Chapter 37

Christine's POV

I was typing on my laptop, sitting in my bed and waiting for mom to yell that dinner was ready. It was a Saturday afternoon, and I was trying to finish an English assignment early. I was nearly done, only a few sentences left in the conclusion, when there was suddenly a knock on the door.

"Mom," I called. "There's someone at the door."

I heard light steps, my mother's, heading towards the living room door. The knocking continued lightly until she made it to the door. At that point everything went silent for a heartbeat, and then-

Bang!

I jumped in place, nearly falling off the bed. What was that? It happened again and again and all I could do was sit there, horror stricken, calling down in a questioning voice when I heard my mother scream. "Mom? What is it?!"

I heard papa run down the steps as mom ran up, the two colliding before I heard them mumble a few phrases. My mom dialed 911, searching the bathroom and guest room before finding me frozen in place on my bed. She quickly explained the situation to the operator as she pulled me from my bed, "Yes, we don't know who these people are but they are trying to break down the door. I don't know if they are armed or not! What do you think? Christine, move! We have to get somewhere safe! Yes, I'm still here."

My mom ushered me into the bedroom she and papa shared, the only room that had a lock on its door. I heard papa run up the stairs again, huffing, "I've blocked the door as much as possible, all the back windows are locked and aren't big enough for them to crawl through anyway, but that door isn't going to hold much longer."

For the first time in my life I saw fear reflected in my mother's eyes. Both turned to look at me as I hugged my mother, my father joining in the embrace shortly after, jerking away suddenly and running to the adjoining bathroom.

"You have to hide Christine," my mom pleaded. Pulling out the wardrobe from against the wall she handed me the phone with the police still on the line, pushing me under before hugging me and kissing the top of my forehead.

I curled up on my side, looking out the crack between the bottom of the wardrobe and the floor. I tried to conform to the little space as much as my grown body would allow me, refusing to make a sound as mom returned the wardrobe to its original position. The door downstairs fell with a sickening thud the same moment the wardrobe was securely against the wall. My mom fell to the floor, turning her head to the side to speak to me as tears gathered in her eyes. Taking a quick shaky breath, she begged, "Whatever you hear, whatever happens Christine, you must not, under any circumstances, make a sound and give yourself away. I need you to do this for me. Can you promise me?"

"Yes, mom." I quaked, losing all control of my muscles as the fear spread throughout my body, shaking me to my very core.

Putting a finger to her lips she jerked backwards when a voice was heard outside the door calling, "They're in here! This is the only door that's locked!"

As the door was assaulted I heard my father whisper from the bathroom, "Anne, come on. In here."

Mom stared at papa intently for a moment, seeming to take him in, looking extremely nervous now. Unfortunately, my vision was limited to only what was directly in front of me, and papa was out of that line of sight. My mom's eyes flickered to me for an instant only. She seemed to make a decision in that one instant, turning her back to me and facing the door as it splintered before her. One final push, and the door fractured, crashing open as three men swarmed into the room.

Time seemed to stop. The men took in my mother, and my mother stood frozen in place as I imagined she took them in as well. The man in the middle was the only one not wearing a black mask. I imagined him to be the leader by the way he halted the other two upon entering, his hands still suspended in the air. He was not very tall, quite average height for a man, but taller than the other two men with him. He was large, muscular arms that offset a swelled stomach. He probably drank too much, to have a stomach like that. His hair was long for a man as well, but greasy and grimy, clinging to the side of his face and his forehead. His beard was similar, unruly and greasy. Just looking at him made my stomach sink. Everything was as still as could be in the moment I took to study the man, and then time seemed to slowly resume. The leader looked to the man on his left, then to the man on his right… I exhaled the breath I had been holding.

Bang!

I covered my mouth in a silent scream, watching as my mother fell to her knees, her arms clutching her abdomen. She tried in vain for a moment to get out of the line of fire, but the next bullet proved to be the death blow. Her body collapsed mostly out of sight, all but her left arm, which was stained red with blood. Tears threatened to blur my vision, but I held them in check, trying to memorize any details I could that might be helpful for when the police arrive. The man on the phone kept repeating that the police were on their way and asked if I was okay.

My papa revealed himself then, shooting one man in the leg and the other man in the shoulder, but missing the leader. The man who was shot in the leg collapsed, screaming something in a foreign language. It sounded Russian. The man with the injured shoulder used the nearby dresser as a crutch, aiming his gun towards my papa before letting a shot ring out.

Papa dropped the rifle I didn't know he was hiding, falling to the floor on his side. He groaned but held his tongue as he looked up at the men. The Russian man writhing on the floor meant to shoot my papa in the head before the leader stopped him.

"We need one alive," he hissed. "Alexei, go check downstairs for any valuables."

