Horrid Questions

Christine paced back and forth trying to control her anxiety. It had been days, almost a week, since she had spoken to or had a lesson from her Angel. She stopped abruptly. No. His name is Erik, and he is no Angel. But that could not stop her from missing and worrying about him. What if something disastrous had happened to him in the cellars of the Opera house? What if he was lying seriously injured somewhere? What if he was... dead?

No! She couldn't think such thoughts! Her Ang-Erik was not dead! He was alive, but just distracted. That was it. He was distracted with writing his masterpiece, Don Juan Triumphant, and he hadn't had the time to come see her. Oh, but she couldn't believe that! Even if Erik was busy writing on his opera, he would still come to see her, no matter what. He hadn't just forgotten about her, even if she had betrayed his trust by removing his mask. What would happen to her if he never came back? He was the closest thing she had left to her father, and she couldn't just loose that.

Christine came to a conclusion. He was the Angel of Music, no matter what her common sense or proven fact told her, and she had to see him again.

Grabbing a cloak quickly, knowing it would be cold in the cellars, she made her way down the hallway. On her way, she found a workman who lent her his lantern. Eventually, after wandering through the labyrinth for the longest time, Christine made her way to the entrance of the lake. She looked down to the black water holding the lantern light over it and shivered. She couldn't even see the bottom. How deep was it? Was she to meet a watery grave? She shouldn't ask herself that! If anything like that were to happen, her Angel would save her immediately. Besides, he would never allow such an atrocity to happen to his beloved student!

"Angel?" she called out hesitantly across the water. She waited but heard no answer. After a few moments she began to grow weary. What if he didn't answer? What if he never answered? Christine stopped herself. By asking herself all these questions she was just beginning to worry and doubt her Angel. That was the last thing she needed to do.

Perhaps he wouldn't answer to Angel. He might think it was someone else calling out to a lover or suitor. "Erik?" she tried asking. This time she said it louder and clearer hoping he would recognize her voice. But all she heard in response was her voice echoing around her, sending a shiver down her spine.

Christine began to pace like she had in her room. He'd come in a moment, just as he always had before. Her Angel would never desert her, especially when she had traveled down here just to see him.

In a few minutes she had grown frantic. Why hadn't her Angel come for her yet? He had to have heard her call to him! What if he had abandoned her? Oh, he couldn't have! He promised he would see her again. Christine came to another hard decision. If her Angel wasn't going to come to her, she would go to him... no matter how frightened she was.

Still holding the lantern, Christine walked a little ways down the shore of the underground lake to where she knew a dock to be. Finding it, she was happy to see a gondola boat sitting there. She sat the lantern down and untied the boat from the dock. Quickly, she got in and placed the lantern beside her. Once she found her Angel, he would lead her back. For now, she need to the light so she could see where she was going.

-x-

Christine rowed the gondola with all the strength she could muster for the longest time. How long had she been in these cellars? Hours? Days? Weeks? Time seemed not to be around any longer. She was hungry, tired, and thirsty. Christine glanced down at the black lake water. No! She couldn't drink that. Who knew what that water contained?

She sighed. The cellars were starting to get to her. They were dark and depressing… She couldn't help but want to turn around. But, her Angel was here, and she had to see him. Though, putting the oars down and resting for a moment wouldn't hurt… No, of course it wouldn't.

An exhausted Christine placed the oars across the boat and laid closed her eyes. She'd find her Angel soon…

The sound of beautiful music invaded her rest. Her eyes opened dreamily. What was that sound? Was it her Angel? No… It was too feminine to be her Angel. She smiled contently. She had never heard such a beautiful voice before. Whose could it be? The depression she had felt earlier disappeared. Where was that wonderful music coming from? Christine strained her ears to try to hear it better. The singing was coming from… below her? She leaned over the side of the gondola without a second thought. She had to see where this beautiful voice was coming from!

Christine leaned farther and farther down. Something must have been moving under the water from all the ripples. As any child would, Christine tilted her head. What could this mean?

Suddenly, two hands reached out and grabbed her cloak, pulling her under the water. Entering the lake, it felt as if ice daggers were being stabbed into her skin. Christine didn't struggle for a moment, not really knowing what had happened to her. Soon though, her lungs started burning and she realized she needed air -- and desperately.

The young soprano began to flail about trying to hit something, trying to get the infernal creature holding her to let her go. She needed to breathe! Didn't it realize that? She could only barely see the silhouette of the thing that held her and it was no woman. It was a man, or something shaped like one. Christine tried to hit it, but to no avail. It seemed able to dodge her every time…

After only a few seconds, she began to struggle less and less. Tiredness was beginning to over take her body from the lack of air and all of the rowing she had done. Her lungs burned with a greater ferocity now, but her vision was becoming blurred. Everything was darker than it had been before. Slowly, as she died, Christine thought one last thing…

Why hasn't my Angel saved me from this horrid fate?

Christine closed her eyes and went limp in her killer's hands.

The End.

A/N: There will be "sequel" to this in Erik's POV. Angsty Erik! This won "Mod's Choice" at potocontest at live journal.