AN: Song is "Into the West" by Annie Lennox

"Madame!" Called the falsetto voice of one of the owners, the deathly thin one.

I cringed while sitting upon my heels when he called me so. I know that for professional business, women were called 'Madame' whether they were married or not and I, surely, am not. The king wouldn't allow any one, both male and female, to get intimately close to me. In reply, I look up from the costume I was taking in. Apparently, the man who is to wear the costume lost a considerable amount of weight, claiming that he swore goblins were keeping him from being sane. I've been planning to do something about that.

"Madame Williams, I'm pleased that you've made yourself comfortable already within the walls of this lovely building. My business partner and I adore having your group here. They seem to be, by far, the most well-behaved and sensible set of Americans I've come across."

I inwardly smile. It wasn't often when her groups' etiquette was praised. "Thank you, Monsieur. I trust that not many have heard such a compliment."

The twig of a man halfheartedly laughs. "Ah, yes. Originally, I came to ask if that you simply keep your troupe and yourself in the designated lit areas of theater for everyone's safety." I noticed, while still working on the costume, that the man is wringing his hands.

I pause my nimble fingers' work and place them in my lap. "May I ask why and why you're nervous?"

The man shakes himself, erasing all sense of anxiety. "There are still part of the theater being renovated and I'd hate for someone to get hurt. Several of my own workers have already been knocked out by falling paint cans and almost crushed by wobbly scaffolds." He lightly laughs. "It's quite comical when they explain what happened, but the funniness stops there. I don't want anymore people harmed."

At the last moment, I caught the flicker of movement of his eyes signifying that he's lying about the accidents. He truly doesn't want anyone hurt, but the renovations is a cover-up to get me to become bound by more inane rules. I almost glared at the bone-thin man. Almost. I flash a stage smile instead. "Thank you for caring so, Monsieur. I'll make sure to keep everyone in check."

He carefully nods. "Right... well... off I go. Should you need anything..."

"I'll call. You can leave now, much work to be done." I waved him off while I pick up my needle and thread again. I watch him give a slight bow and quickly leave.

Stay in these areas only? Highly unlikely. My troupe is actually scared of this place. They could feel something odd the moment they settled in. They wouldn't be a problem wandering the halls. The problem would be me. Curiosity had always and will always be my downfall. I finished the last bit of hemming and fixed the costume upon the mannequin, making sure that everything was in place. I wasn't going to stay in this room any longer.

-Stay, queenie- A myriad of small voices warn. -Danger. Kingy not be happy.-

"I could care less. Your king knows that." I answer calmly, speaking to the perfumed air since they could be anywhere. "You need to stop tormenting my troupe members. They need their rest and nutrition. Leave them be." I whisk out of the room, knowing that they wouldn't answer back.

The taste of the air in the halls are bitter on my tongue as it weighed down upon my thick working clothes. Feeling quite warm in the durable calf-length tan skirt and cream poet's blouse, I pull my hair back into a loose bun. Many tendrils, though, resisted the bind and draped themselves around my shoulders and neck. I don't care though. I'm alone for now and could risk looking less than perfect.

The area right outside of the costume room was the mess area for all props and sets sitting under the stage. Remaining pieces of former backdrops and forgotten hand props littered the area, but it's homely in a sad way. I had passed by the orchestra pit doors, seeing that it hadn't been entirely fixed yet and reeked of a dreadful aura. Shaking the feeling that something horrible had happened to this place, I flee to the more grandeur halls above and away from the stage.

I leap up several flight of stairs and find myself near seating boxes. As an actress, I could never see any of my plays from the audience much less a box. As a director/playwright, I had to remain backstage to keep the show running. If only... if only I could for once see my play from afar, to see what exactly captures the people's hearts. There were several doors, each one was very ornate and beautiful. I open an interestingly different set of doors. They had a slightly different aura than the others but visually looked the same as the others. I step past the curtains to reveal the bare stage below my feet. I could now see why only the rich could sit here. One could see everything, even into the side wings of backstage.

I relax in the only chair in the box to listen to the silence of the auditorium. It's late at night on the first day of coming here and most everyone retired to bed early due to jet lag. As far as I know, it was the skinny owner and me who are still awake. The silence eventually got to me when I could feel someone watching me again, I abruptly stand up and turned to leave, only to find that the door is locked when it wasn't moments ago. My throat tightened in anger.

