Hello from Orlando! :)
Here is a shorter, slightly more transitional chapter that begins (kind of) Part 2 of the story. I'm estimating about 35 chapters in total. As I'm sure you're guessing, beware the dark Erik for a while. I'd even go so far as to call Erik and Cameron almost the co-villains for these next chapters- although they have very different motivations and goals. And I'm sure one has our sympathy far more than the other. Right? ;)
Speaking of that, love your wonderful feedback and love that people are conflicted about pairings. Glad that I've written a likeable Raoul.
Read and Review!
"Hi, Erik. What can I do for you today?"
"Authorized password required to access Canadian immigration records."
"Software is searching for vulnerabilities in system. Please wait a moment. Vulnerability found. Vulnerability exploited. You are now logged in."
"Searching for Raoul Chagny. Found. Entered country on September 2nd, 2038. Click to access attached documents."
"Searching for Christine Daae. No records found."
"Searching for Christine Daae. No records found."
"Searching for Megan Giry. Found. Entered country on September 2nd, 2038."
"No documents found for Megan Giry. Attempting to resolve discrepancy."
"I'm sorry, Erik. The discrepancy could not be resolved. No documents found for Megan Giry. Possible human error."
"You're entering Events. You have canceled the event for September 2nd."
"Please access manual controls to change or turn off events. Manual controls overridden. All detonations still secured and set for noted dates."
"Erik, you said, 'I hate you.' Hate is defined as intense dislike. I'm sorry; I don't understand the command."
"Erik, you said, 'I hate you.' Hate is defined as intense dislike. I'm sorry; I don't understand the command."
"Erik, you said, 'I love you.' Are you trying to access Conversational Interactions?"
"Erik, can I assist you with something else?"
"Goodbye, Erik!"
"I think that I need to lie down." Raoul fell back onto the squeaky bed in the hotel room, arms stretched out at his sides. "Wow."
"You and me both," she murmured, sitting down with a sigh on the twin bed next to his.
They had spent most of the day making sure their paperwork was in order while trying to leave behind as few traces as possible. Christine had entered the country as Megan Giry but didn't want to cause any more problems for Meg in case she ever tried to travel in the future. At the same time, it seemed too dangerous to return to her real name as long as they were this close to the border. Raoul had asked the officials if she could have a name change. Apparently, Phillip had manipulated their situation enough for it to go through because she was now listed as Anna Marshall. Everyone had been nice enough throughout the process, although they did regard the couple with curious glances. At least they believed Raoul to be behind the strange circumstances—a political fugitive.
"What will my name change look like in the computers?" she asked an older, stern-looking woman who was going through their file one last time. She seemed to have some authority.
"What do you mean?"
"Will it show that I came in as Meg and then got a name change? Won't that look strange?"
"Well, we'll have some record that it happened. For security purposes."
"Could you not tie the names together? Or put it all in a paper file? At least for a little while?"
The woman stared over her thick glasses. "Not without getting into trouble. If you're worried about someone seeing it, don't be. This is a highly secure system."
"Can the computer talk to you?" Christine asked, rising out of the chair slightly. "Can it interact with you and find anything? Can it see everything?"
"N-no." The woman now looked at Christine as though she were a little crazy.
"Then it's not as good as his."
"His?"
"What she means," said Raoul with a nervous sideways glance, "is that nothing is really secure these days, right? Supposedly secure systems are always getting hacked."
The woman sighed. "All right. I'll try to keep things discreet." She looked between them. "What did you people do? Try to kill…." She stared longer at Raoul. "Oh. You tried to stop that son of a bitch who wants to take away my right to vote. Yes. Yes, I'll help you."
"Looks like we're good to go, Anna," said Raoul, sounding slightly amused as they walked out.
She softly laughed. "I hope I don't have to use it forever. I still feel like a Christine."
"You are definitely a Christine."
They had permission to move freely around the country. Raoul could use his driver's license for identification until they decided whether they wanted to be permanent residents. Phillip had given him a large sum of cash, and so they completed a quick currency exchange. The next difficult part would be making sure they didn't leave a trail of transactions behind them. At twenty-one, Raoul was barely old enough to rent a car at most businesses in Canada but certainly not without using a credit card. She could soon hear him arguing with someone at the car rental company.
"How do I know you're not going to steal it, kid?"