The man with the injured shoulder, Alexei, nodded, before leaving the room. The leader made a strange gesture to the Russian, who made the same gesture back before struggling to his feet, limping around the room as he began to upturn tables, drawers, and even the bed.

The leader crouched down to my papa, who was looking up at him in hatred as his breathing became labored from the pain. The leader smiled, "Hello, Mr. Daae. So sorry for letting ourselves in the way we did, but we're in a bit of a bind. You see, lately America has become such a bore, no fun jobs to do anymore, so the boys and I are heading overseas to visit an old friend. To do that though, we're gonna need some big money, which we don't currently have. Embarrassing, I know. Regardless, I looked into you, and you're one of the richest men in this state. Did you know that?"

My papa spat in the man's face, and I felt a flare of triumph mix with confusion as I thought about the man's remark. I knew my parents and I were well off with papa's music, but we were by no means rich. We lived in a simple house in a modest neighborhood, and I never wanted for anything, but we still just managed to pay the bills and put food on the table.

I heard my papa snicker, breaking me out of my thoughts as the man wiped his face. He smiled back at my papa before standing and kicking him in the stomach. The hand clasped over my mouth was like iron, attempting to silence my reactions as the man reared back and delivered several more blows to my papa's ribs and head. After six or seven hits the man huffed, bending over to rest his palms on his knees before laughing, "I'm out of shape. I used to be able to do stuff like this all day. Since I cut you a break, why don't you cut me one? From one old man to another."

My papa wheezed, "I'm not… telling you… anything! You... might as well… kill me now."

The man grunted, looking lost for a moment as he locked eyes with the Russian. The Russian shook his head, looking over to my papa before shrugging. The leader pulled a gun from behind his back, cocking it before giving my papa a final look. He rubbed the back of his neck, debating before sighing, "Fine. Have it your way."

He aimed the gun at my father but was interrupted when Alexei returned. He was carrying what looked to be a safe, and my laptop! He crowed, "Boss! I found it! I also found some other nice stuff that I left downstairs but check this out."

"What?" The man groaned annoyed. "A laptop. That won't go for much, it's a few years old at least."

"No boss, not the laptop. What's on it." Alexei explained, "It's an English paper, written by a Christine Daae… still in progress. Man's got a daughter here."

The man chuckled, clapping the Russian on the back before shouting, "Good work Alexei, good work. Any signs of the daughter downstairs?"

"None." Alexei answered.

"Well, that won't do," the man smirked. Crouching down to my papa once again, he placed the barrel of the gun at his temple and offered, "You can tell us where she is and I give you my word that we'll let her live, or you can not tell us where she is and we'll kill you, then find her ourselves. If that happens then I give you my word that I'll personally make her death a slow one. You have three seconds to decide."

My father remained silent, staring defiantly at the man as he began to count down. "Okay, Daae. Three… two… one-"

"I'm here!" I shouted. I didn't think about the consequences, only that I couldn't watch this man kill my father. Unfortunately, this seemed to be the wrong thing to do.

The man laughed, "I knew that would get her. Alexei, Gregori, move the wardrobe while I watch Daae!"

I remained motionless, fearful that if I put up a fight or even moved then papa would be shot. Once the wardrobe was moved I allowed myself to be hoisted out of the floor and practically thrown at the leader. He grabbed me by the upper arms and held me in place in front of my papa. We could do nothing but stare at each other for what felt like an eternity, and I had never seen my papa look so sad.

The leader pointed the barrel of the gun to the back of my head and the tears I had been holding back began to flow. My papa made to reach for me, but changed his mind a moment later. His eyes locked with mine, focused intensely before they darted to the side. A moment later he choked, "It's going to be okay Little Lotte."

"The code, Daae." Buquet huffed, "My patience is wearing thin."

My eyes darted to where my papa had previously glanced, spying the discarded rifle. I swallowed hard as my papa nodded, "2…17 left…" my father began. "Then 10, I mean 19."

I felt my throat constrict as I nodded. My paper, it was on how police had developed their codes and what a few of them meant. Papa had found it fascinating, so much so that he and I had learned the code for fun. He had a better grasp on it than I did, but I remembered those numbers. Assault with the intent to the murder, the man to his left, my right. Then, return to station. Was he asking me to…? As the leader released me to focus on the safe he barked, "Alexei, take the brat downstairs."

I turned to see the man on the left was Gregori, his leg was bleeding worse than he was letting on, and he was swaying. Alexei was the strongest next to the leader, his shoulder a mere flesh wound. I pretended to back away and flail as Alexei reached for me, discreetly tucking the rifle into my side. It only had two more shots. I stopped once he fisted a handful of my hair. Putting on a show I whimpered, "Okay, okay, okay I'll stop. Let go! Please!"

Shockingly, he did as I asked, perhaps feeling sorry for me. As he pulled me out of the room I heard Buquet hiss, "The code didn't work!"

