erik also knew that leaving Mia alone for almost two weeks would be cruel to them both. After their last good bye Erik had longed for her touch constantly. His only regret from their kiss was that he did not hold her closer. He longed for the feeling of a woman pressed up tight to him in a single embrace. They had held each other that way once before. When Erik had unmasked himself. Overcome from the swelling in his chest Erik grabbed his cloak and mask and headed immediately for the lake…
Making his way to the trap door Erik gave three brief raps. He waited through the hesitated pause before the pattern was repeated. Opening the trick, Erik rose up to Mia’s floor, waiting for the artist to make her presence. Mia soon appeared from behind the dressing screen. Her unbound chestnut hair flowing wildly around her nightgown and robe causing Erik’s, questioned, heart to skip a beat.
“Erik!” The Russian woman seemed to be glowing. “So good to see you, I was beginning to wonder. I know you didn’t say when you would return…but I assumed it would have been sooner. Is everything alright?”
Staring into the brown depths Erik debated on how to respond. “I’ve been preoccupied. I am sorry if my absence has offended you.”
“No! I understand!” Mia smiled. “Opening night is next week after all. You must have written to the seamstress because the woman finally came around. Although light blue is pretty common it’s the best hands down when compared with that tacky orange…Erik?” She questioned. This man who was always alive with awesome power was now standing quietly still. Mia was half reminded of one of her brother’s old toys that would wind down after the key was lost.
“Erik?” She tried again. Seeing his head jerk up, Mia was beginning to wonder about his well-being. “Are you alright?”
“Yes, fine. Just thinking.” He was looking past her now, breaking the eye contact they had become so familiar to using.
“Would you like some tea?” Mia tried.
“…No thank you my dear…you were saying? Please go on.”
He had never rejected her simple form of hospitality before. With this one visit he feared he would destroy all their progress and trust. Was he really going to sacrifice this? He was feeling more confused by the minute.
“Yes,” Mia hesitated. “…I want to show you something Erik.” Mia announced reaching for a scroll case she kept by her desk. “You don’t have to look at these now you’re welcome to take them with you! These are the sketches for my home.”
Erik’s gaze managed to focus on her at those words. “I started designing it sense I was six years old. I wasn’t till I was a teenager that I realized that I wanted to one day build this house and live in it…Seeing your home has inspired me so much Erik, you had a similar dream and brought it to life…I guess I just wanted you to see it…Maybe get your opinion if it’s not too much to ask. I would value it. Hold them as long as you want.”
Erik stood up abruptly causing the scroll case to roll onto the floor. “Your life’s dream? You would entrust something like that to me, why?”
“I told you I trust you Erik. What more proof do you need?” Mia asked confused.
“You shouldn’t! Do you hear me? Don’t trust me! Do you know what secrets I have kept from you, do you?” Erik shouted.
Mia stood from the bed. “I know you’re keeping secrets Erik! I will not pry! I trust that when you are ready you will tell me!”
“You fool!” Erik shouted grabbing her by the wrist and pulling her close to him. “Even when I am ready to tell you, that doesn’t mean I can! Your trust is in vain, you hear me? In-vain!” Stopping his rant abruptly Erik stared at Mia’s eyes. The brown orbs that held excitement moments ago were now clouded with something Erik was all too familiar with…fear. Erik released her immediately and fell to the floor at her feet.
“I’m sorry!” He sobbed. “Oh God! I’m sorry!”
“Erik?” Mia gasped looking down at him. “What’s wrong?”
“Forgive me, please!”
“Yes, yes! I forgive you!” Mia stared falling to her knees as well. Putting her hands on his shoulders, she tried to get a better look at him. He was beginning to shake and his breathing was now coming out in raged gasps. “Erik…you’re scaring me, should I get a doctor?”
“No!” The phantom gasped. “No doctors…they can not cure the disease that has consumed my mind. This cancer that eats away at my soul.”
“Erik…”
Shaking the said phantom stood, retreating to the trap door. “Forgive me Mia…and then forget.” Sliding through the opening Erik caught one last glimpse at Mia. Kneeling on the floor the bewildered woman stared, her down cast eyes focused on only one thing; the forgotten scroll case.
Opening his sunken eyes slowly Erik continued to lie on the floor of his marble bathroom. The cold floor and permanent silence his only comfort. “Stupid fool.” He whispered. “She was your last chance at happiness…and you hurt her…you deserve to lay here and never rise…” There was no greater sin in Erik’s mind then to hurt a woman. He had not only hurt, but betrayed her as well. He did not deserve death it was too easy, he deserved to die slowly and alone. This was the same fate he had chosen when Christine had left, history would repeat itself, except this time their would be no romantic interlude. When hell’s burning boat would arrive at his lake’s shore he would board it without a second thought. He would start another travel into darkness. He would travel as he always had…alone.
Yeah, like I said beware of mood swings…Two good things though. The next chapter begins another fork in the plot, and it’s very possible, with enough reviews, that it could be up tomorrow night!
Erik: Bribing the readers?
You bet!
Erik: I should have known…
Please review guys! They help me so much…especially when I’m sick and feeling crappy enough as it is! Tell me what you liked, and I’ll see if I can incorporate more of it into the story. No flames.
Erik: I wouldn’t worry about that…where’s my Punjab lasso?
/Hides it behind her back/ What do you mean?
Erik/pulls out a spare/
Damn…
- 16
- 17
- 18
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Portrait of the Soul