"Haunted"
A Phantom of the Opera oneshot

AUTHOR'S WARNING:
This story is for mature adult audiences. Please proceed accordingly.

oooooooooo

"Christine….. Christine."

Was that….? I kept running, but there wasn't much room to go far. I tripped over a cherub statue but quickly righted myself and glanced around. The wind whipped around me, forcing me to push my hair away from my face. It made me hear things. It made me…. he made me… I shook my head against him as my eyes began to fog.

"Christine…."

My heart fluttered and I spun at my name. That was no gust. The cemetery was cold, empty; I shuddered, pulling my cloak further around my shoulders. Winter was coming. Patches of snow littered the rows of headstones and I silently coveted the peace those souls surely knew not being hunted.

"Christine."

I cried out and my hand flew to my heart. He stood net to me, gazing upon me gently and inquisitively.

"I waited for you."

I began to back away slowly as he advanced, holding out a hand. Terror held a firm grip on my heart, and yet… and yet….. those eyes. I glanced up into those eyes as I rejected him, and could see confusion mixed with disappointment as his shoulders slumped oh so slightly.

That's when I turned, picked up my skirts and ran. The silence was overwhelming - was it truly that quiet or was it my fear? I did not want to wait around to discover the truth. I could feel his anger building inside of me as if it were my own. My muscles fought and coiled as I ran and I heard a 'woosh' and a growl I couldn't place - My heart screamed, God help me! and that's when his hands clamped down upon my arms, and I screamed aloud. It was split seconds in which he had me up against an ancient tree, and I squeezed my eyes shut, crying out.

"You forget your master," he growled, his voice just inches from my face. I was so frightened, I didn't speak, but soon I felt his warm breath on my cheek, and I relaxed a little. He spoke again but I kept my eyes shut.

"Remember who made you, Christine….. You are my angel of music, are you not? Have you forsaken me?"

Panting, I didn't move, waiting for him.

"ANSWER ME!"

"No!" I screeched, tears spilling down my face. "No."

His lips were at my ear. Barely a whisper, the wind. "You are my heaven and earth, Christine. Do not deny me what you know is mine… what you know you, as well, want." As his lips grazed my neck I knew what he said was true. My heart slammed in my chest as a barely-audible moan escaped from me. But he caught it. He must have, for it was then he kissed my neck. My chest heaved in anticipation and I didn't like how he looked at me. Didn't I? It was a war, an internal battle of wills. Mind…. over something else. My grip on his arm tightened; I pulled him against me and he shuddered.

It started at my core. The warmth spread, but not far, and it commandeered my utmost attention. I felt flushed, dizzy, and I grasped onto him as he hoisted me up against the tree. A silver rivet burst from my corset, and I bit my lip. It was all I could do to keep from tearing the rest of it away. He did the job for me, quitting half way down, freeing me from my constraints.

"Christine…"

I was mid-swoon and mid-moan but puzzled at the fact that his mouth didn't move. At least, not to speak. He was busy at work on me. The voice wasn't his, but I couldn't focus on that. My head rolled back as I ran my fingers through his dark hair, keeping him against me.

"Christine, angel!"

My eyes flew open again. I tried to speak. Something was tugging me away, and I found myself fighting it as my legs entwined around his waist. I appalled myself, yet refused to stop. His hips ground into mine and it was that thrust that jolted me awake. I lay out on my back in the darkness of my bedroom, chest still heaving, and I was drenched in sweat. Raoul lay next to me, sleeping peacefully. Everything was as it had been…. years separated us, but it was as if he were with me still. I could feel his lips on me and his hands on my thighs; the warm sensation down below screamed louder than ever, and as my hands relieved the burn my back arched, the scream at my lips, begging to be unleashed. I bit my tongue and rolled to my side, exhausted and heartbroken.

"Christine?" Raoul, disheveled and groggy, propped himself up on an arm. "Anything the matter?"

"It's alright, love," I didn't move from my side. "Bad dream, is all."

He made a noise of understanding, sliding an arm around my waist and slipping peacefully away again. I closed my eyes and cried.