Chapter Eleven: Interference

Thanks to gravity01 for pointing out a mistake. In the original draft, Christine was on her way to a voice lesson, but in the last chapter, Erik postponed all future lessons. Obviously, that's a bit of a problem, so I've changed it to fit the plot. Sorry for any confusion!

Nadir couldn't seem to calm down. He would pace the floor nervously, sit down, and then start pacing again.

Something was wrong. He could feel it in his bones. Years of being an inspector told him that a change in the wind was brewing. He just wished he knew exactly what that change would entail.

Then, there was the matter of Erik. He hadn't mysteriously appeared from out of the shadows, like Nadir would've expected. In fact, he hadn't seen his masked acquaintance at all since that first night. He'd thought that Erik would've made another appearance to warn him off, to threaten him in hopes that he would leave. But, Erik had truly been like a ghost for the past few weeks. No trace of him could be found anywhere.

Nadir still believed that something strange was going on between Erik and that girl, Christine Daaë. To the Persian, it almost seemed as though Erik believed he cared for her. Yet, Nadir knew Erik's nature better than anyone. The masked genius would be obsessed with something until he completely devoured it. No doubt that he would view the girl as a possession, something that rightly belonged to him. If Christine had become one of his obsessions, she might not survive.

Once again, Nadir dialed Erik's number on his cell phone. And, once again, all he heard was an answering machine.

The Persian sank into a chair and put his face in his hands. Oh, Erik, he wondered. What pain are you causing now? All Nadir knew was that eventually, something would explode, and he'd have a masked madman to deal with.

o0o

Despite Christine's apprehensions, Mr. Buquet didn't even look at her during Spanish. Not that she trusted him; no, she knew that he was a viper. As soon as the class ended, she grabbed her textbook and left the room. The last thing she needed was to be alone with him again.

"Hey, wait up!" Meg reached out and grabbed Christine's arm, managing to slow her paranoid friend. "What's up with you, Christine? You act as though Satan himself is after you."

Christine shuddered at her friend's words. Oh, Meg… you have no idea how close you are to the truth. Forcing a smile, she merely shook her head and said, "I have to go practice, and I want to get to the music building before all of the practice rooms are taken."

"Ah, yes; the opera Nazi calls," Meg stated.

"He's not a monster, Meg," Christine quietly argued. She purposefully didn't mention she was no longer having lessons.

"No, he's just an overgrown baby with control issues."

"Knock it off. I'll call you later, alright?"

Meg clearly didn't approve of Christine going to the voice lesson, but all she said was, "Okay. Go on; I'd hate for him to be mad at you because of me."

Laughing, Christine playfully shoved her best-friend. "Thanks a bunch; I'm glad to know that you care so much about my well-being." On the way to the practice rooms, she stopped by the office again. Why is it closed early? she wondered, frustrated. She really did need to talk to the board about her Spanish professor. Tomorrow, she promised herself. I'll come early tomorrow, and all of my problems will be solved.

Even though she knew he wouldn't be there, she decided to take a quick peek in the room where she had her voice lessons. Maybe he changed his mind, or he was playing some kind of weird prank. Erik, prank? she scolded herself, not with the way he has been lately. Still, she couldn't stop herself from harboring the tiniest hope. The hallways grew more and more isolated the closer she was to the classroom, and without knowing why, she shivered and felt cold. Finally, she reached the room.

Please be here, please be here… the brunette fervently entreated as she entered through the doorway. She looked around, and an empty classroom was all that was in front of her. Exhaling angrily, she turned to go… and stopped immediately. There, standing between her and the doorway, was Joseph Buquet.

Fear instantly began to build within her. "Move, please; you're in my way." She fought to keep her voice steady, but some of her anxiety must have leaked into her voice, for he smirked. "I'm afraid I can't do that, Christine." Slowly, deliberately, he started moving towards her. Eyes wide, she stepped back, trying to put more distance between them.

"I'm warning you." Stay calm, stay calm! her mind screamed. It was like having a face-off with a snake: slow, cautious steps were all that would help her escape, and she mustn't let the predator know she was frightened.

Buquet laughed in response to her threats. "No one else is in this part of the building. Go ahead; scream. No one will hear you." As he moved even closer, Christine felt her back hit the wall. Before she could move, Buquet was pressed up against her, forcing her to stay pinned against the wall. A slimy hand traced the length of her arm. No, no, NO!

"I swear, I'll tell everyone," the petrified girl whispered. "Your career will be ruined."