I have a feeling that the king is trying to get back at me for not listening to his goblins. Such small actions of revenge were common in this little life I lead. I calmly walk back into the box to look for a way down. There's a column just to my left that led right between aisles. I steeled my courage and pulled myself on the half wall, delicately balancing my silk slippers on the cool smooth marble. I imagine the Bog of Stench bubbling under my feet, then, thinking about the small foot way I once traveled upon to get to the other side. Without another moment lost, I jump on the column, but I started sliding too quickly. A yelp unlocked my throat when I couldn't get a grip of the smooth stone. Suddenly, I fell and landed harshly upon the carpeted ground.

The dark room got darker as I try to lift my head from my arms. My ribs and hips are screaming in pain. I look back at the empty and high-up box and groaned before letting my head fall back unto my arm. With every other breath, the pain ebbed and I'm able to stand to make my way to the stage. I remember several doors leading back to the underside of the building. As soon as I get there, I'm going to crash in the costume room until morning.

Carefully, I clamber onto the clean stage and look into the empty theater chairs. I quietly sigh, hearing a soft echo in reply. I lift my head with a smile and decided to end the silence, just to entertain myself before I turn in for the night.

"Hope fades... into the world of night. Through shadows falling, out of memory and time. Don't say, 'We've come now to the end.'" I didn't notice my tears until they reached my lips. The sudden saltiness shocks my tongue only for a breath's moment. "White shores are calling. You and I will meet again. And you'll be here in my arms... just sleeping."

My echoed voice rings throughout the large room. I grin even as the tears paint my face. "What do you see... on the horizon? Why do the white gulls call? Across the sea... a pale moon rises. The ships have come to carry you home." I almost didn't hear a sad voice, different from my own. Almost. I continued, though, giving my voice a smaller quality so that I could hear the other person better. "And all will turn... to silver glass. A light on the water. Grey ships pass... into the West."

I listened as the last echo fades away, searching for the other person who listened to me. Like a deer who caught the scent of the hunters, my eyes look for the intruder. On trembling legs, the doe stands, frozen. When all seemed clear, I turn to make my way to the lower levels of the stage when I hear a single sound. A clap, I first thought. Then it sounded again... and again. I turn back to the audience's seats to see the vast and dark emptiness devoid of all life. My breath catches at the thought that I might have gone around the bend, finally breaking past the point.

"Darling performance earlier today, mademoiselle." A dark voice melts the silence. I didn't say anything but instead tried to find the speaker among the chairs. "And this night. You have a gift, but it's a shame that it's going to waste."

"Waste?" I couldn't hold back my sharp tongue not my anger at being intruded upon. "It's very hard nowadays to become part of a decent musical, thank you!" I still couldn't see the speaker, but the voice sounded too familiar. "Goblin King?"

In the upper corner of my eye, I caught movement. In the box I just left is a dark figure, hidden in the shadows. "My dear, no one is here but you and me."

I feel a blush slither up my neck and cheeks. "If you're not who I thought you were, who are you?" The pain from falling is getting back to me, leaving me horribly breathless as if I ran past my limits.

"Forgive me, I'm not used to the fierce curiosity of modern women." The smooth voice sends shivers down my back. "I am only a demon disguised as an angel."

I warmly smirk at the figure despite my loss of breath. "That's the exact description of the being who I thought you were. I'm afraid that I still think you're the Goblin King."

"Then let this help you." The figure moved into the soft light revealing a white half face set upon an image of a man in black fabric blending perfectly with the dark.

Suddenly, I completely lose my breath and fall unrelentingly hard unto the stage. In my head, I'm so very thankful that it wasn't the king trying to exact his childish revenge upon me again, but I also think that I could still be in danger. No one wears a mask without trying to hide something. My thoughts escape to the once sweet memory of the peach dream and how the king first hid himself with a demonic mask. No, nothing good comes from a man wearing a mask. I'm able to pull my legs under myself and lean on my elbows, but just moving a little bit sparks a wave of pain throughout my ribs and hip that took the fall. I can't even speak if I wanted to.

"Are you well?" The man speaks. I look back at the box only to see that he vanished like a ghost in the morning light. A light touch to my shoulder answered my sudden volley of inquiries. The warmth I feel from him was kind and caring, but hurt, very hurt. A very dangerous combination. Tasting this, I try my best to get away from his hand. I couldn't see him as he was behind me, but I could feel the sudden change in his controlled emotions. "You are afraid. I see that they have told you about me. About what I've done."

I heard the straining creaking of something being pulled or twisted behind me as the smell of water and roses kissed my nose. A rope suddenly appears in front of my vision. It was expertly wound into the clamp of death for those destined to die at the gallows. I feel my breath hitch and my heart race, thinking that I'm going to die. His hand rested upon my shoulder again, his warmth dangerous as I expected.

