Chapter 4
"There are darknesses in life and there are lights, and you are one of the lights, the light of all lights."
― Bram Stoker, Dracula
Christine was two glasses in when she began laughing hysterically at Raoul's slurred rendition of the family dog knocking Philip into the pool during a posh business party. She was laughing into his shoulder with tears in her eyes as Raoul recounted the look on his brother's face. They had been keeping the conversations light hearted despite the melancholy atmosphere when mentioning Christine's father. The two children never spoke of it again that night and began behaving like they used to back when they were young and not weighed down by the suffering of adulthood.
"He was so angry, and I swear I thought his head was going to literally explode!" Christine couldn't help but let out an un-lady like snort, and threw her hand to her mouth to stifle the unbecoming sound in embarrassment.
"No, don't." Raoul said while reaching up and removing her hand from covering that pretty smile she had. "Your laugh is adorable, and you shouldn't be ashamed of it." She still sheepishly looked around to see if anyone heard her, and Raoul interrupted her worrisome trek by gently touching her chin and directing her face back to his. "These are old stuffy people, and you shouldn't worry about what they think." He laughed at himself, and Christine couldn't tell if it was the alcohol or his charming disposition that made her stomach flop.
"I've been ignoring them for years, and look how I've turned out!"
"Yes, you are quite charming." She airily blurted out, but loudly gasped once she realized she had said that out loud. Christine glanced at Raoul with wide eyes hoping he didn't look at her like she was a nitwit. However, all she got was a devilishly handsome smile in reply before he stood up and offered her his hand. She glanced at his open palm hesitantly before taking it and making a wobbly attempt to stand. How many glasses did she have? She put her free hand on his chest to steady herself giving him an opportunity to lean closer to her ear. "Let's get out of here?" He whispered, bringing his face dangerously close to hers, evidently searching her face for any sign of rejection. Christine wasn't new to this sort of advancement, but that still didn't calm her fluttering nerves. She was a grown woman, for goodness sakes! She should be jumping in elation over the fact that a good looking man such as Raoul wanted to possibly take her back to his place.
Oh, but this was breeching past her safety zone, and once she was out in the open, she was prone to all kinds of harmful things. But, she had told herself she needed a night out to forget about all her worries, and Raoul was such a sweet, polite guy. He would chase away the demons that have been haunting her, wouldn't he? She had been fighting for so long. Perhaps she just wanted someone to sweep her off her feet just for one night. She must have been thinking too long, for Raoul took her apprehension as bubbling rejection, and took a step back to give her room.
"Christine? Are you alright?"
"What?" She had asked. "Oh, yeah, I'm fine!" She ran her hands through her hair in a nervous gesture. "We can go, but I'll just need to tell my friend…" She glanced back at the table she shared with the Giry's, but Meg and her mother were gone; they probably disappeared among the crowd of chattering people. "Well, actually I'll just send her a text later." She would have to use Raoul's phone since hers was locked in the car, but that shouldn't be a problem. Before she could change her mind she turned back to Raoul and tightened the grip she had on his hand.
This time, Christine was the one to take charge and lead them to the exit causing an amused Raoul to follow her behind. He was not one to complain. They hurriedly weaved their way past tables and hoards of mingling groups not even noticing the appalled looks on some of the guest when elbows bumped. They acted like children again; young, carefree, and not able to give a damn what the adults thought of them. They were laughing, giggling and stumbling their way across the room until they burst through the doors fingers still laced together with large grins plastered on their faces. Christine had no idea why she was acting so out of character around him, but he inspired something akin to joy within her. He was such a sweet young boy when they were kids, and now he was a charming man who still didn't care that she was just a poor violinist's daughter. He was the last living and mentally stable person who shared memories of her father. Christine was able to relive those memories through him, and she finally felt a small sliver of peace build up inside her.
Nothing was ever able to make her feel that way except…that music. No, no, no, she would not let that spoil what little bit of fun she was having. She was allowed to go out with other people without feeling remorseful, damn it! But for some reason, she could not help feeling like she had started the clock on a ticking time bomb.
