Is Christine Still Good? (Claude Delacroix)

[Claude Delacroix]

He smiled and enjoyed Christine's poor, confused face. He loved the pain and distress she felt and it made him feel stronger, as if he were feeding on her fear. "Mad??" He repeated, taking her hand. "No, my child, not at all. You need only take it. Go on. You may take it anytime you wish. I'll leave it on the desk for you."

Father Claude listened intensely to the girl as he watched her become slightly disoriented; her eyes looked back to the apple with a longing desire. He smiled, knowing she was struggling with her own conscience. And he enjoyed it more and more. Now he was growing desperate. He wanted to hear more, he wanted to hear everything she had to say. For a moment, his black tongue slithered out to lick his lips before quickly retracting it... Had she seen it? Perhaps, perhaps not.

Cruel, she had said? But how cold this beautiful young thing be anything but cruel, he wondered. Yet she had been. She had betrayed a man, her 'Angel of Music', as she called him. It seemed strange. But he continued to listen to her tale as she described her happier time with Monsieur de Chagney. And then... She just one day woke up here? He knew they all were drawn to the manor but never knew exactly how they arrived here. He didn't listen much to the rest of her story but then... Rats? Hmmm, he would have to keep that little bit of information in mind for later.

Claude couldn't help but lean down to take hold of the poor girl's hands as she started to shake. "There, there, dear. There is no need for tears. You really are a very strong girl to be able to confess so much to someone you barely even know." And it was very true. All Christine knew was the facade which Claude only wanted her to see, not the real monster behind the mask. The Father held up one hand to make the sign of the Cross before the girl...

A big mistake! He groaned, his legs feeling weak as he stumbled back a ways. He managed to steady himself and smiled weakly at Christine. "I see," He sighed, struggling to stand back upright. "So you wish for penance? Is that it?..... Or is there more you have not yet told me, my dear?"

[Christine Daaé]

Christine was kneeling there, shaking and trembling like a leaf. Perhaps it was for the better if she ate the thing. Maybe she was hungry, and that was why she was shaking? But that wasn't like her one bit... in fact, often times she had skipped taking breakfast to get to the Opéra early in the morning, back in Paris when Erik was still giving her lessons..

Erik.... She let out a soft sigh. She did wish that she could simply find him and beg his forgiveness for how she had treated him, but there was still the chance that if he were to find out about the wedding, he would change his mind.... He had not broken his word yet, but after having nearly killed Raoul once already, she feared nothing more than he should discover and break it then.

Perhaps it was merely that she was too warm? She was wearing a winter jacket on over her nightgown and dressing gown, despite the fact that it was still late summer, not quite yet fall. “Forgive me, Pêre,” she said, beginning to unbutton the thing. “I.... I'm feeling a bit hot. This coat is too much...” What did modesty matter if she were to pass out there on the floor from the heat? She finished with the buttons and peeled the thing off, laying it to the side. She felt the cooler air from the inside of the room brushed against her sleeves and let out a soft sigh of relief. Something was still unsettling, but she did feel a bit better at least.

She smiled a bit when he told her that he did not think her to be mad at all. “That is very kind of you, but I truly would not blame you if you did. I'm honestly surprised I'm able to believe my own words at times... It just seems... odd. To feel so drawn to, yet at the same time utterly repulsed by a mere piece of fruit... Oh, I'm being selfish even considering taking it. You will need it for your journey back if you have come so far....”

She gaze up at him and he leaned over and took her hands. “You have been very kind to me, Pêre Delacroix, to even come here at all. Please, Pêre, I need to be able to speak. It has been so long since I've even been able to attend a real mass, and I do not know when the next time I will ever see a priest in this place is, much less one who can understand me at all. Everything is so strange and frightening here... And I do not understand the people in the village hardly at all!...”

She took one of her hands away to dry a few stray tears that had managed to fall as Pêre Delacroix made the symbol of the cross, but then, something unexpected happened. He stumbled back a bit of a ways and the girl could not help a brief moment of panic which came over her. “Pêre! Pêre, are you well?” She reached out her hands as if to help him, but he managed to steady himself, and so she withdrew then again, slowly.

He then asked if she wished to make a penance. “No, I.... I still have more to say actually.... Much more.... I'm so sorry.... Would you like me to go open the window? Perhaps the fresh air would do you some good. You seem a bit ill still... I can make you that tea when we are finished if you would like. I would not want you to make yourself even more sick...”