"This is going to be their fate." He says, bouncing the noose in front of me. "I warned them not to be so flippant about any information given so freely. They all seem the same, the owners of this house, my house. They've tried to cheat me before and now in this time, they're trying to gather willing informants to what? Lure me out so that they may finally be rid of me?" I remain silent only to catch my breath, but I believe he took my silence for a soundless confession when I yelp under his firm fingers tightening around my shoulder. "Answer me." He hisses.

"They never told me anything." I hiss back, turning my head so that I would finally meet the intruder. His eyes are shadowed, but in the dim light, I swear that they are golden like a cat's eyes in the pale moonlight. A few locks of his short raven black hair falls to one side of his healthy face, the other side hidden under the white mask I first saw in the box. The rose aroma must have come from the single rose pinned upon his lapel. The anger on his face, though, rips me from studying him any further.

"Then why did you cower if you do not know me?"

I quietly gasp, just to regain much needed breath. "I could feel you. When I was much younger, I went through a... a task that changed me. I could feel, even taste beings. You, I felt, are benevolent and a protector, but I tasted the bitterness of an infliction deep in your soul." I pause, attempting to ignore the blinding pain. "You're a dangerous man, if I can call you that."

I watch his jaw set as his shoulders stiffened. "And what would you call me if you could."

I think about how I could sense him, but not see him earlier today, how similar it was to earth-bound psyches. I thought about how he was in the box only moments before I fell yet suddenly appear at my side like it was nothing. I look at him with a slight grin. "I'd call you a ghost."

He smiles back. My heart leaps for joy. He smiled! He buried his hurt, his dangerous side of him, just to smile back. Oh, how I could watch him smile every waking moment of my time. It's nothing like the demanding smirk of the king. I lift one of my hands to his upon my shoulder and feel that his skin is smooth and warm, friendly even. The rope in his other hand is tucked away in his dark suit as he allowed my touch.

"Mademoiselle, I do apologize for my behavior. I've been petulant as of late. I've yet to get used to this new era and manners of every person." His now empty hand wraps around my waist to pull me to my feet, helping me walk to the side of the very dark stage. "Either way, it's still no excuse to force a lady like yourself to remain upon the floor when she needs to be cared for. It was very zany to attempt an escape from box five if one does not know where the secrets lay."

I'd scoff but outright moving left my lungs as an empty trap. Although, I am very stubborn. "It wasn't as if I was left a choice. Having a door locked on me isn't exactly a nice thing to do. I just thought that it was the man who's after me who locked the door. He's nearly always trying to catch me in a place where he can attempt a claim upon me. I had to escape. Had I know that it was you, I probably would have stayed put."

A slight chuckle rumbles in his chest. "Mademoiselle, I don't believe that a strong-willed woman would ever let such a man treat her as such."

"Unless the man isn't just a man." I mutter under what's left of my air.

"But..." The ghost continues. "That lock wasn't my move." I quickly face the dark man with wide eyes. "I didn't come until I heard a scuff of someone sliding. The moment I arrived, you have already started singing. I, myself, checked on the door. Now that you explained to me your situation, I know now that if you stayed, you surely would have been overtaken." He stops walking and pulls me in front of him. "You must be careful in this place. If this man who is chasing after you isn't a man at all, my house will easily become your tomb."

I would have answered, but his golden eyes caught mine and I didn't feel worried that the king was after me the entire time. Suddenly, I simply wanted to curl up in this man's arms and stay there, knowing that I'd be safe and warm unlike the king's. I admit that I wanted to be in his arms, too, but I felt as if I'd be a mere possession. Safe, yes, but not warm, not cared for. I feel my heart flip when I realize that I have been staring. I train my eyes to the side as I feel a blush creep up.

"I'm sorry. I... I didn't mean to..." I stutter. I never stutter.

"It's very well, mademoiselle. It's happened many times before." He says so sadly.

"No, I mean..." I feel my eyes suddenly reveal my wants to him.

Another smile graces his lips, understanding what I meant. "I can see why your suitor ails you so. It's a shame that he makes the wrong moves." His hand touches the warming flesh of my cheek. "I'm afraid to say that you are in a game of chess with three players, you being one of the three."

"What are you saying?" I whisper as my lack of breath renders me lightheaded and dizzy. "The Goblin King has always been playing against me..." My thoughts trail off when I fully process what he said. "Oh, my... it's not f..." If I could, I would have stayed awake long enough to know what happened after I passed out.