Okay guys! This is a bit morbid and a bit disturbing. Don't say I didn't warn you!
Disclaimer: I do not own The Phantom of the Opera or any of the characters within it. It belongs to Gaston Leroux.
It was crying again.
The Siren always cried at this hour of the night, its hollow and despairing wail echoing off the walls and ceilings. Christine's eyes opened wide, and she pulled the thick blanket up to near her pale lips, shivering from both the shattering noise and the ever-present frigidness of the underground abode.
She waited several minutes for the sound to cease, shuddering beneath the sheets in her thin cotton nightgown. Sometimes the noise stopped after a little while. As a torrent of chills raced down her spine, Christine prayed for the wail to stop. Oh! Please let it stop!
The Siren continued to moan, though, growing louder and louder with every passing second. Tremoring, Christine sat up in bed, clutching onto the covers until her frail knuckles turned white. "Erik!" she yelped, looking down at his sleeping form. "Erik!"
In the darkness, Christine saw the golden glow of her husband's eyes as they opened to stare up at her. The pitch black hid the rest of his skeletal visage. The yellow orbs blinked. "What is wrong, Christine?" he asked calmly.
"It is screaming again!" she cried breathlessly. "The Siren is hollering again. Please make it stop, Erik! Please!"
He tilted his head toward the sound and let out a sigh before turning back to his shaking wife. Taking a bony hand, he gently stroked it over her soft blonde hair in a soothing motion. "It will stop soon, Christine. Do not worry."
"But it won't stop!" she exclaimed, clutching his ice cold hand. "It never stops!"
Erik felt a feeling of weariness travel through his body as he looked upon his wife. Must he explain this to her almost every single night? Was she really so far gone? "Christine. You know how to make it stop. We have talked of this before, my dear."
She shook her head rapidly. "But that only makes it stop for a little while. The noise always comes back, Erik. It will never go away. Never!"
The cry now turned into a high-pitched shriek, reverberating throughout the house with unusual force. Erik closed his eyes and thought for a moment. Perhaps his wife was right. The sound would not leave on its own tonight.
"Christine. The...Siren wishes for something. Only you can make it leave. You know that."
"But I don't want to, Erik! I don't want to do it anymore. Please don't make me. Make the noise go away! Please make it go way!" She was near tears now, clutching onto his hand tightly and begging him for relief. From beneath her nightdress, he could see the steady throbbing of her chest as her heart beat in terror.
Erik stared directly into his wife's eyes for a moment before laying a gentle kiss to her soft forehead. He could really deny her nothing. "Very well, my dear. I will make the noise go away."
"Forever?" she asked hopefully, lowering the blanket from her quivering lips.
"Perhaps," he replied, climbing out of bed.
"Thank you, Erik!" she exclaimed. "Thank you!"
He merely nodded and opened the door to their bedroom with a slight squeak. Following the terrible sound to its source, he made his way through the darkness of the small home. With a yawn, Erik opened the door of the other room and looked around.
For many years, it had been his place of sleep. Of course, after Christine had agreed to wed him, he had eagerly moved into the more pleasing Louis-Philippe room with his beloved. Occasionally, though, he missed his old chambers...the black walls and the looming organ. His eyes finally settled on his former place of rest, the ornate canopied coffin in the center of the room.
Now...it held the source of the terrible noise.
Erik quietly strode over to the box and looked inside. A pair of glowing yellow eyes gazed up at him from the blackness, and the sound faded into an eerie silence. He wasn't quite sure what to say, for he had never gotten used to the small creature...only doing what was necessary for it to survive and hoping that one day his beloved would do the same.
That was not to be, though.
Christine had never taken over the sacred duty of motherhood. Only with her husband's gentle coaxing could he get her to feed it...dress it...tend to it. She still thought it to be The Siren, the poor child. Each time that she was forced to hold it, she became more afraid. Now, she wanted to be nowhere near it.
The Siren gave her dreadful nightmares!
"Be quiet," Erik finally commanded to the tiny, wriggling form. It silently stared up at him from the confining hexagonal box, tilting its head as if to study him. Perhaps they should have gotten a bassinet of some kind, yet the coffin had done well enough so far.
Feeling somewhat accomplished, Erik turned away and headed back for the door, eager to return to the warm embrace of his sweet wife. The wailing suddenly began from behind him again, causing him to cringe. From the other room, he heard Christine give a loud moan. "Make it stop, Erik!"
Whirling back around, Erik looked back down at the creature. "I said quiet!" he hissed down. The screaming continued, though, ringing almost painfully in his ears . Erik's twisted lips formed into a terrifying grimace. "Silence!" he snarled. "Hush!"
"Please, Erik!" cried Christine. "Please make the noise go away!"
The orchestra of the howling Siren and his wife's anguished pleas grated at him until his frigid body shook with insane fury. Taking one skeletal hand, Erik slammed the heavy lid of the coffin down with all of his might. The horrific crash ripped through the icy air, shaking the very foundation of the underground home...echoing on all sides of him for what seemed like an endless amount of time.
Breathing heavily, Erik stepped back and listened. The muffled cries of The Siren grew fainter with each passing second, before soon fading into nothingness.
After a moment of the welcomed silence, he turned and left the room, softly shutting the door behind him with a light click. He reentered the Louis-Philippe room to find his wife gazing up at him in almost a childlike way. "Did you stop it?" she asked meekly. "Did you stop it forever?"
"Yes, dear," he replied, sitting down and wrapping an arm around her slender shoulders. "It will not bother you anymore."
"Thank you, Erik," she replied, closing her eyes and drifting back into a dreamless sleep. Her body relaxed against him.
"You are welcome, dear," Erik said as he leaned back onto the pillow.
He really hadn't minded The Siren's presence. Occasionally, he had even enjoyed its silly antics.
But if it upset his Christine, it certainly wasn't welcome in his home.