[Claude Delacroix]

The priest kept his eyes fixed on Christine. He watched how she continued to look at the apple. Was it hunger or desire that made her gaze upon it with such longing? It was, in fact, an apple from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil, the very tree from where he first tempted Eve.

Claude listened to the girl's sigh. She had a different look about her; a look of sadness and desire. She longed for something, something she hadn't voiced. He leaned back now and kept looking at the girl. He watched her remove the winter coat she had over her nightgown. A low growl emitted from his throat as he watched. His eyes roamed over her young body as he studied her movement like a predator stalking its prey. He started to forget about the confession (not that he had really been paying attention anyways) and focused more on Christine's form. The priest gripped his fists against his thighs and cleared his throat to cover up a groan as he watched her.

"By all means, my child. You may remove the coat. After all, this is your room," He inhaled deeply and stood up. "Now, as far as penance is concerned, I am sure you know what you tell me is protected by the Seal of Confessional. Therefore, I am obligated to keep all that we share confidential. I cannot disclose anything to anyone else or that would breech the… Intimate details of the confession."

Claude managed to smile as he took hold of Christine's hands. His manicured nails scrapped against her skin gently and in a slightly disturbing manner. He kept his focus on her as he shook his head in reassurance. "No, no, my dear. Please, there is no need to apologize. I insist that you take it." He reached over and grabbed up the apple, almost shoving it in the girl's face. "Take it…" That 'Take it' was very forced and authoritative, as if he were try to control her. He had to try and get her to taste the apple. If not, he would have to eat it himself. And she would not want to see that, oh no! But… If push came to shove…

That was when the priest attempted to bless her but he faltered and stumbled. He felt his eyes grow dark, forcing him to turn away from Christine. "Please," He hissed, his body feeling weak. "Do not touch us…" He could no longer hold back his darkness any longer. His Hyde was beginning to overtake the false Jekyll his was attempting to keep shown. But he managed to fight it as the demons started to become restless again.

Before Christine could even step towards the window, it flew open and a large gust of air blew through the room and knocked over the small tonic bottle that had laid upon the desk. Claude's eyes snapped open as he saw the bottle shatter upon the ground.

[Christine Daaé]

Christine was hardly listening as the man spoke when she removed her coat. She had begged his pardon more as a courtesy than waiting for actual approval to do so. She did not notice him watching her, nor did she think much of him clearing his throat, simply assuming that it had to do with his nasty cough he seemed to be having. “Yes, Pêre Delacroix, I am quite familiar with the Seal of Confessional. Neither of us are allowed to reveal what was said or occurred during the confession... But I am not yet finished confessing...”

The girl looked back at him when he took her hands. His nails brushed against her skin, which made her tense a little. She gently tried to take her hands away from him, but was suddenly quite startled then he practically shoved the apple in her face and demanded she take it. In fact, she was so startled that she fell backward entirely and stared up at him, trembling a little. What was wrong? She didn't understand why he had suddenly seemed so firm, and frankly, it rather frightened her.

What frightened her even more though was the way he reacted when she tried to help him after he fell as well. 'Do not touch us…' he hissed at her. Us? “I.... I'm sorry? I was only trying to help. I didn't mean any harm...” The girl couldn't help her voice trembling as much as she as. Something was most certainly not right here and she was beginning to feel more and more uneasy about it.

Christine dragged herself across the floor a little to the bed and used one of the posts to help pick herself up off of the ground before going to the window. Perhaps some air would do them all some good... She had just reached her hand out to open it, when the window opened entirely on its own and a strong rush of air swept into the room. Christine quickly shielded her head and closed her eyes, trying to prevent her recently brushed hair from blowing everywhere. What in the world was going on!? And then suddenly...

CRASH!

Christine's eyes flew open and she looked to see that the bottle of tonic had fallen from the desk and shattered on the floor. “Oh dear.... I... I'm so sorry, I'll clean that up right now.... Umm....” She glanced around and found a handkerchief she could use to sop up the syrupy medicine, and then set to work carefully picking up the shards of glass with her fingers.

“Ow!” The girl let out a small cry and looked down at her hand. She had cut the bottom palm-side of her left index finger and a little stream of blood slowly began to trickle down and form a little red pool in the palm of her left hand.