"I'll give you a ton of cash up front. It's just for several weeks." Raoul's voice was exhausted.
"You going to give me the value of the whole car?"
"I might as well buy a car if I do that."
"Might as well. You're not renting one here without at least a debit card or some way to track you. I wasn't born yesterday."
Raoul returned with a frustrated expression.
"Maybe someone at those immigration offices could help," she softly suggested, feeling increasingly useless in this situation.
"They said they would help us get around the capital if we needed it. But if we want to leave the city, we might have to take a bus or train farther west or north. If we want to stay in this country, we could buy a car...register it here...slowly start making this place home. But I don't know. I haven't thought about it. Do you want to stay here?" Raoul looked at her.
"I still don't feel entirely safe here. I feel nervous."
He nodded. "Yeah. I know what you mean. Maybe Phil can get us to Europe for awhile."
"That would be good." She paused and looked down. "Thank you for asking."
"For asking what?"
"Whether I want to stay here. No one ever really asks me where I want to be anymore. So thank you."
"You're welcome, Chris." He sounded slightly confused, but she didn't expect him to completely understand.
Raoul looked completely wiped out, and Christine knew he needed to sleep before they went anywhere else. They decided to take a taxi to a hotel, handing over a substantial upfront cash deposit to avoid using a credit card. The agent at the front desk made a copy of his ID. "We can't hide away forever," she murmured as they headed toward their room. "Just from today, that's a horrible way to live, isn't it? I never realized the world was so complicated."
"Yeah. We'll think about it. It'll be okay." Poor Raoul fell onto the bed and was asleep within minutes.
What were they going to do? It'd happened so fast that the farthest she'd gotten in planning was escaping. That had seemed so insurmountable that she didn't dream further. And now that they were actually there….
She hadn't eating anything since lunch in Erik's home the previous day. A ham sandwich and some grapes. Her stomach was now in pain and growling at her; surely leaving the room for a moment wouldn't put her in danger. Was she going to be a frightened mess forever? Taking the key card, she crept down the hall and to the vending machines, always keeping an eye on her surroundings. I am actually standing in a motel in Ottawa and getting potato chips from a vending machine. A short, strange laugh escaped her lips. She opened the noisy bag and munched on one, but paranoia kept her from enjoying the moment for very long. She heard the pattering of footsteps and nearly ducked behind the ice machine.
Two little boys ran past her in colorful swimming trunks, and a middle-aged woman was chasing after them. "Hey! You two stop running, or you're not going to the pool! I mean it!" They slowed down to a walk, still laughing.
The door near her suddenly opened, and Christine again nearly ran away. This time, it was only a slender girl, probably around her age, talking on a cell phone. Her brown hair was highlighted, thick, and layered. Her nails were bright pink. "So I was telling him it's totally disrespectful. Right? I know! And he was all, 'We're just online friends.' Oh, I know. I know. I am so tired of that. He can kiss my you-know-what."
Christine found her momentarily fascinating. All of it was enthralling, really. Sort of like when Raoul had taken her out of the Community for the first time. Except this place was happier and more alive. This was the world she'd known from childhood.
A heavier man was whistling down the hallways, and she uncomfortably recognized the tune. "L'amour est un oiseau rebelle" from Carmen. Erik had a recording of the entire opera. He stopped whistling in the middle of it to fish for his card, and Christine absentmindedly hummed the rest.
Someone tapped her shoulder. She jumped into the air and whirled around, nearly ready to sink to her knees and beg for mercy.
The girl who'd been on the phone was standing there. Now she was leaning back with her palms facing outward. "Woah. Didn't mean to freak you out." Christine stared at her, heart pounding. "Um, sweety." She leaned in and whispered, "I just thought you should know. Your real hair is poking out from beneath that thing. But you have a really pretty natural color. So why are you wearing that? Unless you're like sick, in which case I just totally put my foot in my mouth."
Christine felt her face turn red. "No, I'm not sick."
"That's good." There was an awkward moment. "Well, you have a great day." She flounced off down the hall, hips moving from side to side with each step. And Christine stared after her with envy for a long moment-wishing she could be that confident and weightless.
In the safety of the room, she ripped off the stupid wig. More carefully, she removed the glasses. There was Christine again in the mirror. Frightened Christine. With a sigh, she went to the other bed and tried to sleep, fatigue and paranoia in a constant battle over her mind and body. Fatigue finally won. The creaking bed awoke her sometime later.