Not sure if it was the alcohol or her paranoia that made her stomach lurch, but she suddenly stopped her trot across the lobby causing a befuddled Raoul to crash into her.
"Are you alright, Chrissy?" Raoul was still behind her and could not see the color drain from her face as the nausea was building, but her hunched over form gave him the hint she was not doing too well. He let go of her hand and kept his arms ready to catch her if she should collapse, but she turned to face him with an uneasy smile etched on her face.
"I think I just need to splash some cold water on my face."
"Do you need me to walk you to the restrooms?" He inquired with deep concern. She was such a fragile looking girl, and she looked like she would fall over and break any minute.
"No, I'm fine." She insisted already backing away from him. "I'll just be a minute." Christine turned towards a random hallway as gracefully as she could manage and began searching for the bathrooms. Her heels clicked on the polished marble floors as she took a few turns while keeping her hand touching the wall to steady herself. Various small chandeliers and wall lights illuminated her path but much to her dismay, it was not as well lit as the banquet. Had she taken a wrong turn? The restrooms couldn't be this far away from the banquet hall, could they? The only doors she had noticed along the way were thick wooden office doors, but it was possible she walked by her destination without noticing. She felt the chiffon and silk layers of her skirts brush by her ankles when she stopped walking. Intending to retrace her steps, she picked up the long layers of fabric making sure it didn't get caught around her feet before facing her previous route. However, she let out a small shriek upon finding darkness engulfing the previously lit hallway.
"H-hello? Can someone turn the lights back on?" She asked, hoping a janitor or some attendant would possibly hear her plea. Christine couldn't take her eyes away from darkness, convinced inky black tendrils were going to sneak up and snake themselves around her body intending to swallow her up. She began to slowly back further into the light praying nothing could touch her as long as she was encased in its warm glow.
"This isn't funny anymore!"
Lurking in the black abyss, her pursuer did not reply to her desperate shouting, nor could she hear anyone coming to her aid. It was as if the thick murkiness devoured her voice, completely silencing her from the outside world. Was this the end? Was she finally ensnared in the monster's grasp? The light bulbs creating her cocoon of light began buzzing and dangerously flickering.
No, not today. She refused to be a fish caught in the fisherman's net. Slowly she picked up her skirt to reveal her strappy shoes before carefully removing both from her feet. Her eyes never left the dark, for she knew if she turned away she could not look back. When the final strap slipped off her delicate foot, the flickering bulb took its last wheeze before snuffing out and she ran. Her pretty shoes were swallowed up in blackness as she ran to the last remaining sources of light. The more she ran the more the lights extinguished themselves behind her preventing Christine from stopping. Up the stairs, down another hall, left turn here, she blindly kept running towards the light not realizing she was being herded. Christine was panting and her lungs were burning, but she willed her legs to keep going despite their raging protests. She had no idea where she was in the building, but she didn't care; she just had to stay away from the dark. Christine slowed down to take a corner and used her free hand to pivot around, but stumbled when she was met with a dark hallway.
Her other hand, that was clutching the multiple layers of her skirt, fell down to her side, releasing the fabric back to her feet. Christine panicked and turned back around only to be reminded that the darkness was right at her heels the entire time. The only illumination remaining was a small ceiling light over her head that she knew was going snuff out her last hope. Frantically, she looked around and found a door a few feet down the hall. She scrambled to get her hands on the door knob, praying it was unlocked, and cried out in despair when it opened only to reveal a small broom closet. Regardless, she scurried inside and firmly shut the door before looking for a light switch. Her hands felt along the walls only to find bottles of various cleaning supplies but not a light switch.
She was a cornered animal.
Not knowing what else to do, she tightly closed her eyes and put her hands over her head waiting for the attack. Her body was trembling and her knees sank to the floor unable to hold her weight up any longer before the sobs started to escape her throat. Her back crashed against the shelves causing a mop to fall on the floor with a loud crack. Christine sat on the floor in pure horror which only intensified when the door creaked open. As she was kneeling on the floor, she felt a shiver attack her body as the air cooled and shifted like death itself enlightened her with its presence. Christine sobbed harder knowing this was the end for her. The hunt was over.
