Disclaimer: I only own... well, my crazy concoctions.

Author's note: wow! I got a lot of reviews! But I too had a lot of homework, sooo...) Oh, yeah, Elentir... I ...eh... ate the chocolate out of frustration (see the homework part)!

When Christine woke up, she couldn't understand why the bed was so big, or everything so dark, or why she couldn't hear the soft breathing of the girls she shared the dormitory with. Then she realised she didn't lie in her dormitory, but in the Louis-Philippe room in the house at the lake.

Everything that had happened the evening before came back in her mind with such a force, that it was like someone hit her on the head with a hammer. She remembered her Angel's soft voice, and then remembered, with a cold chill running down her spine, that there was no Angel, only a man, a man who was hardly a man, called Erik…

Oh, how stupid she had been! Believing he was an Angel! Oh, it had been so easy for him to control her! No wonder he had forbidden her to meet any men; he had wanted her for himself!

Was he a lunatic? Surely he was! No sane man would deceive a girl by acting like he was an Angel! And his bed, which was actually a coffin, the black room he slept in, the way he had acted towards her when she had removed his mask… she recalled the words he had spoken to her then, with an ease that frightened her. She was sure they would never go out of her mind again.

He had said she had to stay forever with him, that she would never get out of here again… She started breathing deeply, trying to calm herself. She couldn't let herself go like this… She looked around in the dark room, looking for a window she could open, so she could get some fresh air, and then realised there wasn't a window, because she was under the cellars of the Opera.

She pulled up her knees, forced her forehead against them and pushed her both hands in her hair, straining to keep the tears away. What would become of her, imprisoned with a lunatic? He could murder her and nobody would ever know what had happened to her…

No, he wouldn't hurt her. He had said he loved her, after all, and even when she had removed his mask, he had only hurt himself… She shivered when she thought back of her nails cutting in his flesh and then calmed down. He wouldn't hurt her.

When she was at ease about that, she started to think of mamma Valerius. Tears immediately sprung back in her eyes. What would become of her dear old friend? Christine took care of her. There was of course the servant-girl, but mamma Valerius was so weak, every shock could be fatal to her…

She pushed her face even harder against her knees and cried.

When she felt a little bit better, she thought of ways to get out of the house. There had to be a way… but probably only Erik knew. No matter how she turned, she would have to convince him to let her go. But how?

Something Little Meg, one of the ballet rats, had told her once shot back through her mind. Touch men on their weak spots, the girl had said with a wink. Then she had found that highly amusing, for Meg Giry had never of her life had a boyfriend because her mother, Mme. Giry, guarded her daughter like she was a nun.

But now the advice was very useful. No matter how he looked, Erik was a man, with weak spots. And she knew his weak spot.

She was.

"Christine?" Christine whirled around, becoming deadly pale.

When she saw it was Erik, and observed the disappointment in his eyes by her fear, she quickly smiled. "Erik! You frightened me. I hadn't heard you coming." He was wearing his mask again.

He seemed to be satisfied with her explanation, and the disappointment was replaced by the well-known eager, longing look. "Are you hungry?"

"Yes, thank you." She smiled sweetly to him and, while he turned around to lead her to the dining room, pushed away the sickening feeling the thought of what was beneath the mask away. Was she an actress or wasn't she?

"Is there something wrong, my dear?" Erik asked, eying her from the other side of the table. Just like the night before, he didn't eat anything. For that he would have to put of his mask and he clearly didn't want to frighten her again. "You look worried." She shook her head, and then hesitantly nodded. It probably wasn't wise to tell him, but he was so nice... "What's the matter?" Before she knew it, he had stood up and kneeled next to her.

"She bit upon her lower lip. "Erik… I'm- I'm worried about mamma Valerius. I- she's so weak, and- and if I don't come home…" No! She shouldn't have said that. Now he knew she wanted to go, even if it was for someone else, but he would never let her go. She had lost that opportunity, the only one to get ever out of here. Why couldn't she have waited? But it was too late to take her words back, so she just looked imploringly. "I- I don't have to go…" she added when he was silent. "I- I could leave a message or something…"

He kept the silence until it was almost unbearable. He finally said reluctantly: "You could write her a letter."

"Yes," she said relieved. "Yes! I'll do that."

"And then… then you'll be completely free. Yes, you better write her something," he whispered. "Then there's nothing to keep you away anymore. Then you really can get used to this life… Then you can learn to be mine…" He nodded, more to himself than to her. "I'll take care it's delivered." He was silent again. "Meanwhile, you could perhaps write a letter to Messieurs Moncharmin and Richard, so they won't be worried." His contempt for them was clearly audible in his voice.

She nodded. "Thank you." Her eyes shone. She would be able to write to mamma Valerius!

"There's stationery in your room. You may go now." He stood up. She felt so happy she would have embraced him if she hadn't reminded herself that without him, she wouldn't even have to write her guardian and if she wasn't so afraid of his touch.

I expect a lot of reviews, even if I don't give any chocolate... Please? (falls on her knees) Pleeeeaaaaassssseeee?

"Since first I saw your face, this music has been singing to me from you--and love triumphant! Yet listen- there sounds an ominious undercurrent of warning!" Erik (Lon Chagney Sr.), The Phantom of the Opera (1925); the organ-scene, just before Christine (Mary Philbin) snatches away his mask.