Work Text:
Erika could call what she was feeling only one thing: Joy.
She had brought, the night before, her dearest Christine down to her domain. Ah, even the thought of it had Erika’s heart racing happily.
She was in the kitchen of the house that was on the lake, five cellars below the opera house where Christine preformed and Erika regularly stalked. In the oven was bread, on the counter was cheese and meat and fruits that she had bought from the market that morning. That was the very first time she had felt so gleeful while interacting with the common people.
“Hello,” a scared, feminine voice called out, unsure. It could only be Christine. “Hello, Angel?”
Erika perked up, but scowled at the acknowledgment of being called Angel. She had told her to call her by her real name. Oh well, she thought as he walked out to the hall that connected to the rest of the rooms, and there Christine stood, like a fawn on shaky legs. When they saw each other, Christine paused, her eyes widening, her mouth opening and closing mutely.
“Who… who are you?” She asked, softly.
Erika grinned under her mask. Bowing, she said, “I am neither angel nor man, but a woman! Please, call me Erika.”
Christine blinked rapidly, like she couldn’t believe what was happening, who she was talking to. She took a small step back. Erika traced her every move, her mood lowering every moment they seemed to be in each others presence. “You-- Angel?”
“Yes,” Erika said solemnly, straightening up to her full height. “It is I, your Angel of Music. Welcome to my home, which is yours if you would like it. Are you hungry, dearest? I have food—”
A piercing scream rudely interrupted Erika. It took her a second to realize the sound was coming from Christine.
“Get away from me,” she shrieked, tears falling down her rosy cheeks. “Whoever you are, I do not know you! Get away from me!”
Annoyance flared in Erika’s mind. How dare this be the reaction her darling girl gave her? “You do not know me, you say?” Erika questioned, taking a step closer to Christine. Her dammed mask had no mouth hole, so everything she said was slightly muffled. She thought it would be the best mask to wear on this joyous occasion, as it showed nothing of her face, but now she was regretting it. “I am your angel, your teacher and mentor and friend, Christine. You may not know me,” she agreed easily, for it was true. “But I know you. I know you well. Please don’t fear me, I will not hurt you.”
Christine was whimpering, her eyes glassy from crying, and Erika felt like she had gotten shot. She reached a hand out, but restrained from touching Christine. She shouldn’t, as she was a corpse, and this reaction should’ve been the first scenario in Erika’s mind. But as she had thought Christine being somewhat naive, Erika herself is even more so.
“Christine,” Erika pleaded again, her voice cracking slightly. “Please don’t fear me. I love you.”
“You love me?” Christine asked, appalled. “You have lied to me more than I ever thought possible. I hate you!”
In the same breath, Christine ran back to her room, and slammed the door.
“I hate you, I hate you, I hate you! You lied to me! I hate you, Angel of Music!”
Erika fell to her knees, tears of her own streaming down her face. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen-- Christine was to wake and find Erika in the kitchen, curious and friendly about where she was and who she was with. Not-- not, angry, crying, upset.
With great strength, Erika found her way to her room, and there she stayed until she was pulled out of her despair.
A knock on her door woke her up. The fact that Erika managed a few hours of sleep was a surprise. She woke up from a dream, a dream of evilness consuming her, of her precious Christine hating her, despising her, vowing to curse her til the day she died.
When she woke, she thought with self loathing humor, that the reality of their situation wasn’t that different.
“Angel?” Christine called out through the door. “I need to speak to you.”
Erika contemplated what Christine would say to her before shaking her head. There was no outcome where Christine would fall into her arms, like she wanted. Better to check, though, and be sure.
Once they were face to face, Erika let Christine look at her again. She had swapped masks, this time going for her favored black leather one that had the drapes around her mouth.
“Hello,” Erika greeted. It gave her a great sense of relief to see Christine’s face normal again, no longer red and blotchy with tears that she had caused.
Christine stared at her in what could only be described as wonder, fascination. No longer fear and hatred. “You left the oven on,” was what she lamely said, before promptly closing her mouth.
“Oh,” Erika said, looking around. “Yes, I do smell the burning. I apologize.”
“I’m sorry,” Christine blurted out. Her eyes were wide again, and it took Erika off guard. “I’m so sorry, Angel.”
Erika grimaced. “My dear, you have nothing to apologize for. And please, I am not an angel. Only Erika.”