"Oh, Christine." A voice so very distinctively male remorsefully called out to her, a soothing voice she had only heard in her dreams. Was an angel coming to save her? No, there was no such thing. She only sobbed in reply to the beautiful voice as crystalline tears fell down her face and smeared the little makeup she wore.
"Do not cry, my dear. There is nothing to fear in the dark as long as I am here." Then, she felt cold hands so very gently touch her own to coax them away from her eyes. They were hesitant as if they were afraid she would break under too much pressure. The touch reminded her of feathers delicately brushing her skin. She unclenched her eyes unsurprisingly finding herself still in the dark. "Do you see, Christine? Nothing is going to harm you; the darkness can be your friend."
Lights and colors danced in front of her vision making her feel dizzy, and the nauseating lump in her stomach did not cease in its efforts to make her sick.
"W-who are you?" She cursed at herself for sounding so meek and afraid like the little mouse she was. She could still feel the hands faintly caressing her own, moving their way across her finger and over her wrist. Christine was too terrified to snatch them away, but made no attempts to suppress the shudder of revulsion. Thankfully, her caresser noticed and let go of her appendages in agonizing shame.
"I am merely a friend; a friend who only wants to help you. You have been so alone and broken since your father's death, and it is such a shame for a voice as pure as yours to rot away."
"You are the one who has been sending me the notes, then?"
"As I have said before, I only want to help you." Her pursuer neither admitted nor denied her accusation outright, but it was obvious that he had been the one harassing her. He was so lost in this mindset of generosity that he couldn't even comprehend the severity of his actions. Stalking and harassing along with breaking in someone's home was illegal last time she checked. She had to find a way out of here, but she knew if she tried to escape, he could easily thwart her attempts. She wasn't even sure where he was…sometimes it was as if his voice resonated only inside her head. It was too unearthly sounding, and that terrified Christine even more.
"L-listen, I have to get back to my friend. He's been waiting for a long time, and he'll come looking for-" Her plead for escape was cut short with one of the most animalistic cries of rage that Christine had ever heard. She threw herself away in terror and cried out in pain when her back slammed into the shelves behind her causing various heavy bottle to fall on top of her before crashing to the floor.
She cowered on the floor her hands returning to her face to hide away from the monstrous sound. He however, was not accepting of her cowardice and violently grasped her arms and dragged her onto her feet. She let out a shriek of pain and terror as she was forced to stand and look at, what she assumed, was her captor's face.
"That boy will be the downfall of you, Christine! Do you believe that he genuinely cares about you or your music? He is a boy born of wealth and glamour with very little regard for anyone outside his station!"
His voice threw itself in all directions and momentarily disoriented Christine; she was uncertain of its actual whereabouts. One moment she heard him as if he were standing on her right, then it was as if he materialized behind her regardless of the fact that there were only shelves pressed against her back.
"He does not deserve your affections, Christine!" His voice was so close to her ear she could have sworn that she felt his breath gently flutter against her soft cheek. Her hand reached up and rubbed the infected area in efforts to cease the tingling chill that marred her flesh. For a moment, his angered speech ceased, and Christine could only hear her noisy, shallow breathing. Her heart was hammering against her ribcage and her jaw clenched the scream that threatened to erupt from her pretty throat. For just one blissful moment, Christine thought that he had left, and she was free to go, however, the accursedly beautiful voice spoke up again leaving her in despair once more.
"Your voice could make the angels weep my dear, but with certain earthly distractions, it will never reach its potential." The anger tainting the heavenly sound had dissipated leaving only deep sorrow, a sorrow indicating that this just was not about boys distracting her vocal abilities.
"Promise me, Christine. Promise me that you will never see that boy again. Swear your loyalty to music and you will have the world beseech you."