"Hey. You're blonde again!" Raoul was propped up on his arms and looking at her.
"The wig wasn't working out too well," she said with a yawn, happy to have him to talk to again. It helped keep her mind away from dark and depressing thoughts.
"I think we'll be okay. But if you're that concerned, we can dye it. It's up to you."
"I'll think about it. But I don't think dyed hair will stop whatever is going to happen from happening."
"That's because nothing is going to happen." Raoul also yawned loudly and looked at the clock. "Wow. Guess I needed that."
"You were up all night for some reason," she joked.
"Oh, yeah." He laughed; he was very cute when he smiled. "Well, I guess we'd better have dinner and figure out a more long-term plan." Raoul grabbed the nearly full potato chip bag off the dresser and took a couple of chips.
"Yeah." She had started to feel safe in that room and almost didn't want to leave it. But surely they had to be okay for at least a little while, right? They were in an entirely different country! Raoul convinced her to go to a Japanese restaurant right beside the hotel. Christine walked close to his side and held his hand, keeping herself half-hidden by his shoulder. She liked the dark interior of the restaurant, and they were obscured from the doors and front windows by an aquarium with colorful fish. A fountain bubbled nearby.
"K. Give it a try. This is good stuff once you get used to it."
"Who eats raw fish?"
"The taste is covered up by other stuff; you won't even notice the fish. Like that's going to taste like avocado."
"All right." A pause. A mouthful. "Raoul, I noticed the fish! Ah! I need a drink of something."
He quickly pushed her soda toward her, chuckling. "It takes a few times to get used to sushi."
"I'm getting some teriyaki chicken. That's good, right?"
"Yeah. You'll like that, I think." He took out a pen and yellow notepad. "All right. So we need to get us both some clothes and basic things."
"A toothbrush would be nice," she agreed.
"Cash should cover it. I also need to call my brother."
"Right. To let him know you're okay." She couldn't deny him the call, and yet it was the most dangerous part of his plans. "Don't say anything else. Anything about me or the Community. Please. We're so close."
"Sure. I can also wait a little while."
She hesitated. "Maybe you should make a quick call from here right before we leave."
"Yeah. I think we should head farther west. We'll lay low. And Phil can eventually help us leave the continent. I have relatives in England. That's a safer bet, right?"
"I think so." What else could they do besides create more distance?
"Maybe he'll just let us go," Raoul murmured with a tired half-smile. "You think? We're making it pretty difficult."
The question and acknowledgement of Erik made her fidget. "I don't know. I can't see him giving up very easily. He loved me. A lot." That was probably putting it lightly.
"I wouldn't call that love, Chri-Anna. More like, I don't even know. Kidnapping?" He paused. "I still have some questions about what happened…."
She rubbed her head, more uncomfortable by the second. "Let's not talk about it right now. Not here. Please. Just give me some time to feel okay again."
"Sorry." Raoul hesitated and then quickly changed the subject. "Now you should try this one."
"What's in it?" She eyed the roll suspiciously.
"Octopus." He grinned. She threw a straw wrapper at him, but it landed in the middle of the table. They both laughed, the tension melting away into nervous optimism.
That night, the sound of him softly snoring from the twin bed was comforting enough to put her to sleep. The gentle patter of the shower greeted her ears early in the morning. Raoul came out dressed and brushing his teeth. And he said, "Morning, Chris. Figured we'd get moving. Oh—careful with the shower. If you don't turn the knob all the way, the water stays freezing."
"Thanks." As she stretched out her arms and prepared to confront another day, Christine noticed her empty left hand.
They'd survived a night.
And they'd survived her entire wedding day.
Cameron Lourdes had been ready to proceed. While he had a strong dislike for the bride, he had at least thought the wedding would put some stability into the situation. Maybe Erik would be able to control her more. Obedience was part of the vows after all. So, true to his word, Cameron waited for them at the little chapel attached to his main compound.
Flowers were set out along the front—lavender and pink roses along with white hydrangeas and lilies. The room was filled with a soft, sweet scent. A small, round cake with a red rose was set up in one corner. A golden harp sat in another, for decoration only.
Leather book in hand, he waited.
And waited.
And waited.
First, he contacted the Robinsons. In a sad and confused voice, Mrs. Robinson told him that Christine had never come by for her dress. No one had seen her that day.
