Marie's eyes shot open as she took in a deep breath. She sat up gasping in lung after lung of air.
"JOEY!" she cried, her eyes darting around her looking for the young boy. Her face expressed her fear and concern. But she didn't see her brother or her uncle. In fact the only thing that she saw was a man in a bone white mask watching her.
"Where am I? What happened? Where's Joey?" she asked frantically.
The man just looked at her, saying nothing.
She noticed that she was lying on a couch wrapped in a warm blanket. Her hair and clothing was still soaking wet and Marie noticed that there was only candle light in the place. Where was she?
"Please, tell me how I got here." Her voice was so soft that it nearly was inaudible. The man just looked at her, raising an eyebrow.
She tried to jump off the couch in frustration but the blankets were tightly wrapped around her and she fell to the ground instead.
"Damn blankets! What was going through your mind when you did this?!" she fumed as she struggled against the constricting material.
The man stood and walked toward her. She watched him out of the corner of her eyes taking in his confident stride and flowing cape. His clothes seemed rather odd as well. Tight black pants and a ruffled white shirt like that in the 1800's.
She paused in her struggles when he leaned down and grabbed an edge of the blanket and pulled. She unrolled from it as though she were Cleopatra coming out of her rug. Slowly picking herself up from the cold ground, she shook off the dizziness that assailed her.
"Would you please warn me next time you do something like that?"
The only answer she got was a snort. She whirled around and stalked toward the strange man. Marie got with in an inch of his face. Scowling, she poked him hard in the chest.
"This is not a snorting matter, sir. I am serious. I have no idea where my brother or my uncle are and I'm unnerved with the fact that I have no idea where I am. So if you would be so kind as to tell me exactly where I am, I will leave immediately."
Marie backed up a little and took a deep breath. She hadn't meant to do something so rash, but he had pushed her buttons without even meaning to. Coupled with the fact that she was sure that she had died seemed to give her ample reason to freak out.
The man just stared at her a malicious glint in his eyes. Which, Marie noticed, were green. He walked up to her, invading her personal space as she had done only a few seconds ago.
"Madam, you are in my home. I have no idea who your brother and uncle are, but they are not here. You were the only one that I found in my lake and you were nearly dead."
His voice was hard and cold, no where near the kind of voice that Marie was expecting. His eyes were as hard and cold as his voice which gave her reason enough to step back a few inches.
His words sunk in, causing Marie to narrow her brown eyes at him; he just looked down his nose at her.
"I am not a 'madam'," she said, wrinkling her nose in disgust at the word. "For your information, I'm single and loving it. Now where's the front door? I'll be leaving now."
Marie glanced around her, not seeing any doors of any kind and faintly wondering where there was water in the room. Her eyes widened a little as she realized that was the lake that the man had spoken of. Why he had a lake in his house she couldn't help but wonder.
"There is no front door. And you will not be going any where until you tell me how you came to be in this place."
Marie glared at him. "I thought that you said that I was found in your lake?"
He raised his eyebrow again. "I did. But how did you get under the opera house? You are not one of the workers in it nor are you one of the performers. So how did you find this place?"
Marie's look of anger was replaced by one of confusion. "Opera house? There's no opera house in Texas. At least the part I live in…"
"Texas? Mademoiselle, you are in France, Paris to be exact. Not this Texas place that you speak of."
"But… but that's were I fell into the water at. I was in Texas. I was in the water in Texas, sinking to the bottom. I know I was…" Marie trailed off, her thoughts confused and jumbled.
The man watched her interested in the emotions crossing her face. Confusion, panic, sadness, hopelessness. They all flashed before his eyes.
Marie hugged herself, rubbing her arms slowly. She felt how slimy her skin felt and cringed at the sensation. Material touched her shoulders and she jumped. The blanket was draped across her shoulders and she looked up at the man who now stood behind her.
He just gave her a soft push in the direction of the couch.
"Sit. I will bring you something to warm your bones." And he was gone.
Marie sighed and sat on the couch softly. She shivered and once again wondered how she had gotten from Texas to Paris. She still didn't believe this man, who had yet to tell her his name.
A cup was placed in her hands and she looked up, startled. Green eyes stared back. The man gestured that she should drink.
Hesitantly, Marie took a sip. The warmth of the tea invaded her body and a soft smile graced her lips. Without meaning to, a slight sigh escaped her mouth. She loved tea of any kind. It was one of her comfort foods.
"So you believe that you are from this place…what was it called again? Texas?" the man asked, seeing that his sudden question had made her jump once more.
Marie shot him a glare will taking another sip of the tea. "I am from Texas. You have given me no proof that I'm not in it anymore. Until I have that proof, I shall continue to believe that."
"Is this enough proof for you, woman?" he snarled as he threw a pamphlet at her. It landed next to her and she picked it up, her hand shaking slightly.
It read thusly:
Opera Populaire presents
HANIBAL
In which La Carlotta shall once again astound
Her audience wit her musical prowess.
Tickets can be purchased at the ticket booth on the side of the
Opera house.
Show times will be given there.
Marie let the paper drop to the ground, her eyes full of confusion and disbelief. It was there on paper; the date, the city, everything. How had she gotten to Paris?
The man studied her, waiting for some sort of reaction. There was no screaming, no running around, nothing. She just sat there in shock. He muttered something to himself before walking over to her.
"What is your name, woman?"
Marie's face snapped up, her vision slightly blurred due to the invasion of tears. She sniffed and rubbed her hand across her eyes. Looking back at the green eyed man, she stood, albeit a little wobbly.
"Marie. My name's Marie." Her voice shook, although she tried to cover it up by speaking slowly and enunciating each word.
"What's yours? Your name, I mean." His eyes seemed to harden even more at her question. He turned his back on her and glared at the wall, as though trying to put a hole in it with his gaze.
Marie watched him, wondering if he was going to answer her. She nearly gave up hope that he was, when his voice cut through her thoughts.
"Erik."
"Excuse me?"
The man turned back to her and nearly made her wilt with the anger in his eyes.
"My name. It is Erik."
Marie shrank back, nearly falling back onto the couch. She just nodded, her eyes on the ground below her.
Her tea was still warm and she took another sip. It was good; much better then the stuff that she had at home. It smelt of cinnamon and apples; she wondered briefly where he had gotten it.
Erik sat across from her in one of the plush chairs that were scattered about the place. Marie leaned back and closed her eyes. She still hadn't grasped that she was no longer in her time period or her home town anymore.
Her wet clothes weren't help much either. They had all but dried and were sticking to her damp body. She shivered again, this time from the cold air in the room. She wondered if it really was as big as it looked.
Erik watched her as she slowly drifted off to sleep. Once her head rolled to one side, he stood and placed another blanket on her. Carefully, he placed her on her back so she wouldn't wake with a stiff neck.
Walking away, he paused when he heard a soft snore come from her prone figure. Giving a small smirk, he continued on his way to the upper portions of the opera house to pay a visit to the performers.
Not a pleasant one either. This was purely business.
Marie, unaware of whom she had been saved by, shifted in her sleep, curling tighter into the blankets that had been lent to her by the Phantom of the Opera.