Not knowing what else to do, she promised her dark tormentor. At this point, she would have promised anything to keep him calm. He seemed satisfied at her answer, despite the desperate tone in her voice, and snatched his hands away once he realized they were damaging her flesh. A low moan of despair reached Christine's ears, as a finger brushed by the bruises hidden in the dark. How could he see anything in the pitch-blackness? His breathing became erratic while muttering out quiet apologies, and slumped to the floor with a loud smack.
"Forgive me, my dear. Please forgive me…" He kept muttering it over and over again in pure heart wrenching anguish. His tone was losing stability each second that passed as he tormented himself over his uncontrollable anger. She knew she would be doomed if she didn't do something to prevent him from slipping into madness.
She remembered seeing hostage and kidnapping situations on the news when bodies were found rotting in some obscure home. Would they find her body decomposing on the side of the road a few weeks after she had gone missing or would she be one of those girls locked in a basement only to be used as some sexual doll?
Keep the perpetrator calm until you find an escape route, right? That's what they always said, no?
How could she keep him calm when her own composure was breaking bit by bit, for Christ's sake? But, she had to try. Her father wouldn't want her to end like this…
"Why- Why would you want to help someone like me? I'm nobody special, and there are plenty of girls out there more talented than I." Christine hoped she seemed humble enough for his liking since she assumed it was what he wanted to hear. She didn't hear him speak for a long moment as he regained his self-control. Despite his moment of weakness, he easily returned to the imposing, authoritative disposition once displayed earlier. It was a dizzying game of back and forth. Who the hell was this shadow man?
"My dear, it is unbelievable how little conviction you have towards yourself. You can't hide away in your shell forever, Christine. You see, I will not allow it." His voice was astonishingly soothing despite that moments ago, it was enraged and breaking. Each syllable he pronounced made a thicker fog fall over Christine's head and, to her embarrassment, she became enticed by that ethereal sound. Something inside her was drawn to him, and she felt a slight tugging in her chest when he spoke so lovingly. She knew that he was dangerous beyond a doubt, and her mind was screaming at her to run, but her feet would not budge. She was a starved lamb who was offered a platter of food by the greedy wolf.
"Do not worry, Christine. I have made many plans for you and very soon you will see the beautiful woman that I see." With that, Christine shook away the foggy mess clouding her mind with this new information.
"Plans? W-wait, what sort of plans are you talking about?"
"All will be revealed in good time, Christine. Just know that I will always be on your side." He sounded distant despite that there was nowhere for him to go other than the door they came from.
"Hold on! You can't just do these things without my consent; I don't even know who you are! Why are you doing thi-" Before she could finish her sentence she was blinded by a bright light, and her eyes squinted in agony at the sudden change.
"Christine?! What the hell are you doing in here?" The hallway was still enveloped in darkness, but Meg was using her smartphone as a temporary flashlight. The harsh beam of light was still blinding Christine, but Meg gently lowered it at seeing Christine's pain.
"Oh God, Meg!" Christine dashed out of the closet and slammed the door, to prevent her pursuer from coming after her, before throwing her arms around the startled girl. "Someone is in the closet Meg! Oh God, he's in there still!"
"W-what? Who is in there?"
"I don't know who he is, Meg! I was so scared; I thought I…" Christine saw the look of terror slowly etch itself on Meg's face. The solitary light from her phone created harsh shadows across Meg's horrified face which grew more disturbed upon Christine's breakdown. Christine knew Meg wasn't exactly as bold as she liked to pretend. Hell, Meg wouldn't even set foot inside any haunted houses during Halloween nor would she approach old abandoned buildings that were infamous for being haunted. She was the first to scream about ghosts the second something semi-paranormal happened. So, it was a shock to Christine when Meg put her hand on the door knob while the other death gripped on her phone. "Meg! Don't open the door; he's dangerous!" But, her friend didn't listen to her pleas and swung open the door, anyway. Christine shamefully cowered behind her stupidly brave friend preparing for a lunatic to lunge at them in rage.
"Oh my God, Christine! Are you kidding with me right now? Nobody is in here!"