My papa replied meekly, "Try it again, the lock can be particular. Make sure to do it slowly… for accuracies sake."

I began to dig my heels into the floor the closer we got to the stairs, until Alexei seemed to have had enough. He gripped my arm, nearly crushing it in his grasp as he twisted it, causing me to react rashly. I bit him, as hard as I could. He howled, rearing back to slap me. The force of the blow had knocked me to the ground but had not dazed me. He lunged to capture me at that point, but I pitched my foot up into his unsuspecting groin. He let out a silent scream and a growl as he crumpled to his knees. Not having time to enjoy my victory I scrambled to my feet, grasping for the rifle that had fallen in the scuffle. I turned, to see blood and murder written in his eyes as he pulled his pistol from his belt and struggled to his feet.

I felt real fear for my life then, my fight of flight instinct taking over, causing my subconscious to bury the next handful of minutes deep down where I normally could never find them. They would only be exhumed during dark moments in the future where my mind was powerless to stop it.

I gripped the rifle like a baseball bat, the butt of the gun poised and ready to make contact as I swung. When I swung I had not aimed nor thought about how much effort I was putting into my swing. I just wanted this man away from me.

CRACK

The sound was as unexpected as the action was unplanned. Time slowed to half seconds, my eyes opening as the pistol fell from Alexei's hand. His eyes- or eye, since I could only see the one, was glazed over and his neck was twisted at a sickeningly unnatural angle. My mouth opened in horror as his body collapsed and began to roll itself down the stairs. I turned away, the echoing thumps piercing my eardrums like needles, bile rising to the back of my throat.

I had no time to recover, hearing a stuttered rhythm of footsteps make their way towards me. It was Gregori, I knew. Again, running on a sort of automatic response system, I picked up Alexei's discarded pistol, stowing it in my pocket as I aimed the rifle. Gregori turned the corner and I fired. He collapsed, a direct hit to the chest.

Still, I fired the remaining shot from the rifle into his skull. I had seen too many movies, and I couldn't afford any surprises. Dropping the rifle, I unclicked the safety on the pistol and ran on silent feet back towards my papa and the leader. The door was wide open, and I could see my papa, still crumpled on the floor, but the leader was nowhere to be seen. The window to the fire-escape was open, and I assumed he had fled. Not taking my finger off of the trigger however, I kneeled down next to my papa. He was weak, his face and hands clammy. I looked around us, clarity peeking through the haze in my mind as I did, taking in my mother's body sprawled across the crimson stained hardwood. It would never be clean again, permanently stained with my parents' blood.

My papa's hand touched mine, returning my attention to him. I held his hand tightly in mine, looking into his tired eyes. He clutched my hand fiercely, nodding his head as he choked, "You're safe. Thank God, thank God...you're safe. The code…it's…it's your birthday. Take the money… Christine… finish school… love… live your life… and be happy."

I smiled, laughing as I heard sirens blaring closer, "You'll be alright papa, the police will be here soon with an ambulance and we'll take you to the hospital. You're going to be-"

I was unable to finish, my father snatching the gun from my hand and throwing me to the side. I heard two shots fired from the gun and saw nothing but the bloom of red on my father's back as he threw himself in front of me. I shrieked then, my father collapsing next to me. I looked up just in time to see the leader biting back the pain of his wound. It was his upper right thigh. He stared at me in pure hatred, aiming his gun at me. I didn't flinch, practically daring him to fire as the sirens became deafening. He bared his teeth in a snarl, limping towards the window. He hunched, putting his legs out first so he could turn to warn me, "Forget my face, or I'll come back for you and whoever else you care about. I took your parents, I can take everyone else from you as well."

I nodded, my mouth suddenly dry as the tears began to flow once again down my cheeks. His image blurred, before finally disappearing as I utterly collapsed into myself. My mother… my papa… they were both… gone.

…

"I never told the police of a third man," I gasped. "Even though they found a third set of prints. When questioned I also denied ever firing one of the guns, fearing that perhaps in an even worse twist of fate that I would go to prison for the crime. The truth of the matter is that I did fire the gun, I did kill those two intruders, and there was a third man in the company. And, no matter how hard I tried, I could never forget his face. He haunted my nightmares nearly every night for the past six years."

"Well," Buquet preened. "That is quite flattering, to know that I've been on your mind and in your thoughts for all of these years. Almost makes it all worth it."

I couldn't look at Anya, too afraid to see her eyes and what judgement she might hold there. Instead, I stared hopefully at Erik. His eyes were no longer distressed, and they held no judgement or resentment. Instead, there was a deep understanding and adoration reflected in his depths. Once Buquet spoke however, all the emotions I expected to see were there, sharp and dagger-like as he spat, "You bastard!"

Buquet motioned for Gleb to pull the rope again, and I was forced on my tiptoes in order to keep breathing. Buquet turned to Erik then, "You were saying?"

