Though she knew it wasn't so, the thunder that roared overhead sounded as though it could be coming from directly outside her bedroom door. The sound of torrential rain outside could be heard echoing throughout the opera ghost's home and until it had begun to thunder, Christine Daae had found it to be soothing.

All afternoon and evening, Erik had stalked through the cavernous cluster of rooms that he called home, mumbling to himself and pulling out what little hair he had. Although it had been quite easy to keep out of his way and seemingly out of his thoughts, Christine was beginning to grow both worried and lonely.

From the moment she had woken to find herself in this place, she had known that the man who held her captive wasn't entirely there mentally. Now she was truly beginning to question whether she would ever see the light of day again. After all, she'd been there for days already.

At least she thought it had been days. Without a way to see outside at the surface and with no clock in her bedroom, she had no real way to gauge how much time had really passed.

The thunder grew louder, almost as though it was happening inside of her head. Christine thought she might go mad if it continued much longer.

She stood and quickly wrapped herself in the silken dressing gown that Erik had provided for her before lighting a candle and making for the door. I cannot stay another minute here! she decided, standing a little taller as she reached the door.

To her surprise, it opened easily. Had Erik forgotten to lock her in after she had retired for the evening?

As the door wheezed open the flame of her candle flickered and threatened to go out, and she quickly threw her free hand up to shield it from the draft.

Though the air was generally still and humid, Christine found there was an extra coolness to the air in the main of the home. The air felt fresher somehow.

As she took a tentative step out into the hallway, another crack of thunder caused her to jump and nearly drop the candle.

It was the quiet scream that escaped her lips that doomed her. If only the thunder didn't frighten her so. No, she told herself, he still would've known. He always knows. She hesitated when she felt his presence. She knew that if she swung the candle out to try and locate him, he would only step back, keeping to the shadows.

It wasn't a stretch to think how deadly such stealth could be.

"Christine?" His voice sounded small, almost woeful.

"I can't sleep," she replied after a moment. In the distance, she could hear the rain slowing. She hoped that it meant the storm would soon be over, but that was unlikely. It would be too easy.

"And what were you hoping to do about it?" This time when he spoke, he sounded more like the cool, collected man he generally pretended to be when conversing with her. There was still a strange tone to his voice, almost as though he were stifling a sob.

Well, I can't bear it another minute down here, please take me back to the surface this minute! She imagined herself stomping her foot against the slightly damp stone floor to punctuate her demands. She already knew he wouldn't take her seriously.

"I want to go home," she said simply, exasperated beyond belief without even fully entering the conversation. Though she knew she would have to keep her emotions neutral regardless of his response, she could feel a sob working its way up her throat as she anticipated the worst.

The silence that followed her words was more brutal than anything she could've imagined him doing to her.

"What do you plan to do should Erik refuse?" She could almost hear the gears in his head turning. If he wants a game, I'll give him a game.

"What exactly do I have at my disposal, Erik?" she asked, gesturing to the darkness. In the darkness, just at the edge of the light from her candle, she saw a slight flicker of black. The use of his name had caused him to falter, just as she'd expected.

"Plenty," was all he said in reply. She sighed.

"Are you really expecting me to say, 'oh, I'll make a mad dash for the boat, somehow manage to row myself back to the other side of the lake, find my way through your labyrinth of tunnels, and escape?' Really, I would've thought that was what all your warnings when you first brought me here were for."

It was only then that another great clap of thunder caused them both to jump, momentarily forgetting about their conversation as the candle slipped through Christine's fingers.

The flame was extinguished long before the candle hit the floor. The two of them stood in the darkness, silently waiting.

"I think the rain is letting up after all," Erik murmured. "Perhaps you can give sleep one more try before abandoning Erik down here."

It was nearly fully dark, save for a sliver of light from the lamps in Erik's bedroom. That sliver of light was enough to catch on the white mask the man wore. Christine was unsure if he realized she could see the faint outline of his mask. She knew he could see in the dark, but not quite how well.

"Erik—"

"No," he said flatly. There was something so terribly final about the way he said it. Christine felt tears welling in her eyes.

"You can't keep me here forever!" she said, fighting a losing battle to keep her voice from shaking with the disappointment she felt. Once again, her captor was silent. She was so desperately frustrated with his silence.

She closed her eyes to fight back the tears that threatened to loose themselves upon her cheeks. When she opened them again, she could no longer locate his mask in the darkness. So he was aware that I could see him, she thought as she tried to mask her surprise at once again not knowing precisely where he was.

Icy fingers traced strange patterns across the flesh of her neck and she froze. Raoul was right, she thought, beginning to panic. He is going to kill me.

She could feel his breath on her ear as he laughed tauntingly. "You're in no position to make such claims, Miss Daae." His words, as quietly as he spoke them, should have been lost to the cavernous room, yet Christine felt surrounded by his voice much as she had so long ago, when this man was her angel and teacher.

His long, slender fingers hesitated before wrapping around her neck. It was a strangely delicious torture, knowing that he could end her life without much effort. She forced herself to breathe again, knowing that any moment he could cut off her airway.

The echoing thunder finally began to fade as they stood there, each waiting for the other to make a move.

"You would risk damaging my voice in order to put your point across?" Christine asked after what had been an excruciating silence. Erik's grip on her throat tightened, but still only enough to be a threat, not enough to actually do any damage. She grinned defiantly as she received her answer.

"You should return to your room," Erik says after another long silence punctuate only by the distant roar of rainfall. "I should think you will find it sufficiently quiet to sleep now."

He held her there for a heartbeat longer before letting go and seemingly disappearing.

She felt her way back into the bedroom and closed the door behind her, fully expecting to hear the all too familiar click of the lock as she crossed the room to the bed.

The click she expected never came.