Perhaps the loathing that she felt didn’t leave as soon as Christine talked to her, because before she knew it, she stepped to the side of her doorway, letting Christine view her room. “This is where I slumber,” Erika said, rather ominously. When she caught Christine staring at the coffin in horror, she said, “One must always prepare for death when one looks the way I do.”
Before Christine could get a word in, or go farther than where Erika stood, Erika closed the door, a slam that served as a reminder to the both of them of what took place earlier.
They were in each others spaces, now. Christine was a great deal shorter than Erika, and she seemed to realize that as she looked into Erika’s golden eyes.
“Erika,” Christine breathed, and the way she said her name sent chills down Erika’s body. “Erika, dear, may we go someplace to talk?”
“Of course,” she replied, delighted that Christine really didn’t seem to hate her that much, now.
“Firstly,” Christine said once they reached the parlor, with Erika hanging back, watching the girl interact with her home. “I need to know that I am safe here.” A pause, and then, “With you,” she added.
“I love you, Christine.” Erika said simply. “I would never want to harm you or see you hurt.”
Christine eyed Erika warily. She chose to ignore the confession of her heart. “How old are you?”
That was not what she was expecting to hear. That was a question she herself had no answer to. “I’ve no idea,” she said honestly. “I never had a birthday, no one told me how old I am.”
“Curious,” Christine noted, a bit sadly. She walked around until she found a couch to her liking. Sitting down, she continued her questioning. “I would, eventually, probably soon, like to leave this place. You have a lovely home, but I fear I cannot stay here for long.”
Erika felt her eye twitch. “You will be staying, dear.”
Alarmed, Christine looked at her. “What?”
Erika found herself looming over the girl. “I said, you will stay here.”
Christine swatted Erika away with her hand, agitated. “Yes, I heard you well enough. What I ought to have said is why.”
“Well, the answer is rather simple. I want you here with me. Think of this house as yours, and think of me as your friend.”
Christine’s anger seemed to fade away. “You still want to be my friend?”
Now it was Erika’s turn to be speechless. “Whatever do you mean?”
“I called you all sorts of nasty names, earlier.” She sniffed, twirling her golden hair around in her fingers.
Erika almost wanted to laugh, but she restrained herself. “I deserved that reaction.”
Christine’s eyes were bright. She leaned forward and said, “so, I shall take my leave tomorrow morning then?”
“Ah,” Erika said, her mood growing darker once more at the thought of Christine leaving. “No, I don’t think so.”
“I will tell you this once, and only once,” Christine said seriously. It was the most tense she’d seen her, ever. “If you do not let me go, I will hate you, truly hate you.”
Erika felt herself grind her teeth together. “I will give you your freedom,” she managed to reply calmly, “after you stay here a fortnight. Two weeks is all I ask of you, and then you may leave, and come back only if you want to.”
“What about the girls,” Christine asked. “My parts to play, I cant miss rehearsal for two weeks!”
Erika allowed herself to laugh now. “Oh, child. You will still go up to the opera house and become the Diva I have been teaching you to be. Worry not about all of that. Everything will remain the same. The only difference is that during your evenings and nights… you shall remain here, with me. It will be quite pleasant, I assure you.”
“You will not harm me,” Christine stated.
“No,” Erika agreed. “No, I would sooner kill myself then hurt you in any way.”
“I… don’t say that kind of thing!”
Erika shrugged. It was true enough. There was, perhaps, for the first time, an advantage to being a woman. If Erika were a man, she could assume that Christine would be fearful of her life, instead of curious and wide eyed. The I love you’s would probably be taken much more seriously, and the tension between the two of them, however mild it is now, would be much worse.
“Dear,” Erika asked. “Do you mind if I sing you a song?”
Of course Christine would agree. In all of their times as Angel and student, Christine absolutely loved whenever Erika would sing. She said it was like being pulled out into the ocean, the waves lapping at your feet, the full moon out and bright. She did not disappoint with her answer this time, either.
And so Erika began singing, the act was second nature to her. Faust was lovely this time of year, and Erika sang like she had never sung before. By the time she finished the song, Christine lay on the couch asleep, her body unprotected and trusting. Erika pulled a blanket from the opposite sofa and laid it gently upon her. There wasn’t much else to do, and so with that in mind, Erika sat down on the floor, and watched.
There she sat, watching and gazing at this girl whom she loves, and a spark of hope filled her chest. She will get Christine to love her as she loves her in time. She will train her to reach soaring heights, and become the Diva that she was always meant to be. She will rule both heaven and hell, and she will have Erika right behind her, always.
For now, she will take what she can, and watch.