Chapter Fourteen
Disclaimer: Take a guess.
Sorceress Morgan le Fay: Yes, I thought that part was rather funny. Of course you can be in the cameo. I'm too nice to say no to anyone. Just send me your info on a review or a PM.
WanderingChild2007: Yes you do! You're so lucky. She was going to kick him there, but I told her NO! So, a kneecap is good enough.
Tsuyayaka: you're mean. IT IS SO THE TOMBSTONE!
Timeflies: How is he? Hmmm, good question… I guess we'll find out in this chapter, won't we?
Erik's Muse: Those ominous creeks are annoying. I will put you in it, but I will need more information than your name. Also… you can help Erik, but the cameo won't be an all out OMIGOD BEAT THE CHARECTORS TO DEATH! And whatnot cameo. That's an odd occurrence for me, but I do want the story to make a little sense.
Me: I think "ominous" is my new favorite word. I like how I mix all those traits, too. Thanks for noticing! I'm trying to keep the story funny (shovels, oh, yeah) and still have some of the angst-seriousness that I love in fics. Thanks for reading!
LonesomeGurlAngelofDeath: Much better!
The-Phangirl-of-the-Opera: Oh, well. At least Tuomas is still there. He's awesome… mostly because he's the keyboards and incredibly hot as well.
Naama: I'm so glad you like it! You are exactly like that. Whether I'm confessing my odd crush on Davy Jones or it's a serious issue, you've always listened to me without a hint of judgment. You're the best!
Sandsagent: No worries, I'm slow, too. I'll give a little more detail in this chapter.
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Once they where a good three blocks from the Superstore and positive that the Phantom wasn't following them, the group stopped. Meg turned to glare at Kaitlyn.
"What the hell was that?"
"What the hell was what?" Kaitlyn replied, still clutching the shovel. She realized what she was doing after a second and tossed it into a snow bank, cursing.
"I thought you kicked his ass or something!" Meg hissed.
"I did! He fell in the snow and I beat him with the snowballs." Kaitlyn replied.
"Then why did he come at us with a shovel?" Naama muttered.
"… Maybe I didn't beat him hard enough…" Kaitlyn mused.
Christine made a pained noise. "Kaitlyn!"
"Do you have any idea how much more dangerous getting rid of him will be now?" Raoul asked. "He disliked us before. Now he hates us."
"I'm pretty sure he hated us before." Naama reminded him. "At least, he hated Emily."
"Hey!" Emily muttered.
"Well, he obviously didn't like being called 'no face'." Naama replied.
"… Alright, so that was an error in judgment…" Emily admitted. "And now he's going to kill us all."
"Don't be so damn melodramatic." Meg snapped.
"Piss off." Emily replied, giving her the finger. Pulling her sleeves down over her hands – a nervous habit – Emily started away from the group. "I'm going home."
"Emily, get your ass back here." Kaitlyn muttered.
"Go to hell."
"Don't be mean!" Naama interrupted.
Emily turned, putting a hand to her forehead. "Look, guys, I'm really tired. I need sleep. But are you going to draw him out tomorrow, or whatever?"
"Hell no." Raoul muttered.
"Yes." Christine whispered.
"… What?" Raoul asked.
"Don't you see what this stupid Phantom is doing to us?" Christine whispered. "I have to get rid of him."
"But he might take you into his hideout forever." Naama murmured.
"I know." Christine whispered. "But that's a chance I have to take.
-
Each person went home with a head full of doubts, but no matter how hard they argued out in the cold, Christine wouldn't listen. Each dreaded what would come of the next day when the Phantom would surely do something unexpected, and perhaps even deadly.
-
The Phantom limped back into the Superstore, pressing a snowball to his knee to dull the pain. Cursing, he slipped through the store and into his dark home under photo, leaving the lights off in favor of the comforting darkness.
Sighing, he sat down on his bed and rested his head against the wall. His mind, against his will, began to sift through his memories, bringing up a good number of exceptionally bad ones from his childhood. He struggled against them for a while but, tiredly, he gave up and let himself collapse over his bed, too tired even for tears. Besides, he could barely remember what he was crying over anymore.
-
"Erik!" a cruel voice sneered – a woman's. "Put those back."
A young boy stood alone in the middle of the cookie isle. He hadn't had a mask then, and his disfigured face was bare for the world to see. Puckered scars of purple and pale, dead-looking flesh crossed over the right side of his face. The other customers in the store grimaced down at him before quickly shuffling away.
He was holding a box of double-stuff Oreos. "But mother, can't we buy them? Just this once?"
"Don't call me that." The woman snapped. She was beautiful, he remembered. Long, flowing blond hair… brown eyes, or green, he couldn't remember which… "And put them back. I've already wasted enough money on you."