[Claude Delacroix]

Claude smiled and bowed his head. "Very good, my dear. I am sure that you will be revitalized and your soul restored. You have done well; the L-…" He paused and growled softly, a bit more dark bile bubbling up in his throat. "He is most pleased with you, my child… Please, do go on. Confess all that you wish." He watched Christine with renewed interest. She really was very beautiful and she would be a most delicious treat for him. Not now, but soon. Very soon.

He released Christine's hands and continued to smile at her. Claude stared deeply into her eyes, as if studying her soul. He continued to wonder how she would taste. Sweet? Savory? His mouth watered even more as he licked his lips. He withdrew the apple and decided that enough was enough. "You really want it, don't you?" He taunted… With that, he stared straight into her eyes, opened his mouth, and out slithered a long black tongue. It reached out and encircled the apple, drawing it into the priest's open jaw.

He slowly looked up and grinned wickedly at the girl. He could no longer hold back his darkness as his eyes widened. "We do not like it when you touch us, holy girl!" He panted and huffed like a furnace, as if his throat was filled with fire and brimstone. He snarled and the demons cackled deep within the corners of the manor. The sound of the cackling made him want to lash out and chastise them. He growled and turned his head away from her again.

His eyes snapped open and he stared directly at the broken bottle as Christine went over to it. He gazed in curiosity as she began to clean up the mess and pick up the glass. Suddenly, he saw the poor thing cut herself on a shard of the broken bottle. His gaze was now fixed upon the bubbling blood on Christine's finger. He could not suppress a shudder as he licked his lips hungrily. Then came the smell. Mmmm, that sweet, copper-like scent drove him mad. He reached out and grabbed her hand to bring the bleeding finger up to his lips.

His breath was cool and slightly smelled of death as he took her finger in his mouth and sucked away the blood.

[Christine Daaé]

Christine's clear blue eyes widened in terror as the man's jaw opened and a serpentine tongue slithered out and enveloped the apple, drawing it in to be consumed whole within his jaw, similar to the way a python would swallow an egg. Whoever – whatever – set there before her was clearly not human. What was happening in this wretched place? The thing continued to speak.

We do not like it when you touch us, holy girl!

The way he looked at her, smiled at her, made her shudder. Her hands shook as she continued to watch him in utter terror, in spite of how much she desperately wished to turn away from the horrifying sight. His breathing reminded her of the bellows for the large furnaces beneath the Opéra House, where she often though she saw demons, poking up the flames and the coals with their shovels.

She continues to almost absentmindedly fumble with the shards in an attempt to move them, all the while the little trickle of blood dripping across her hand where she had cut it. She didn't understand what was going on here, and almost thought that it could all just be some horrid nightmare, but it all seemed so real. It felt too real...

Suddenly, she felt him seize her hand, and she could not help but to let out a shriek in terror. Her lips quivered and she could not help a few distressed tears escaping from her eyes. She watched him bring her bleeding finger to his lips and felt the cold stench of his breath brush over her skin before he put her fingers in his mouth and sucked away. The smell of his breath reminded her faintly of rotting corpses, the same exact scent of the bony moist hands she's felt over her moth when Érik had first taken her.

She was almost afraid to move her hand, for it was in that thing's moth, and she would most certainly prefer that it, along with the rest of her, remain intact and attached. She took a new shallow, panting breaths. “Please... please, I don't know what you are, or what you are doing, but please, please let go of me....”

[Claude Delacroix]

The monstrous thing kept his eyes locked onto Christine's as if hypnotizing her with his intense gaze. After he had swallowed the apple, Claude gave the girl a wide, Cheshire cat-like grin. He enjoyed putting on his theatrics to scare humans and prepare their souls for harvesting. There was no grim reaper, HE was the only true master of pain, death, and temptation.

But then he had nearly collapsed when she cut herself, his eyes changing ever so slightly. He slowly stalked towards the girl and held onto her hand as he looked into her eyes. He needed to take a soul and it had to be soon! And she was so delicious looking; her soul was young and corruptible.

He gripped her hand tight and sucked at the blood. Just a taste, a little taste! He growled like a hungry dog as he pulled back and licked her bloody palm. It was so sweet and delightful as the priest gave a low, almost erotic moan of pleasure. Finally, he pulled back and sighed, a small string of black saliva connected his tongue to the girl's bleeding finger. "WE want more!" He licked his lips and turned to grab Christine by her shoulders, forcing her against the back wall.