Erik shook in place, his breath coming out in hissed pants as he clenched and unclenched his hands. He looked trapped, until an idea seemed to occur to him. He locked eyes with me and I saw his demeanor change all at once. He was composed again, nearly smiling as he stated, "10-67."

I felt my eyes widen, I hadn't made anyone privy to the fact that the code my father had told Buquet was actually police code. Of course, Erik being brilliant, must have figured it out and found the leverage he needed to turn the tides on Buquet. Person calling for help. It was time.

Buquet and Gleb shared a look before he demanded, "What are you on about, Phantom? Have you finally lost the rest of your sanity?"

"You're one to talk about losing their sanity." Erik goaded, "Considering you drowned all your brain cells in cheap booze."

"You cocky demon! I'll show you Hell now." Buquet spat as he advanced on Erik.

His distraction worked, drawing everyone's attention as my hands slipped behind my back and grasped the pistol from my jeans. I clicked the safety off before firing immediately at Gleb. I couldn't be bothered to care that I had just added another body to my count, as the rope was released and both of my feet landed firmly on the ground I could only relish in my first gasp of fresh air.

My relief was brief as Buquet turned towards me, his arm raising to shoot before Erik leapt into action. Moving as quickly as a shadow, a rope was around Buquet's neck, Erik twisting and using the excess to bind Buquet's hands behind his back as well. A silver key was then flung towards me, seeming to appear from thin air as Erik ordered, "Get Anya out of here."

I fell to my knees, scrambling to unlock Anya's restraints. I heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Locking eyes with Anya I whispered, "Close your eyes sweetheart."

She nodded, squeezing her eyes shut as I fired non-lethal shots at the men coming down the stairs. A shot to the thigh and the side. They both tumbled the rest of the way down, practically landing at our feet. I used the cuffs that were around Anya's wrists to lock the men to the pippe now, making sure they didn't have any more weapons.

I turned to Anya, now that she was free she shot into my arms as she sobbed, "Christine, I'm so sorry."

I hugged her close to me, stroking her auburn hair and promising her that she did nothing wrong. I swore that she would be home soon and nothing like this would ever happen again. In my urge to calm and comfort her I was shocked when she wrestled herself from my grip and screamed, "Uncle Erik, stop!"

I jerked around, following Anya's form as she ran towards Erik and a pale Buquet. My breath left me in a rush as I realized that Erik meant to kill him. I reached for Anya but she evaded my grasp, screaming, "You're better than this! Stop! You need to stop!"

Erik snarled, yanking harder as he boomed, "No! I know that you are too young to understand this Anya, but this man has to die. He has committed too much evil and is far too dangerous to be left alive."

"I understand Uncle Erik." Anya begged, "Let him go, he deserves to pay for what he's done."

"He is paying for it," Erik hissed. He seemed to loosen his hold, allowing Buquet to catch his breath, only to choke off his air supply once again. "He's paying for hurting Christine, he's paying for destroying my life, and he's paying for taking your home away from you!"

"My home is here now, Uncle Erik." Anya sobbed.

"Stop playing this game Anya," Erik pleaded. "I'm begging you, just let me do this for you."

"I don't want you to do this for me! This is not what I want and it's not what's right. And… and no matter how badly you wish it could, it won't bring mama back!"

Erik's grip remained bow tight around the rope, but he released the pressure enough on Buquet's throat for him to inhale a harsh, panting breath. Erik's amber eyes seemed to soften as they drifted from a shuddering Buquet to Anya's sturdy form. His voice was raspy as he asked, "You know who this man is?"

Anya nodded, "In me you see mama, look at her face in my mine and tell me that this is what she would have wanted."

Erik sighed, "Anya, sometimes a man has to make painful choices. In your mother's name, I won't let this man see another dawn."

"Fine! Do it then!" Anya shouted. "All you are wanting is revenge. Be a better man, Uncle Erik, not this monster!"

"No… no… a man does what's necessary!" Erik reasoned, "Anya-… for you, your mother, Christine, and anyone else whose lives he's ruined… what choice do I have?"

"You have a choice," Anya cried. "Let him rot in prison for the rest of his life, but let him live!"

I saw Erik's resolve begin to crumble as he rasped, "The past keeps coming back to haunt us… I… I can't… I… I want… we have a past to bury, Anya! It starts with him!

Stares into the void…. Anyone still with me here? I literally have no excuse for the absence except the fact I started my new job as a News Station Director back in August and oh my gosh! Stress, stress, stress, and so much worse than college ever was. I am just NOW getting a good grip on it. Anyway, new chapter coming next week… maybe the last one and then an epilogue? So, what did you think of:

The whole flashback?

Christine's truth bombshell?

The police code?

The cliffhanger? (Any thoughts on what Erik will do?)