At first, he was angry. He called the various numbers that he had for Erik, but no one answered. Cameron left a scathing message. "Do you know how much time I've wasted? Is this your idea of a joke?"
When he never received a reply, Cameron grew more nervous than irate. Had he gone too far in his criticism of Christine? He still needed Erik, especially in these next two months. Throwing his sinful pride aside, Cameron left a more cordial message. "Regarding Christine, our conversation was too heated. I was irritated. Busy and under pressure, as you know. I'm sure we can work this out. Please contact me. Immediately. Please."
But no one ever responded. An unpleasant feeling settled over him. What was happening? He had thought the marriage would thrill Erik. In fact, it was the only event that brought a touch of light to those cold, calculating eyes. But the day ended, and the sun set.
The nanny was ill with some sort of virus, and so he'd been watching over Abby for the past couple of days. She had a fake plastic child's kitchen to play in, and that kept her busy and out of trouble. That night, she slept in a bedroom down the hall from his, clutching onto a stuffed brown bear. He'd been trying to rid her of the plush toy, thinking it juvenile, but didn't feel like dealing with her tears that night.
Cameron had settled into his bed, head comfortably situated on the goose feather pillow, and tried to forget the concern that had plagued him all evening. Suddenly, he felt a chill in the air. Before he could dwell on it, the sound of pattering footsteps approached his room. "Poppy!"
He sat up. "What is it, Abby?" His first thought was that she might be sick. Despite her healthy appearance, she was not always well. Cameron blamed her origins, a so-called designer child. God created imperfections in the human body that kept it alive. Man would pay for destroying them.
"Poppy, there's a ghost!"
He laughed and shook his head. "You silly girl. There's no ghosts. Did you say your prayers?"
"Yes."
"Then that will keep away all the demons."
"But I did say them, and there's still a ghost!"
"There aren't ghosts. Let's go back to bed." He led her to her room and pulled back the covers.
Face still scrunched up with worry, she slowly climbed inside them. "I'm scared…."
"There's no need to be. The Lord will keep all the bad things away because you're a very good girl." She nodded but didn't appear convinced. "Goodnight, Abby."
"Goodnight, Poppy."
He frowned as he returned to his room and hoped no one in the Community was spreading unholy ghost stories. He'd have to give a speech regarding pure conversations, especially around young minds. With a sigh, Cameron settled back into his bed. He closed his eyes.
"Eeeaaaaah!"
A child's scream ripped through the hallways. Cameron jumped out of bed, nearly tripping as he became wound up in the sheets. As he reached her closed door, the screaming stopped.
But then he heard singing. A lullaby in a foreign language. Maybe French? The sound was so beautiful that Cameron felt the notes creeping into his mind, making him want to fall asleep right there in the hallway. He shook his head to clear the cobwebs. With a nervous swallow, he threw open the door.
The sight nearly gave him a heart attack.
"Erik, what the hell are you doing with my granddaughter?" He turned on the nearest light, but the room was still dim. Yellow eyes glowed.
Erik stared at him but continued to sing, cradling her unconscious form, one arm supporting her back while her legs dangled over the other bony appendage.
"Give me Abby," Cameron whispered, his heart pounding.
The singing didn't stop.
"Give me Abby!"
The singing finally ceased.
A pause.
A whisper. "Children…like to play games, don't they, Cameron?"
Cameron felt a shiver overtake his entire body. A cold perspiration formed on his brow. Still, he managed to threaten, "Give me my granddaughter. Or I will call every single guard into this room."
Erik's head tilted to the left side. "That would be a senseless way to destroy your security team. The cleanup would be horrendous."
"You couldn't take them all on!"
"I rather think I could. In fact, do call them here. I think I might enjoy it, Mr. Lourdes. One needs a thrill every now and then."
Threats were getting him nowhere. And the fact that even more disturbing statements were coming from the masked man holding his granddaughter-this was not good. Panicking inside, Cameron softened his voice and tried reason. "Erik, give me my granddaughter. Please. What in the world are you doing with her?"
Erik shrugged. "I was merely putting her back to sleep. She said she saw a ghost; you did not believe her. You really should have." He sighed and then continued in a strange, sad tone. "Children—they like to play, don't they, Mr. Lourdes? Your granddaughter? She likes to play. Games of chase. And hide-and-seek. And make-believe." He paused. "My childhood was odd, so I did not play many games. Never with other children. So I suppose I did not understand the clever little games that boys and girls play when they have too much time on their hands."