His dark eyes penetrated into hers again and he gritted his teeth, growling and hissing as he leaned towards her ear. "We hunger! We must feed! Your soul is perfect; ripe, succulent, seductive! Give it to us!" His hands dug into her shoulders, his nails almost penetrating her flesh as he became more and more desperate.

"GIVE IT TO US!!!"

[Christine Daaé]

Christine cringed and gave a wince in disgust, gagging a bit as he licked the palm of her left hand. She could watch no longer. The sight was utterly repulsive and revolting, and the slimy feeling of his saliva caused her skin to crawl. The moan that came along with it wasn't any more comforting.

She couldn't help but to cry out again when he grabbed her shoulders and forced her against the back wall His dark eyes met hers and she squeezed her own shut in terror. Her soul? That was what this beast wanted?

How did it always seem that the worst things one could find in this place managed to find her within the walls of her chambers? And this time, she had been foolish enough to let the terrors in on her own. Oh, this time you've really gotten yourself into trouble, Christine...

“Get out of here,” she managed in a quivering voice. “Get out of here or else..... or else you'll regret it!” She wasn't quite sure what to do – she wasn't sure what she could do – but she certainly wasn't about to just give up her soul.

[Claude Delacroix]

Claude kept hold of her shoulders, his once dark eyes now slowly softening... He retracted his hands in a flash and began to shake. "I-I-..." He looked at his hands and coughed again. More black blood spattered upon the floor as his eyes rolled back in his head... And then he crumpled to the floor and began to convulse!

He was having a seizure (at least that's what he wanted Christine to think) and finally started to relax and come out of it. He gasped loudly and coughed, slowly turn over in his side as he struggled to get up on his hands and knees.

"F-Forgive, me," He croaked, frantically clearing his throat. "I-I am sorry you had to see me like that... I didn't mean to-... I-I didn't want to! Please..." He got up on his knees and extending a trembling hand to her. "I-I never meant to frighten you, my child."

[Christine Daaé]

Quite suddenly, Christine felt her arms released, and her eyes flew open to see what had happened. Had it really been so simple? Was he leaving? Hesitantly, she opened her eyes and saw him coughing and convulsing on the ground. her hands few over her mouth and she gave a gasp. What was happening here? She stared down, watching him, dumbstruck. She wasn't sure whether she should run or should do something to help him.

She was still trembling when he slowly struggled to get up on is hands and knees and then began to speak. He managed to get up to his knees and held out a hand that was shaking (with fatigue it seemed from his weary appearance after the seizure), and pleaded to her that he did not mean to frighten her.

The girl felt a sinking in the bottom of her stomach -- a sinking of guilt mixed with pity. "You poor, poor man...." It seemed that he must have had some sort of dark force possessing him, so as he was no longer himself, nor was he able to control his own actions. After a brief pause, she knelt down in front of him and took his hands in her own. "I... I am so sorry, Pêre Delacroix. I did not realize... Oh dear.... Please forgive me. Oh Heaven! Oh Heaven, what can we do? I... I should go make you that tea. That's what I should do. You must rest..."

She stood and slipped on a pair of slippers, then gestured, offering to assist him to his feet to sit somewhere more comfortable than the glass-covered floor.

[Claude Delacroix]

Claude's eyes rolled back and his fingers flexed almost painfully as he gurgled and groaned. The pained expression on his face slowly melted away as he finally started to relax and come out of the seizure. He arched his back, the bones cracking as his body twisted at an unnatural angle before slumping back onto the floor.

After a few moments of laying almost lifeless on the floor, the priest gasped and bolted upright as his chest heaved. He placed a hand over his heart and struggled to calm himself down. He looked up at Christine, his eyes wide and filled with confusion. "I-I'm sorry you had to see that."

He was a good liar, a very good liar. The snake of a man frowned sadly up at Christine as he watched her pity him... It was almost sweet, if he had a heart, that is. His hands shook and twitched as she took hold of his hands. He even forced himself to shed a few tears to keep up the charade.

"P-Please, my child," He murmured shakily, his breath catching in his throat. "Do not worry about me. I will be fine, I promise. This-... H-Happens from time to time. I am sorry if I frightened you."

