CHAPTER 1: THE DAY ERIK HEARD HIS ANGEL
"I need a place to stay, that's the first thing I have to figure out." Christine was muttering to herself as she rode on a tram in the airport. Las Vegas was a magical place, from the lights to the people that came by the boat loads. Christine had never seen so many people, and not at all like the ones she had come to see in only a few minutes of getting off of her flight.
Girls came out, not much older than her wearing clubbing outfits, already looking as if they were stoned. Christine had never gotten along with those kinds of girls in school; they had always teased her. It wasn't as if Christine had ever really gone to a normal school very much; with her fathers work, most of the time she just went along with him, never really having much school.
There were couples of all ages from twenty to sixty years old. The only thing any of them had in common was that they looked happy, but Christie didn't allow the envy to drip through her like a distant part of her wanted to. After all, there was no way Christine could ever love after her father died.
Christine didn't have very much left; maybe one thousand dollars and a couple of outfits. She had one beautiful red dress that her father had bought her when he'd been paid a little extra. A cheep Mp3 player and ear phones hung out of her ears. If Christine had nothing else, she needed this music; it was the only thing really worth living for anymore.
In her slightly tattered clothes she walked around the center of the Las Vegas airport. She had to figure out where she could afford to say and how she was going to get there with the little money she had left. That was, of course, the money Christine had to live on until she found somewhere to work. Not that there's much hope, Christine thought solemnly, it's not like I even have a high school education.
At that moment a tall man ran into her. He looked to be homeless, or at least very drunk. A beard that was much too long and unkempt ran down his face in clumps. His eyes looked ravenous and slightly frightened. His clothes, though, gave him a different appearance. The dress shirt and pants alone must have come close to costing how much Christine had left, not to mention the shoes and jacket. His attire was splattered with mud, soot, and…is that blood, Christine though, fears coursing through her.
She was hoping the man would just get up and walk away; she didn't even care if he remembered to apologize. Instead he looked down at her with those ravenous eyes, making Christine's fears continue to grow.
His voice on the other hand had no bearing on his appearance. His voice came out much different, "I'm so sorry miss; I'm so klutzy no a day, I think I must be loosing my sight." If I hadn't been looking at him, I wouldn't have guessed he would have looked like a madman. In fact, he seemed perfectly nice. Christine's earlier fears went away and a trace of stupidity when through her instead. In her life, her dad and said to her over and over again that appearances didn't make the man, that his actions proved themselves as a person.
I've forgotten already, Christine thought miserably. What would my poor father think of me now, judging this man!
Christine realized the man was waiting for me to say something and Christine felt even more embarrassed. "It's no problem sir; I wasn't paying that much attention either." Christine smiled and was about to turn away, when Christine felt a hand tapping my arm.
The man turned back to me. "I'm sorry Miss, but I just wanted to make sure you have somewhere to go. I hope you don't mind me saying this, but you appear to be a little lost."
She smiled to be polite, but grateful at his comment. "I actually am in need of a hotel recommendation; I've never been here before." The man seemed to like this answer, and he smiled. That smile made her feel a twinge of doubt.
"I actually have something for you. I was going to cancel my room at the La Cinéma, but I'd rather have someone use the room. It's good for the entire month and they wouldn't give me my money back for the room anyway." He handed her a room key. "Just go up to the front desk and ask them to let you in; tell them to call me if they have any questions. I'll have you take the limo I was supposed go in." The man motioned a man in a black suit to come over.
He spoke to the man in French, as he did the man looked at Christine questionably, then back at the man. The man looked back at me, "Good luck sweetheart, I can tell you can shine." Without waiting for a response of any kind for Christine, he left. She tried to find him in the crowd he had already disappeared.
That was a very, very strange turn of luck. Christine had no idea what had happened except that she had simply been kind to a stranger and now she had somewhere to stay, rent free, for an entire month. She wondered if her father, surely now an angel, was looking out for her.
Thank you papa, Christine thought. The driver brought her back. "Are you ready to go, Miss? Do you want me to pick up the rest of your luggage?"
"This is all I have." The man looked at her with pity and Christine looked away. She didn't want this stranger's pity; he knew nearly nothing about her.
Christine followed him to the front of the airport. She was relieved he knew how to get out; alone she wouldn't have had any idea were go. The man opened the door open for me and Christine said a shy, "Thank you."
He smiled, obviously not used to hearing this. "It's my job, Miss. Now I assume you want to go straight to the hotel and check in."
"Yes, Sir which one is ours?" Christine looked around, excited at the prospect of getting in a yellow taxi cab. She'd only ever been in one once when my dad had missed the bus. She'd never been in a car without other people before.
