I'm not sure what is going to become of this, but I felt like uploading it anyway.


It was cold and dark, the moon invisible and the buildings around her looming above. Christine tried not to let it bother her, to look forward to what she was about to do. Was it wise?

"Perhaps not." She muttered to herself, wrapping her cloak tightly around herself. It was midnight in Paris, and the streets were deserted and silent.

She was on her way to an old abandoned house at the edge of town. Christine had spent plenty of hours bugging and pestering Meg to tell her where he lay.

"Please, Meg! I have to know-" Eventually her voice would grow too anxious, too worried for Meg to bear. She caved, and against his and Mme Giry's wishes, had told Christine where he hid. The last time she had seen the Phantom, or Erik, as he had told her, had been over two months ago.

Since then, her life had been slow, her thoughts constantly drifting to the man she had assumed her Angel of Music.

Christine was now walking down an old dirt road, surrounded by trees on every side. Leaves scattered at her shoes, limp and brown from rain and mud. It was colder, and her legs ached, not to mention the exhaustion that tugged at her vision. I can keep going. She told herself silently, blinking away her tiredness and trudging along.

Her nose stung as the wind nipped at it, reddening the skin and making her wrap her arms around herself to preserve her warmth. How long had she been walking? Two hours? Three?

Up ahead was a fork in the road, one path leading into the deeper section of the forest, the other continuing along the path. Christine, smuggling a yawn and squinting at the dark woods, went against her better judgement and descended into the deep forest. She couldn't see a thing, the darkness hounding on her and in fact, scaring her.

She quickened her pace, glancing from side to side, then breaking into a run. She didn't even know where she was anymore, just following the path that she could barely make out in the gloom. Stumbling on her own shoes, Christine fell forward and landed painfully on her arm. Letting out a cry, she lifted her arm up to try and inspect it. It was covered in mud, but it didn't hurt too much.

"At least it's not broken." She whispered to herself, getting up and trying her best to sweep the dirt, leaves and mud from her clothes. Christine looked around. But where was she? Had she gone past his new home?

No, she hadn't. Unless her eyes were deceiving her, it stood at the edge of her vision, shrouded by two large oak trees. She inhaled sharply, carefully stepping over twigs and branches to reach the front. The house was falling apart, the door barely standing on its hinges, but still on so much as so she could not see inside.

Almost tentatively, Christine knocked on the door, then stepped through the door. It was only slightly warmer inside, much to Christine's disappointment. She gazed around, trying to make as little noise as possible as she closed the door behind herself. It must not have worked, because she could feel a stillness in the air, sudden yet unnerving all the same.

The former 'Phantom' was standing somewhere behind her, watching Christine as she fumbled around. However, she stopped and just froze.

"Christine," He murmured, his voice devoid of any emotion. She couldn't see his face.

"I came back." She said, collecting herself and turned around. She hadn't expected to see him so close, and she took a startled step backwards.

"Again?" He didn't flinch.

"You left me, what was I to do; give up?" Christine's tone grew sharper, as if she were unsure of his response. Erik narrowed his eyes, annoyed by her response. "If you returned just to argue with me, I understand. I shall kindly ask you to leave my sight." He turned, passing Christine down the hall and through a door she had not noticed- not that she had taken the time to look around.

She let out a gasp. "No! I did not travel this far to be turned away, Erik." The soprano stormed after him, standing in front of the doorway. She thought she could see his mask turned up at her, but she wasn't sure.

There was no response. Instead, she felt cold fingers wrap around her neck. She could feel him behind her, hissing through his teeth.

"Indeed you did, madame. Go run back to your little fool of a husband. He'll care for you." He released her, pushing Christine in the direction of the entrance. Christine tried not to fall over again, remembering suddenly how tired she was. She looked back up at Erik, then sank down to the ground, rubbing her neck tenderly.

"I don't want to go back, Erik." She responded. "I truly don't." Christine recollected herself. "Raoul is kind," She quickly added, "To me."

"However, I made a mistake." She looked up into his thoughtful eyes, flashing unreadably. "I fall at your feet, begging for your mercy. Please, monsieur, hear me out."

Erik didn't say anything for a long time, just stood and watched Christine as she waited, her heart pounding as if it were trying to break out of her chest.

"You admit your mistake?" His voice sounded unsure, and Christine nodded fervently, getting up and pressing a hand to the wall in order to steady herself. "Yes!" She said, meeting his eyes. "I told you that last time I came to find you, and you rejected me."

"That's not what happened." Erik replied.

"Yes, it is!" Christine's voice shook with anger. "I came for help, and you left without saying a goodbye. A rose doesn't count as a good-bye, Erik."

Erik exhaled, turning away from Christine. "There's a bed upstairs someplace. Make yourself comfortable." He turned and left down the stairs again, leaving Christine alone in the hall. Slightly stunned and very pissed, Christine climbed up to the lone room, where a cot sat in the corner, smelling bad and covered in who-knows-what from years of abandonment. She tugged her cape closer to herself and sat down on the cot, watching the door and hoping that Erik would appear. She had no such luck, and finally gave in to her exhaustion.


If you have ideas on what to have happen next, I will gladly take suggestions. I don't know if I will continue.