The little boy looked over into the cart. All sorts of disgusting adult food was in there – salmon, all-bran cereal, whole wheat enriched bread… he hated it, but he ate it anyways. He knew better than to complain.
"Okay." He put the cookies back, his tongue still longing for the sweet tingle that most other children took for granted.
"Attention customers," an authority's voice came over the P.A., "It's now ten o'clock and Superstore is closed. Please select your final purchase and make your way to the front. Thank you, and have a good evening."
The little boy looked at his mother. A strange look came over her face and in a distant sort of voice, she whispered, "Erik, go to photo and grab me some batteries, alright?"
"But the store is closing."
"It's alright. They'll let you get the batteries. I'll be back to get you in a minute, okay?" for the first time since the little boy could remember, his mother smiled at him. "You stay there and don't move until I come back for you."
He nodded. "Alright." He took off towards the photo department, scuttling as quickly as his little feet could take him.
He didn't bother turning back to catch one last look from his mother. He had no idea that this would be the last time he ever saw her. He had no reason to believe that his own mother would abandon him in the superstore.
-
The next morning, Christine, Raoul, Meg, Naama, Kaitlyn and Emily got up and struggled through their mundane mornings until they got ready for the big night.
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Meg combed her hair as though she was a zombie, staring blackly into the mirror. It was beginning to sink in now, just how precious life was and how easy it was to loose everything that mattered to a person. She paused for a moment, turning to gaze at the phone. She should call someone – Naama, Christine, it didn't matter who – and talk to them. But what did it matter? Sadly, Meg went back to brushing her hair. They were probably going through their mornings much in the same matter that she was.
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Naama stood at the window, watching the snow drift down in big, fat flakes. Taped to the glass was a picture of Her, Meg and Emily sitting around in customer service. She smiled sadly, the tips of her fingers brushing along the glass and leaving ghostly shadows of fog behind.
After a moment, Naama turned back and curled up on the couch, staring off into nothing. It struck her as strange, how everything was riding on this one night. It could be the beginning of Christine's freedom, or the end of life as everyone knew it.
Naama dug into the pillow cushions and pulled out a Jack Sparrow plushy that Emily had given her. She cradled the toy in her arms and, without realizing it, let a few tears slide down her cheeks.
-
Raoul lay in bed, wide awake. Beside him on the pillow was a small ribbon of pictures from one of those photo booths in the mall. Both he and Christine where laughing as they pushed each other out of the picture.
The alarm on his night table began to ring and he turned it off, sliding out of bed. He lifted the picture off the pillow and held it gently in his hand. A dull ache persisted in his chest, reminding him that this dangerous plan had been his idea.
-
Kaitlyn hunched over a book, her cat rubbing against her arm. She flipped through the pages without paying attention to the words and her cat mewed for attention.
With a defeated sigh, Kaitlyn shut the book and gave her cat an absent pet on the head. Riley, to give the cat his proper name, began to purr in pleasure and rolled over in demand for a belly rub.
Today could change everything, she thought.
Kaitlyn indulged him for a moment and then stood, paying no attention to Riley as he stood and mewed in protest. She riffled through her belongings until she found a pencil and her sketch book. She let herself slump onto the bed and she began to sketch, not caring or knowing exactly what she was sketching. It didn't matter, so long as she could do something to occupy her time.
-
Emily sat in her room staring at her Captain Jack Sparrow poster. Nightwish was playing loudly, but it wasn't taking away her thoughts as she had hoped.
She felt as though it was her fault. She had pissed off the Phantom. She had planned the whole "ignore him and he will go away". Why did she feel that she had to intervene? Since when did being followed around by someone with mental problems at school make her the expert on problems?
"I'm the worst friend in the world." She murmured.
The beat from the music made Emily sway along. Tears prickled at her eyes as a deep male voice spoke from the CD player.
"My tale is the most bitter truth/ Time pays us but with earth & dust, and a dark, silent grave/ Remember, my child: Without innocence the cross is only iron/ hope is only an illusion & Ocean Soul's nothing but a name/ The Child bless thee & keep thee forever"
-
Christine looked out into her room without really taking notice of her surroundings. She was about to risk everything, but, strangely, she'd never felt so calm in her entire life.
Listlessly, she shuffled over to her laptop and started typing a note. At first, she thought it was just to her parents. But as she typed, she began to write it to her friends, and to Raoul. She'd known them all for such a short time, but as she typed she discovered that they meant more to her than anything else. Her letter came to a close, letting each of her friends know just how precious they where. Then, after sealing it and tucking it away in her purse, she grabbed her Jacket and started off for the Superstore.
-
Awww, poor Christine. I'm sorry about the short chapter; I promise that the cameo starts in the next one.