I walked through the deep swirling mist which surrounded us, resting her silent body resting in my arms. Christ, what a pair we made together. Christine, the sleeping beauty, and I, the masked beast. At that precise moment, I began to question whether what I was doing was right. If I had gazed in to those soft blue eyes, would she have stared back? I knew with all my heart that I loved her, but did she�? Or would she be no different to the others, and revile me with hatred and horror? Who knows? By the morning I would know. I just had to wait� I awoke early the next morning to venture to the theatre above the underground lake of my home. If Christine was to stay here with me, even for a day or two, she would certainly need food and drink. Living alone for the majority of my life, I had realised that I no longer needed to rely on eating and drinking to stay alive. I could go days, and sometimes weeks without it, and when I did, I would leave my home and go up and steal myself some provisions. I always believed myself to be a man of good taste, so (if this does not sound too foolish) I would only steal the finest. Before leaving, I chose to check on Christine. I had laid her down last night in the Louise-Philippe room, which I had now named Christine�s room. The door opened with a heavy sigh as I entered. She slept on the divan soundlessly, like a child. She had a content smile on her face, and as I crept over to her I sensed her expression change to feel cold. One of the many problems of living in an underground labyrinth near a lake is the absence of heating. From a side-chair I placed another blanket over her already covered body, and hoped she would be comfortable. I placed my old and pale hand against her soft cheek and sighed�She moved slightly, causing me to draw back in shock and surprise, in terror that I had awoken her. Luckily, the smile returned to her lips, and she slept. Resting my left hand against the stone wall, I blew out the candle and left like a dream� |
| The Mask George Part One: Erik |