The driver was looking at her, obviously more amused by the moment. "That one, dear," he pointed to the biggest black car and Christine couldn't resist gasping. It was easily twice the size of the other cars, much bigger than she expected.
Christine nearly got in the wrong seat, but the driver opened the back door and motioned her in and her amazement only increased. The seats were real leather and shiny black. There was a seat belt and she fastened herself in. The car even smelled nice!
Christine lay back in her seat and closed her eyes, daydreaming. Maybe Las Vegas was a good idea; everything has gone right so far. After a few hesitant moments Christine asked, "Can you put on some music, please?"
The man, who was blocked by a small opening in the door, didn't say anything. Instead he just turned on the radio. Haven't Met You Yet by Michael Bubble started playing and Christine couldn't resist humming along to the familiar melody and even tapping my foot along.
"Can you sing?" At any other moment, she was very shy with her voice. It wasn't that she didn't like to sing in front of people, but that she hadn't found any reason to sing in her sorrow since her father had died. Now singing felt perfect to her and Christine began singing along with the words, only stumbling a couple times.
"I just haven't met you yet," Christine sang the end of the song with more passion than the actual artist did.
At first the driver didn't say anything, and Christine was scared it had sounded awful. After over a minute the driver said quietly, "Wonderful, absolutely wonderful and your pretty. Sweetheart, what's your name?"
She blushed at the comment and answered quietly, "Christine."
"Well Christine, I think you'll make it big. The La Cinéma will be glad to have you."
Christine nodded, knowing the La Cinéma was the name of the casino she would be staying at, but not sure how it pertained to her singing career.
The driver went on, "The La Cinéma is known for finding new talent." He saw her confused expression in his mirror and elaborate, "The La Cinéma theme if you will, is theater and the fine arts. La Cinéma is French for The Cinema. The casino has a dozen shows a day from pop singing to heavy rock to the classics."
It must be fate, Christine decided. This was nothing else but fate that this was happening to her; maybe a little bit work from my papa up in heaven.
The driver stopped the limo. The windows were tinted and she couldn't see anything until the driver came and opened her door. He helped her with her bag and Christine tried to give him some of her little money, but he simply said, "This one was on me, Miss."
"What is your name?" Christine asked as she was about to walk away.
"Antonio, Miss," with that he got in his limo and I walked into the casino.
Christine nearly dropped her little bag. The design colors were gold and red. The designing couldn't have been more wonderful; each little detail from the authentic movie theater seats to the golden masks on the wall seemed to be handpicked. Even the slot machines seemed to be only put where their colors would fit in. There were two hallways; one lead to area where she saw slot machines and small stores. In the distance Christine even saw a cafe. The other smaller hallway had a golden sign that read hotel in curly beautiful letters. Christine went into the hallway that said hotel, even though she was eager to go to the other hallway.
Christine walked in to see a large desk that read information. She walked over to it and a pretty blonde girl; maybe thirty said in sickly-sweet voice, "How may I help you?" There was something sharp in her tone that made Christine want to leave.
"I have a key but I'm not sure what my room number is." Christine handed her my key and she scanned it in. Her eyes went wide.
"You're the girl that one of our top players, Mr. Connell called about. You're room is on the thirtieth floor room one hundred Miss." Mr. Connell, Chrsitine thought smiling. It was funny how she had not even known the man's name that she owed so much to until now.
"Thank you," Christine said this in spite of the woman's earlier attitude; she had been taught to always be polite even to the undeserving. Christine turned and went into the shiny golden elevator. The thirtieth floor appeared to be the top and Christine eagerly awaited the long trip up.
It wasn't until the elevator ride that Christine realized how tired she had become. She walked sleepily to her room, not even turning on the lights to gaze at its wonders. Only taking off her shoes, Christine lay down into bed. Before she went to sleep in the cozy king-sized bed, Christine sang.
It was a habit, something she picked up from her father and had been doing since she discovered her talent. Drowsily Christine sang I Just Haven't Met You Yet for the second time today as her eyes closed.
What she didn't know is that a man, or monster as some would come to call him, was walking the halls. No one would notice this man; he was very adept at blending in with the shadows of the night. He happened to be walking by Christine's room when she started singing.
Her voice was like none he'd ever heard; pure but with sorrow, perfect but untrained. That was when he realized what he had to do.
Neither of them had any idea how harmless there intentions would turn out to be.
I hope you guys liked it! This time I'm asking 2 reviews before I update again! Anyone guess who the man (or monster) is? :)