Christine cautiously looked passed the irritated woman's shoulders to find that she was right; it was just an ordinary broom closet.
"That's impossible…"
" This wasn't funny, Christine! I'm already scared enough from the power outage and, not to mention, you disappeared on me…"
Meg forcefully grabbed Christine's wrist and practically dragged the traumatized girl down where she came from with the small beam being their only navigating light.
Christine said nothing as the two young women trekked their way to the exit. Her mind was elsewhere trying to fit the pieces of a complicated puzzle together. That voice. There had to be someone with her; there just had to be! But, no one was there, and that boggled Christine to the point of insanity. Or, was she already insane? Had she been moving things around, writing notes to herself, hearing voices…? Was she delusional? Fearing a shadow man was stalking and watching her every move was pretty much textbook schizophrenia. God, her skin still tingled where she felt him softly touched her hand, and her arms still burned and ached from his anger.
Wait, her arms.
She glanced down at her arms and, sure enough, she could see angry bruises starting to form on her arms. The distance did not match the size of her hand, so she could not have done this to herself. He was in there. But, one question still remained: how did he escape?
"…and I really didn't appreciate your boyfriend barging into the bathrooms and scaring the bajeebus out me as I was putting on my lipstick. It went all over my-"
"Wait, you saw Raoul?" The poor guy must have thought the worst when she didn't come back.
"Huh? Oh, yes. He just barged in the woman's restroom shouting your name, and I told him that I knew you. He said you were just going to the restrooms and never came back. Poor guy must have thought you passed out somewhere."
"Is he still here?" She inquired already forgetting her promise to never see him again.
"Honey, I'm sure he left with everybody else. I mean, if you wanted to give him the ol' ditch-a-roo, you could have at least warned me instead of running off."
"I didn't ditch-"
Promise me, Christine.
On second thought, perhaps it was better this way. Well, until she could figure out this intriguing insanity plaguing her life. So, for now, she wouldn't pursue a relationship with her old friend lest she face unknown consequences from the mysterious shadow man.
"Never mind, actually."
She was used to being alone, but that didn't mean she didn't feel her heart slightly break at the missed opportunity. She always wanted more of an intimate relationship with Raoul, but she was too young and shy to fully grasp her feelings before she moved out of his life. Even at her second chance for redemption, she had to let him go once again. The thought blackened her mood as they made their way into the dark, abandoned lobby. The beautiful mural above was cast in a gloomy shadow that masked the genius architecture. The entire lobby looked haunted and forsaken without the throngs of people and dancing lights to feed its soul. All was quiet and slightly eerie which made Christine's skin crawl. Was he watching her right now? Was he lurking in the shadows waiting for her to make her next move?
There were still two attendants waiting by the door with flashlights to guide anyone left out of the building, and they were relieved to see Christine.
"Thank goodness you found her, Miss Giry." An older man spoke to them who most likely was some sort of manager. No doubt he was relieved to find the missing guest unharmed lest they find themselves in a lawsuit.
"I'll call off the search, and let the staff know they can go home. Are you alright Miss Daae? Did something happen to you?"
Christine paled at the man's question, but pacified her churning stomach when she recognized innocent concern for her well-being. They couldn't exactly have a guest go missing and turn up injured during a power outage. That's bad for business.
"No, I'm fine. I had gotten lost upon searching for the restrooms, then the lights went out. I'm fine, really."
She glanced over at Meg and silently willed her to stay quiet over the closet incident. The last thing Christine wanted was a series of questions that would make her sound like an asylum escapee. Not to mention, the previous events had worn her out, and all she wanted to do was to sink into her soft bed, and drift off into a dreamless slumber.
Meg let an impatient sigh and pretended not to notice the forlorn stare she was receiving from her roommate.
"All right, Christine. Let's get going; mom has been waiting with the car in a panic over your little adventure." It was understandable that Meg was a little irritated; nobody particularly liked babysitting the drunk, belligerent friend who ruined everyone's night. Although, Christine would have like to point out the many times she held Meg's hair back as her face became well acquainted the toilet after too many martinis, but she bit back the retort. They were both too tired for bickering tonight.