Erik finally held out the little girl. Cameron grabbed her into his arms, relaxing slightly as he saw that she was breathing and uninjured—only in a deep sleep probably brought about by Erik's unholy voice. Or maybe she had fainted from fright. "Erik, I am going to put Abby back to bed. And then we will speak outside. Do you understand?"
"No need for a long, dull meeting, Mr. Lourdes. I have only come here to tell you that my wedding has been postponed."
"I noticed. But we'll have that discussion in a moment." Daring to turn his back on the masked shadow, Cameron placed Abby into bed and pulled the covers over her, checking once more to make sure her breathing was steady. "Now we will leave this room and talk." To his relief, Erik followed him into the empty hall, staring forward, eyes still strange and intense. Cameron was afraid for his safety, but he kept his voice steady. "I don't know what you're trying to achieve with this type of visitation. I'm not even going to ask! But, yes, I would like to know why you and that girl weren't at your own wedding. Do you know how much time I wasted?"
"Oh, yes. A great deal of time was wasted. Especially because of the ring. But there are no beautiful watery corpses. Only wasted time."
"What? You know I hate this creepy vagueness."
"I hate things as well. Like spoiled little boys who think they are entitled to other people's belongings." A pause. "I hope he enjoys the last weeks of his little life. The idiot has left himself so ridiculously vulnerable."
"Excuse me?" Cameron shook his head, beginning to feel consumed by Erik's fog of insanity. "What are you talking about? Why weren't you at your wedding? Is this some sort of ungodly joke?"
"A joke? I suppose it was. A game. A joke. All the same, really." Erik flexed his fingers as though trying to grab something that was not there
Something was very, very wrong. And he suddenly wondered…."Erik, that girl is still alive, isn't she?" Not that it wouldn't have cleared up some problems if Ms. Daae were dead. But it would still mean that Cameron was dealing with a very imbalanced individual. His thoughts briefly went back to Abby. Was he going to have to surround her room with bodyguards? Would that even work?
But Erik replied, "She is quite alive."
"I'd like to see her then," said Cameron. "Bring her here now, and I'll marry you right here. At this very hour. I don't like this, Erik. You're acting strangely. You're scaring me, to be honest. I feel as though the Devil himself has come into this home."
"Oh, I will bring her, Cameron. I will. For our wedding. Very soon." His movements were twitchy and off-balance. "But Erik does not play long games of chase. Let her play her games for a bit. Let her. I will be very busy this month. I would have to leave my new bride locked in her room for days at a time, and she might go mad with no company. She very well might hurt herself. There are ways to be sure she doesn't, but it all becomes far too complicated. So it must be the right time, so that I am always with her. While she cries because her game has ended and her boy is gone. For weeks…months…years until she understands where her destiny lies. You will grant me that time after I give you your country. Time to help her understand that no one else can give her what I can."
Suddenly, Cameron began to understand. He clutched the side of the wall for support. "Did she run away?" He received no answer. "Is that what you're saying? She ran away?"
"Children like to play," was all Erik said. "But I must go now, Mr. Lourdes. There is your new country to attend to. We are adults, and we do not play games. We only make the rules, no?" He laughed at this, and it was a horrible sound. "I will meet with you soon to show you how it will all play out. I think you will be very pleased. "
"Erik, where is that girl? Do you know how much damage she could do if she-"
"Children can do nothing. I have made certain of that. And, by the time I am finished, no one will care. They will be too busy trying to save themselves. I will see you in several days with the final plans. Be ready."
Erik disappeared. Swallowing sickly, Cameron collapsed to the floor tiles. He remembered that Raoul Chagny was supposed to leave the country soon per the bargain. And wondered if the girl was now with him.
She had enough information to be dangerous, knew the truth about the Spirit. Who knew what else Erik had told her? And now she was possibly with the younger Chagny boy? No matter what Erik thought in his increasingly unstable mind, two children could certainly destroy everything. With his head buried in his hands, Cameron considered his options and their consequences for a very long time. The girl was bringing Erik so terribly close to the edge.
As a heavy feeling settled inside his chest, he began to pray. "Forgive me now for what must be done. I see no other way to save Your country…."