"Christine, what a stupid girl you are," sneered the professor, moving his hand up to stroke her cheekbone. The girl shuddered, closed her eyes in disgust, and turned her face so it'd be out of his reach. "I'm on the board; if I say that you threw yourself at me, everyone will believe it, and you will be expelled from the university. You have no witnesses, no way of proving anything. Look at me," he added in a growl. He grabbed her chin and forced her face back towards him, squeezing her face so she couldn't speak. "I told you that I always get what I want in the end. Now, be a good student and behave. Nothing is going to stop me, so I suggest you suck it up and enjoy it as much as you can." As he finished, he lunged forward and attempted touched his mouth to her virgin lips. With a cry of outrage, she bit down on his lip, hard. He yelled and jerked his head back. Blood stained his lip, and Christine was viciously glad that she'd hurt him. But, her triumph soon gave way to horror. "You're going to regret that," he snarled, lunging towards her once again. She screamed and fought like a wild animal, but soon, he was holding her both her hands above her head with one of his and holding them against the wall. His other hand moved to her waist, and she whimpered in fear. Please, God, don't let it hurt, she prayed, desperately trying to force her mind off of what was about to happen. She closed her eyes. If I can't see you, you can't see me. The childish game flashed through her tortured mind. See no evil… see no evil… see no evil… If I can't see you, you can't see me…

Then, as all hope seemed to be have evaporated, a beautiful voice rang out, loud and clear. "Stop!"

Christine's eyes immediately opened, and standing in the doorway was Erik.

"Erik!" she cried, relief flooding through her. I'm saved! Erik will protect me. He won't let this monster hurt me.

Buquet's lip curled. "Ah, Erik. Have you come to share?"

Erik did not portray any emotion. In a completely calm voice, he gave his order. "Release her, Buquet."

To Christine's surprise, the man laughed. "Release her? Surely you know as well as anyone that a criminal never releases what he has stolen." As if to test Erik, Buquet caressed the side of Christine's face again. She flinched and looked at Erik pleadingly. His eyes flashed dangerously, and he started to advance cautiously.

"It would be wise to release her," he said in a low voice. "Now."

"Let's pretend that I'm not wise." Buquet was touching her hair now. Cringing, she thought, I'm REALLY going to have to wash my hair after this… about twelve times.

"You have until the count of three."

The evil professor laughed again. "No."

"One…"

The hand was sliding down her side. "Erik…"

"Two…"

She was squirming now. If Buquet was going to have his way, then he would be having it with a dead body. "Erik!"

"Three!"

As soon as the final number rang through the air, Buquet's smug expression turned to one of pain. Screaming, he clutched his right wrist with his left hand and sank to the floor. What Christine saw filled her with horror. A rope was around the professor's wrist, which appeared to be broken. Erik was holding the other end of the rope, his eyes burning in hatred towards the man on the floor. In that moment, he looked like an angel of vengeance, filled with a dark and terrible beauty. Christine stared, her eyes incapable of fully comprehending the scene in front of her. Then, Erik looked up, and he instantly changed. He held out his hand towards her. Shaking, she stumbled over the fallen man and took it. Dropping the strange lasso he held, Erik put his arm around her protectively and led her to the door. Before they exited the room, however, Erik turned slightly to face Buquet again.

"Never touch her again," Erik growled. Buquet paled. "If you so much as touch one strand of her hair, your life will be forfeit." He turned again and led his angel from the room. They didn't stop walking until they were outside. Once Christine felt the cool air, she broke down.

"Poor Christine…" her savior said quietly, pulling her close to him. She buried her head on in his chest and put her arms around him, shivering violently. Everything was so cold, but Erik was so warm. The arms holding her were strong, and she felt truly safe in his embrace. And, as he held her while she cried, somehow, they were made complete, if only for a little while.

Finally, she managed to dry her tears. He still didn't let her go, and she couldn't make herself angry with him.

"Thank you," she whispered. "I… I don't know what I would have done if… if…"

"You are safe now, Christine," the masked man promised. A slight pressure touched the top of her head, and she vaguely wondered if he had kissed her hair. She didn't care, though; all she wanted was to be comforted.

"Do you want me to take you home?" he asked, concerned. She shook her head adamantly.

"No… I'll only be alone.."

"Then, where do you want me to take you? Where do you want to be?"

Before she could think of the logic behind her thinking, she had given him an answer. "I want to be wherever you are."

o0o

"Come on, Christine! Pick up the phone!" groaned a very frustrated Raoul de Chagny as he called his girlfriend's cell phone once again. As the answering machine played for what must have been the twelfth time, Raoul threw his phone down in frustration. Christine hadn't contacted him since that morning, and he was worried sick about her. She usually let him know whenever she arrived at work and her house. She was incredibly endearing in the sense that she was so feminine; she always felt the need to let him know that she was safe, which secretly made him feel ecstatic. However, over twelve hours without a word to either him nor Meg… that was just unusual. He prayed that she was safe, and as he grabbed his phone to resume his calling, he determined that he would find Christine, even if she didn't want to be found.

o0o

Christine groaned when she woke several hours later. She squinted as she tried to persuade her eyes to become accustomed to the sunlight that was streaming through her window. Suddenly, she shot up in bed, her eyes wide with terror. She didn't recognize this room! Where was she? Had she been captured, after all?

"Good morning."

Shifting, she saw Erik standing in the doorway, watching her. Everything that had taken place the night before hit her, and she could only stare helplessly for several moments.

"Where… where am I?" she whispered, not knowing if she should really strive to know the answer.

"You are in my home," his angel's voice explained.

"Your home? But, I… I need… what I mean to say is that I don't have anything I need," she stuttered.

He sighed. "A change of clothes is waiting for you in the bathroom," he told her, indicating a joining room. "Come quickly; I must return you before the fools of the world start to miss you."

Posted on October 2, 2010