"Y-Yes, perhaps you are right. I should rest." He placed a hand upon his head and sighed deeply. Claude looked around and saw the bed. "Thank-you, my dear. Perhaps a moment's rest will replenish my strength." He held onto Christine as she helped him to the bed. "You are most kind."

[Christine Daaé]

Christine helped the man to the bed to rest, giving him her shoulder to hold onto for support should he need it. “Please, Pêre Delacroix let me help you. I do not mind it at all. I shall return with some tea, though I must apologize in advance. It will not be a proper tea, I am afraid. I do not have any means of heating water in here other than using the hot water from the tap..”

She gave him a reassuring smile and squeezed his hand a little once he was seated, before turning and going into the washroom where there was a sink where the water was warm. She began running the tap, so as to let the water heat up and so that she could wash the cup she kept in there before using it to serve the tea. “I am afraid I don't have any means of keeping the tea itself together. It is a loose tea... I hope you do not mind.”

She finished rinsing the cup and then filled it with hot water and spooned in two teaspoons of the loose tea. She then brought it back into the room and set it on the bedside table for him. “Do you take sugar at all? Or honey? I have both if you would like either.”

[Claude Delacroix]

The priest groaned softly as he staggered to his feet. His face was pale and he looked even weaker then before. He looked up and balanced himself with Christine's help as he sat upon the bed. The dark circles under his eyes looked even darker and deeper than earlier. "Thank-you, my child," He murmured, looking away from her in shame. "I-I am terribly sorry you had to see that. I really am."

He pulled his hand away out of sheer worry after she had been so shocked by the cold of his palm. He curled his hand into a fist and cradled it in the other. "I hope I did not frighten you too terribly." He looked over and watched as Christine went to the washroom. In the meantime, the demons whispered praises him for how he had tricked the girl so... He smirked proudly but then that smile faded as the young woman came back into the room. He only smiled and shook his head. "Not at all, my dear. I am just grateful for all you have done for me."

Claude watched as she filled the cup with hot water and added the tea. His eyes followed the cup as Christine set it down on the table beside him. Do you take sugar at all?... He grimaced and suppressed a gag of disgust. Sugar? Honey?? He quickly held up a hand and shook his head. "N-No," He managed, clearing his throat. "I do not partake in sweets, not even in tea or coffee."

[Christine Daaé]

Christine bit her lip, looking down when Pêre Delacroix told her that he did not partake of tea at all. “Oh...” she said simply, setting the cup down on the desk and then sitting in the chair there.”I... I'm so sorry. I should have asked you beforehand... I only wish that there was some way that I could help you....”

The girl let out a soft sigh and then managed a pleasant smile. “Do not worry about me. I have seen far more frightening things than most people would expect to see in a lifetime... I feel selfish for asking you this, but... are you well enough for me to continue my confession? Or would you prefer we just ended it now. You must be exhausted....”

She hesitated a bit before continuing. “I am a bit curious though. I hope you do not mind my asking at all, but... how long has this been happening to you? Have you tried at all to get it to stop?... I know it may sound silly, but... not so terribly long ago, I had the misfortune of.... encountering a demon within this place. I managed to frighten him away though and... I was wondering... if perhaps the same thing might work?”

[Claude Delacroix]

"Oh! No, my child, I only meant that sugars bother my stomach." He reached out for the teacup and brought it underneath his pointed nose... No smell of sugar, thank Go-. No, not Him!... Thank goodness, that was it. He took a quick sip and set the cup and its saucer back upon the table. He quickly shook his head. "Please, my dear, you have done more than enough already. I could not ask anything more of you."

Claude smiled and gave a solemn nod. "Then you are a much braver and more spirited young woman than I had thought... Please, do go on. I just needed this moment to breathe and rest. I feel well enough to continue on. I hope I did not make you lose your 'train of thought', so to speak."

But then she paused, hesitated... Was she becoming curious now? He hoped so. Claude tilted his head a bit when she asked how long he had been afflicted with this.... condition. He gave a dramatic and deep sigh before shaking his head. "I am afraid this condition has no proper diagnosis or form of cure. It has been my curse for all my life." He tilted his head a bit more when Christine opened up about the 'demon' she had encountered. That was Charles, of course, and he knew it. But he dared now tell her how he had become that way when she had seen the ghost. He only nodded as he listened to her... Then he quirked an eyebrow. "The-... Same thing?" He questioned. Oh, how he hoped she would not honestly try that! He did not want her to see his entire true form just yet!