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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
- 7
- 8
- 9
Chapter 7 In just a moment

But first, some Heathers background: (this is the movie Sarah fell asleep to in ch 4)

JD and Veronica have a warped romance going on, and he's trying to get her to join him in his insanity. He manipulates her into killing the most popular people at their high school, and she is constantly struggling to resist his hold over her. Totally a love/hate thing going on, or a the very least lust/hate. At the end of the movie, Veronica and most of the student body are at a pep rally. Veronica ducks away and finds JD in the boiler room with a bomb. He has planned to blow the school up during the rally, killing them all as they are gathered in one place. She gets him to shut it off, saving the school from his destruction.

They walk out of the boiler room, go outside- where he shows her he has a bomb strapped to his chest."The slate is clean," he says. "Pretend I did blow up the school -all the schools. Now that you're dead, what are you gonna do with your life?" And then BOOM.

Chapter 7

The dankness of the passageway seemed even more intense against Erik’s sweat dampened body. He quickly made his way down the corridor, every step and turn an attempt to distance himself from what had just happened.

What the hell was I thinking? Erik grimaced as he moved into the back entrance of his lair. He walked quickly to the decanter of brandy and poured a liberal draught. I was thinking with the only part of me that hadn’t been used in thirty odd years.

He brought the glass to his lips and then cursed as the alcohol burned his lips. Running his tongue over the offended surface he could feel the torn skin where Sarah had bit him. Erik closed his eyes, groaning at the remembrance of her tight body around his cock. He could still hear the sounds that came from her lips as she edged ever closer. He still tasted her skin, remembered the texture of her nipples as he had sucked upon them, the smell of sex that had permeated the room as they strained towards climax.

The sound of crunching glass brought Erik to the present. His eyes flashed open as the glass cut into his hand, the brandy spilling upon the stone floor. He dropped the offending object and quickly regarded his hand.

That’s all I need… damage one appendage because I’ve lost control of another. He grabbed a cloth and relaxed upon seeing a rather minor cut on his palm. For a few moments the mess provided a welcome distraction from the world Erik had hastily exited. With the clean up of the room completed, Erik decided that the same process upon himself would help calm his restlessness.

He moved into his bedroom, lighting a candle just for the sake of it rather than the need for illumination. Meticulously he removed his cloak and coat, hanging them up in the wardrobe. Removal of the white mask brought instant relief to the irritated skin beneath it.

The rumpled white shirt did not receive such care. After a few buttons were loosened Erik yanked it over his head and tossed it on the floor, noticing as he did so an unfamiliar soreness. Something must have happened when I stepped through the mirror…maybe the lightning.

He rotated his shoulders, but it was not the same ache as when he fell asleep composing. Unaware of any injury other than the cut due to his own clumsiness, Erik reluctantly moved out to the covered mirror. Removing the cloth from the glass, he reflexively closed his eyes.

Monster.

Devil.

Demon.

Erik steeled himself and opened his green eyes, now ready to quickly evaluate for any injury. Avoiding his marred face, his jaw dropped at the sight of the red marks upon his chest. He turned and was immediately educated as to the reason for the soreness in his shoulders. Sarah’s nails had left their mark.

So did her teeth, Erik thought with some amusement as he noticed the imprint upon his skin. A glance at his face sobered him instantly. And what of her body? You took her… you monster…hiding in the dark…knowing she would run in an instant should light shine upon this face. Such pride in your restraint….where did it go?

Erik gritted his teeth and threw the cover over the mirror. I’ve got to forget…

He walked over to the instrument that took up most of the main room. Sitting at the organ, he hoped to find the familiar aphrodisiac of his music. I can forget.

A melody formed under his fingertips before Erik realized it was the same that he had sung Sarah to sleep with. Instantly his mind’s eye pictured her sleeping form upon that couch, tempting him from her dreams. If she hadn’t moaned in her sleep, touched herself, this would not…

He banged his hands upon the keys, a discordant chord echoing loudly upon the stones. Don’t make excuses for your lack of control Erik…no one told you to stay and watch her. To go and kiss and caress and fuck…that was your doing.

“Damn it!” He yelled to the room as he stood abruptly. “Why should I feel guilty for taking what was freely offered? She didn’t deny me!” Erik raged at the empty cavern that was his home.

You ran, you coward, the taunting voice whispered to him.

If you were so sure of her willingness why leave?

“I left a note.” Erik whispered brokenly.

Look in the mirror for your answer…you know why.

“She wasn’t afraid.”

Devil….your own mother couldn’t stand the sight of you.

Erik ran his hand over his marred face.

Why wouldn't she fear you? The voice taunting him seemed to be a collective of all the ones he had heard through the years.

Erik walked to his bed, and fell upon it.

“Yes.” He spoke to the consuming darkness. “Why wouldn't she?”
~~~~~~~~~~

Alone in her bed, Sarah dreamt.

Breath in her ear. In and out, a heavy sigh filled the room. She opened her eyes and turned to the darkness that lay in her bed beside her. Nothing. Emptiness. But the sighs continued, breaking into a thick pant so vivid, so earnest in its plea. Her arm stretched to the expanse of sheet at her side, her palm exploring the bare cotton in long strokes that began to match the rhythm of the voice she heard.

Her eyes sought the source of the sighs, but as they quickened in intensity she felt her lids fall shut, the small of her back lifting slightly from the bed.

Sarah.

She spread her legs as the voice breathed her name. Her hand traveled from its placement on the bed over her abdomen as she lay.

Where are you?

She could not speak; the words formed in her throat but she could not expel them from her lips.

Yes.... Sarah.

Once more her name, punctuating the short pants. She arched again in response, seeking a touch on her flesh that never came.

Give in.

Her legs opened wider, hands clutching the sheets at her side. The breath continued, breaking into a ragged gasp as her body undulated to its sound.

I am not a ghost.

A lone candle illuminated the darkness before her, exposing a concrete and pipe network. Sarah sat up in her bed, peering into the new light in an attempt to identify her surroundings. The breath was gone, the room was silent but for the steady dripping coming from above.

She pushed her bedding aside, cautiously stepping to the floor one foot at a time. Her bare toes touched cold cement, and she drew her foot back in hesitance.

Sarah paused, then climbed from her bed, creeping toward the source of the light. She looked back at her abandoned nest, the tall posts of her bed slowly fading into the background of the boiler room.

A man crouched below a sea of wires, his long black coat shrouding his frame as he worked on the array of electric output before him. His dark hair fell over his face as he looked up to her approaching form.

As he stood to greet her, his coat fell open, revealing the explosive capsule strapped to his own chest.

I am not an angel.

The man lifted the candle, unflinching as the hot wax pooled over his skin. The nearing light illuminated one side of his face, and Sarah made out a faint half smile directed at her. Her head tilted slowly, leaning into his gesture, a small smile of her own beginning to form over her lips.

He swung the light down, slowly, as if highlighting his actions, and poised his finger over a flashing red button displayed on the gear fastened over his frame.

Her face froze, fixing the tentative smile to her lips in horror. She tried to back away, to call out, but her feet were fixed, her voice locked in her throat.

His smile spread, reaching across his face as eyes followed his lips. She trembled as the candlelight spread across his face, his features morphing under the waving light. Her throat clenched as she recognized the marred face, once more lit up by a pale light not of the sun. This face itself could not be of the sun, could surely be only of darkness.

I am Erik.

He pushed the switch, and the room exploded.
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Mirror