RS: Well! All of a sudden I got a whole bunch of reviews and follow for Sugar High. I... admit I was really surprised about that. And I'm really, really sorry for starting a new story, but I couldn't get this one out of my mind. In regards to Sugar High, I will begin writing again. However, it's been...seven months, I think? And it'll take some time for my to get the story going where I want it to again, if that makes sense. I do hope I can finish it though. Anyways, here's my new story, which was inspired by I Dreamt I Dwelt In Marble Halls. Before you go on thinking you can guess the plot from the opera it comes from, let me just say I have no idea what the story for The Bohemian Girl is, though one day I'd like to take a listen to it.
No one in the audience could deny that Christine Daaé's Marguerite was the best they had ever seen. It was her first time in the role since the gala, even though many had wished to see her on the night when Carlotta lost her voice. It was certainly worth the wait, however. Now, at the start of act five, the audience eagerly awaited the next appearance of the new Marguerite.
Two audience members, especially.
Raoul de Chagny tapped his fingers impatiently in his private box. It made him feel better to see Christine on stage, where he knew she was safe. When he could see her, he could relax. And, as soon as the opera was over, he could finally take her away from this place, and see to her safety elsewhere. Sweden, perhaps. She had always loved Sweden...
Concealed from the performers, the Opera Ghost also awaited Christine's next appearance. Erik would take her away... Yes, he would whisk her away before the end, for no should be expecting it. Christine would become his bride before the end of the night... before the end of the opera! Erik's eyes rested on her form in the wings. Soon, and Erik shall be a married man!
Soon, yes. Raoul sat forward in his seat. He was familliar with the story of the opera. Soon, and Marguerite would appear in a vision to Faust. Ah! No other could compare to Christine, who was a vision in ordinary life.
Dawn was approaching. This was when Raoul would see his Christine again, and be assured of her safety. Then the prison scene, and the opera would finish, and the two of them could leave forever. Raoul wondered at how their life after the ordeal would be. If Christine wanted to continue singing, he wouldn't stop her. He cared not what the gossip would say, though he hoped Christine would not be offended. Then again, maybe they would leave France forever, and there would be no one to gossip about them. He would change his name. They would start again, far away. He smiled dreamily and turned his attention back to the opera.
A light grew brighter in the corner of the stage. Raoul felt his heart flutter in anticipation of Christine's entrance. Faust turned, the light shone to its full brightness, and a collective sound of confusion rose from the audience. Where was Marguerite? Where was Christine? Raoul stood up in his box, terror evident in his eyes. His brother glanced at him in confusion and shock.
"You meant to run off with Christine. Where has she gone?" he pressed. Raoul shook his head hopelessly.
"I don't know! He must have taken her. I shall never find her!" As he said this, Raoul flew from the box into the hallways, intent upon finding Christine safe and unharmed. The managers refused to help him, busy with some investigation involving a safety-pin, the police laughed him off, and the stage hands merely rolled their eyes, obviously grouping him in with the countless others who had approached seeking news of the missing soprano. He pushed through crowds of performers, not even sure of where he was going or what he was hoping to do. A hand took hold of his arm.
Raoul looked into the green eyes of the Persian. "Erik has taken her."
The Viscount fell to his knees and wailed Christine's name, a performance worthy of the stage. If the nobleman had not been so upset by the recent events, and he cannot be faulted for being upset, then he might have heard the shriek of a chorus girl. A blonde chorus girl, to be precise, who had a build similar to that of Christine.
The girl had befriended Christine in the days before the "angel" visited her, after which Christine distanced herself from all company. Before the opera began, she had been asked by the soprano herself to switch costumes with her in the confusion between acts four and five, and to stand off in the shadows somewhere. When question later, the girl revealed that Christine seemed upset and desperate to leave, and, pitying her for whatever had happened, the chorus girl quickly agreed to help her old friend. She also recounted seeing a dark shape pass before her after Christine's disappearance was realized, and reported feeling something close around her neck before vanishing.
It would be several months before the police would learn what happened to the young soprano.
Erik stormed out of the Opera, anger and fear battling for dominance. Christine left, and he felt anger. Christine left without the boy, and he felt confusion. Christine left alone, and he felt overwhelming fear. He appeared suddenly in front of the driver of the nearest brougham and grabbed him by the collar.
"A woman. Did a woman enter a carriage within the last five minutes?" he growled. The driver looked up at him in terror.
"Y-yes, sir, blonde. H-headed out of the c-city," he stammered.
"Many thanks," Erik sneered, and dropped the driver back into his seat. He disappeared to the nearest entrance to his lair, and called for César. The horse recognized the urgent tone in his Master's voice, and arrived in less than two minutes. Far too long, in Erik's mind. He mounted the horse and set off, heading south at a dangerously fast pace.
Christine will head south, because she knows that Erik knows that her home is in the north. Ah, but Christine, he knows how you think! And he will find you... he will have you... Christine...