Christine shrugged her jacket off as she walked through the elevator doors. She hung it on the coat-tree inside the office doors. A portly man in an obnoxiously green suit with a floppy bow tie walked up to Christine.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Christine Daae and I am an editor."

"Ah yes, you were sick for the last two weeks weren't you?" Christine tried not to choke on his cheap cologne.

"Yes, I was. I got hit by a bus."

"Hmmm. Why don't you show me what you were working on when that idiot, Leferve retired."

"Pardon, what is your name?" Christine led the man exuding noxious fumes to her desk.

"How rude of me. I am Piangi Guidicelli. Your new boss and beloved husband of the world-renowned Carlotta Guidicelli."

"Nice to meet you Mr. Guidicelli." Christine held out her hand. Piangi looked at it as if it was diseased.

"I would be delighted if you would call me Signor Piangi." He wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Onwards, then?"

Christine sat in her chair and pulled out the Sorelli manuscripts. "Here they are. I was almost done with this project when I had to take a health leave."

"I see," he said scanning over them, obviously not understanding any of the correctional marks. "And when will this work be done?"

"I think it should be done by sometime next week. It all depends on how well the last stories' grammar is."

"Wonderful," Piangi said under his breath as he handed the papers back to Christine. "I would like to see this on the presses next week."

"Ah -"

"No arguments. This is a business for profit, and if you are not part of making that profit grow, then you are only in the way. I will check up on you later today." He strutted out of the cubicle.

"It takes more than a week to get a book onto the presses, sir," Christine muttered to herself.

---------((0))

"He's just like her, Meg. He wears the most hideous shade of booger green, and smells like those perfume samples you find in magazines."

"Blech."

"And that's not even the worst of it. Get this, he's Carlotta's husband."

"Ewww. Say no more, say no more! He sounds like a total creeper to me."

"He doesn't even know how a book is published. I'd be surprised if he could read."

"Jeez. I thought even Carlotta had better taste than that."

"Ugh. How am I ever going to survive this?"

"The same way you survived Leferve. Grit your teeth and take it."

Christine sighed.

"You know, you could always go back to singing."

"I might. I just might, Meg."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. I saw an ad today for some talent show with a huge grand prize, and I signed up, then and there."

"That's great! Call me and tell me how it turns out!"

"I will. Gotta go, lunch is almost over."

"Wait! I never yelled at you for missing our shopping trip!"

"Meg! I got hit by a bus!"

"That's still not an excuse!" Meg joked.

"I know. And I have another date tonight with my blonde hunk."

"Those black slacks and the sparkly red halter top."

"Thanks so much Meg! Bye!"

"Call me!"

---------((0))

"I love the stars. Especially at this time of year."

"Yeah. How's the cookie dough ice cream?"

"Much better than yours. Vanilla. You never were very adventurous." Christine tugged on his hand as they walked along the sidewalk. "I remember going out to the countryside with Dad one weekend. We pitched tents and built a huge bonfire. Well, he did. Then he took me out to an open field, and he showed me all the stars. You could actually see the Milky Way. It was... spectacular. They sure are beautiful."

Raoul looked over at Christine. "Yes, yo-they are."

She met his eyes and they stopped. He leaned into her lips. Christine's eyes focused on something behind Raoul and she screamed.

Raoul whipped around. "Holy Hell!" From the street lamp was dangling the body of Piangi Guidicelli.

---------((0))

"It's O.K. Christine. Shhh. It's O.K." Raoul stroked her hair as he pulled her onto his lap. A police officer approached them. Raoul tightened his hold on Christine.

"It's O.K. Sir. We just need to talk to your girlfriend here."

Christine pulled away from Raoul, leaving him sitting on the chair in the police station.

"Right this way, ma'am." He pulled open a door and motioned to a chair. "Sit, please. The detective will be with you in a moment."

Christine pulled out the chair with shaking hands and cautiously sat. They already have my statement. What do they want now?

The door opened again to a harassed-looking man of Arab descent in his late forties. "My name is Nadir Kahn, and I am the chief investigator of this case. It is a pleasure to meet you Miss..." he looked down at the folder, "Daae." Christine shook his hand.

"Nice to meet you," she forced out in a quiet voice.

"I am sorry for keeping you here so late, but we found a note on the body addressed to you, Miss Daae."

"A note? For me? I don't get it." she shook her head vehemently.

"Yes, a note Miss Daae. Here," he pulled out the note and slid it across the table, "read it."

"Christine – My oath does not apply to those nearest to you. Stay away from the boy. He may be next... Oh, God."

"The note is complete nonsense to our forensics team. Perhaps you would like to enlighten us as to what the contents of this note mean."

Christine pulled herself together. "No. I have no idea sir. Christine is a common name. Perhaps it was addressed to someone else."

Nadir studied her long and hard. "Thank you for your time, Miss Daae. Feel free to come in if you feel you remember any more details. Anything would help us to solve this poor man's case."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Kahn." Christine walked out of the room.

Nadir looked straight at the one-sided mirror. "Follow her."

---------((0))

"I – would you like to stay, Raoul? You look dead on your feet." Christine stopped. "Not literally, of course, but..."

"Sure, Christine."

"I don't really think you'll fit on the couch. You could sleep with me... No. Not in that sense..."

"It would be just fine to sleep next to you, Christine."

"Thank you, Raoul. I love you so much."

"Me too, dear. Me too."

---------((0))

I couldn't see anything. It was like being stuck in a void. I was weightless.

"I warned you. I told you not to, and you went right ahead and blatantly disobeyed me, Christine." He was clam, dangerously calm.

"Where are we, Erik? Let's just go back to your house," I pleaded.

"Oh, but you cannot." Erik mocked. "Your dear lover is there and it simply would not do to have you together. No. You must remain here, with me. By the Great Charter, is it so hard to just give in?"

"Erik..." Christine ventured cautiously, "Why is Raoul in your house?"

"Because, Christine, he was so close to you, and, what is more romantic than sharing your dreams with your lover?"

"Erik, leave him alone. I – I swear that I won't even look at him again. Just set him free."

"You'll tell him to go and never come back?"

Christine sighed in defeat. "Yes. Just don't harm him. Please."

Erik deliberated for a moment. "You must promise me one thing. You must wear this ring on your left ring finger." He procured a silver ring with a black jewel in it. The jewel swallowed all of the light that came near it, like the void.

I winced at the cold metal touching my flesh as I put it on. "I promise."

---------((0))

Poor Raoul. Or maybe not. Not even I really know if his motives are pure. Keep reading!

Raven Sharpe

(posted 03-17-10)