"I'm sorry if I kept everybody so late." Christine looked apologetically at the older gentleman. The staff looked exhausted as well, no doubt from preventing mass panic while evacuating the building.
"No worries, Miss Daae. We are just glad you were found safe and sound. Enjoy the rest of your night, ladies." They held the door open for their last remaining guests, and before Meg could drag Christine around like a child, she yanked her hand back and walked towards the door on her own. The night sky was a black abyss with very few stars peeking around the dark blanket, no doubt because of the city lights frightening them away. December snow had fallen from the night sky earlier in the evening leaving a brisk layer of ice crystals clinging to the frozen ground. Christine had left her shawl back inside the building, and she was not, for any reason, going back in there tonight; so the night air felt colder and more miserable than before. She lingered in the doorway for an extra second before stepping outside, but reeled back into Meg when chilling pain shot up through her feet. She lifted up her skirts hoping nothing sliced through her foot, but had noticed that her shawl was not the only thing she forgot.
Oh, Damn.
"Chrsitine, what is wrong-" Meg moved passed her and followed Christine's line of vision.
"Where the hell are your shoes?!" Meg was evidently at her boiling and was practically yelling at the poor girl.
"You know what? Never mind, I don't even want to know. You're just going to have to suck it up and walk to the car."
The SUV had pulled up and it was only twenty feet away, but the cold concrete felt like pin-needles piercing through her skin. She hitched up her skirts and gallantly dashed towards the warm awaiting vehicle and quickly hopped in once she threw open the door. Christine sat back on the warm seats and began massaging her poor feet. They went through a lot today.
"Are you alright, Christine?"
Mrs. Giry was already in the driver's seat awaiting a much slower paced Meg. She was a stern woman, but she never hesitated to offer help when needed. It was what she did for a living, anyway.
"I'm fine, thank you."
As helpful as the older woman was, Mrs. Giry never pressed into matters that weren't her business, unlike her daughter, and accepted the fact that Christine was not going to delve into more details concerning her whereabouts.
Before Christine had even contemplated saying more, Meg had thrown open the door and plopped down in the front seat.
"Can we please, just go now?"
What a night.
Christine was feeling numb the entire car ride back to the Giry's, and it was not because of the cold. She vacantly stared back out the window the entire ride, completely lost in her thoughts. Meg decided to crash back at her parent's house, too tired to want to drive back to their small apartment. As tempting as the offer was to stay with the Giry's, Christine drove her car back home after insisting she didn't have that much to drink. It was a lie, but the previous events had sobered her up enough to make the quick drive home. Besides, she didn't have any spare clothes and she had to work in the morning. She tried to convince herself it was for the best but, truthfully, she wanted to be alone for a while. She didn't feel ill again until she reached her door and stumbled to put the key in the lock. She wasn't even sure she had closed the front door all the way before she hurled herself into the bathroom to relieve her stomach. It was at that moment, she realized that she was truly alone, and she cried right there on the cold bathroom floor.
She had no idea how her life became such a mess. Raoul was gone, she was quite possibly losing her mind or, worse some deranged lunatic was trying to possess her entire life. Possess her voice, was more like it.
What sick plans could be in store for her? Should she go to the police? Would they even believe her? How did he disappear so quickly?
More and more sickening thoughts plagued her mind that agitated her stomach and caused her face to become acquainted with the toilet once more. When she was sure that was the last of her dinner, she shakily stood up to wash her face off and brush the taste of bile off of her teeth before she pitifully crawled into her soft bed. Christine didn't own too many nice things in her life, but she made sure to invest in a large plush mattress that served her well the last few years. She stripped off Meg's dress, not caring about hanging it up, and wrapped herself in the warm blankets. She could almost hear her bones and muscles sigh in relief when the mattresses formed to the contour of her body.
She was too exhausted to think anymore. Too exhausted to feel, and too exhausted to care how her abandoned shoes appeared back in her open closet.