First off, I apologize to all who were a bit confused in the last chapter. Half of the chapter is in Chris' perspective while the other half is Erik's. I'll replace it with a coded one. Bold being Erik's POV and italics being Chris'. Regular print will be third person all knowing. Thank you for two reviews, which have inspired me to update! In other words more reviews quicker update. Usually. Returning to your normal viewing schedule, Phantom of the Cinema.
It had been fifteen minutes since Chris had made her exit; and Ray was sitting in one of the theatre chairs, his elbow propped on the arm rest, and his chin against his arm. He let out a muffled sigh and stood up, sure that by now Chris had calmed down enough for him to console her. At least, he hoped so.
He stood, and stretched, as though he was a cat, and slunk out of the theatre, to find his 'employee'. He sauntered out of the theatre, and ran a hand through his mop of hair before checking in each individual theatre listening intently for any signs of Chris. His walk was slow and easy as he walked in and out of the gigantic rooms, to the projection rooms, and back down again. It hadn't really taken that long, considering the boy was all ready accustomed to the depths of the cinema.
When he walked out of the projection room of theatre 20, he was all ready bordering on the older side, reminiscent of the movie's golden age. A smile formed on his thin lips, and he casually called out her name.
Suddenly, a different voice echoed back. A voice that was not his own. The ethereal sound floated through the pipes, sending shivers down the youth's spine. "Chris!?" he yelled once more, his tone growing more frantic each moment. An uneasy pit formed in his stomach, and he made a mad dash towards the voice, skidding to a stop once he reached the women's lavatory, where the sound originated.
An uneasy feeling crept through his body as he delicately pressed the shell of his ear against the door to listen better. "Chris…sweetie? Was it something I said? 'Cause if it was I'm sorry!" His tone was still covered with urgency.
The sound of something sliding open made him jump away, stunned. Ray stared at the door, listening as the voice suddenly faded away, as if it had been enveloped in cotton.
He could stand it no longer!
Violating all the social taboos, and going against the little voice in his head, he barged in the room. Checking all of the empty stalls, he finally gave up. Ready to make his leave, he looked back to the mirror, and noticed one of Chris' yellow cleaning glove lying on the floor.
It had been a day since Chris had gone missing, and Ray was at his wit's end. He had taken up the night shift in addition to his usual one to search for her. By morning the two managers had re-entered the building, looking full of cheer and happiness. How it pained Ray to look at them, happy as a couple like that, while he was constantly being turned down by Chris. Finally, he walked up to the managers, to ask if they had seen the young girl.
"No monsieur," replied Andre with a slight frown, his fake accent amplified by a sort of disappointment. "But… we did receive a letter, detailing that Mademoiselle Chris had to leave for an emergency, and that she would be back in a while…"
Ray frowned and bowed his head to stare at his feet. "Might I… see the letter please?" he inquired, avoiding eye contact with his superiors. Firmin nodded and shuffled through his pocket, to pull out an odd looking envelope.
The paper was thick, and when Ray held out his hand to take it, the texture of the envelope was rough, as if it had been weathered over the years. A crimson wax stamp had sealed the envelope, which had been of course broken to read the contents which read:
M. Andre and Firmin
I am sorry to say that I have to take a sick leave, due to my father dieing. I will be out of town, to support my family, and I will not return for a minimum of a week. I also apologize for leaving at such short notice, and I will report back to work as soon as I can.
Christine Laroque
"Mr. Firmin… this is not Chris' handwriting, and Chris wouldn't sign her whole name, she hates it. Not to mention she doesn't write at all like this, her sentences are longer, and conjoined."
Firmin shrugged and slipped a hand around Andre's waist. "Oh well she must have gotten another family member to write it for her."
A morbid look formed around Ray's eyes as he tilted his head up for the first time. "Chris' father is dead. He has been since she was in middle school."
The police were called an hour later after the whole staff had searched the cinema for any signs of Chris. Yet the only thing found was her glove that she had on when she was cleaning theatre eight, and the letter in which handwriting could not be identified, much less fingerprints considering the author of the note had worn gloves.
The police had arrived quickly and used the glove to let the dogs sniff out the young woman's trail. Everything led back to the bathroom and the mirror. The police, and the dogs for that matter were as confused as anyone else. The case had been labeled as a kidnapping, and was sent as an 'Amber Alert' over national television.
The press arrived two hours after the police had, and were pestering the cinema workers for an interview. Ray easily took the role as the grieving boyfriend, and had left innuendos to the press that the two were a serious couple. This was expected by the other workers, considering they were well informed of Ray's affection for the young girl.
Nothing had been accomplished by the end of the day, with the exception of the news crews getting better ratings. And everyone was exhausted.
The day ended with everyone stretched out, in a large circle and conversing. The police were still there, and the news casters had left after eleven, because they of course "didn't give a shit whether or not Chris died.", as Ray had so eloquently put it.
The theatre was closed down, which was of course was bad for business, which didn't add to the fact that many parents would come in complaining about the safety. But the workers didn't care about that in the slightest at the moment.
Andre and Firmin were resting against the counter of the snack bar, and looked even more dejected than any other person in theatre. Conversation between the two, and the group was light, and they added little to the optimism of the group.
The rest of the employees were all teenagers, or college students, who knew Chris for less than three months. A blonde boy, who had moved from California looked shiftily around, and asked where Ray was.
"Oh he's prolly looking for Chris again, he hasn't stopped like at all since she disappeared." responded a younger girl on the other side of the circle.
The all nodded in agreement, and looked around, for any signs of his return.
The Californian spoke up again "What if like…the dude who kidnapped Christine is like… a crazy guy that's going to kill us one by one?"
Suddenly a creaking of the front door made everyone jump, afraid for their lives. They were relieved to see a man in his late twenties standing at the door, before walking over to the group. He was handsome and resembled someone they all knew well.
Firmin spoke up "In case you haven't heard sir, we're closed for the night." A few anxious giggles softly interrupted the conversation. "One of our employees has gone missing. Besides, the police aren't permitting any other people un-related to the case to come near here."
The man nodded and replied with ease "Sorry, but I'm Ray's brother, I need to talk with him."
Firmin sighed and combed back his hair with the palm of his hand. "I apologize sir, but Mr. Rye has run off on his own little investigation, we don't know where he is right now."
The man nodded and began to walk down the hall ways, checking for any sign of his little brother. Finally he arrived at the place so talked about in the news. Theatre eight.
The man entered the theatre, and slowly peeped out from the side to see the crumpled form of his little brother, moaning something incomprehensible. He was heaving out sobs, as if it was the only thing he could do to survive. The man neared, feeling more and more crestfallen as he neared Ray.
He sat down next to him, and looked at the pale and sorry state his brother was in. Ray's hair covered his face, hiding himself from his brother. He could all ready detect signs that Ray hadn't been bathing, and the man noticed the tips of the young man's hair was all ready starting to grease up.
"Ray…c'mon look up" implored the eldest brother.
As if he expected Chris to be right next to him, Ray snapped up, wiping away the tears that had streaked down his face, and had been momentarily blocked by a tiny amount of stubble that had grown. "Payton…?" he choked out, looking at his brother as if he was a ghost. He swung his arms around the elder boy's abdomen and pulled him into a hug. "It's awful…" he sobbed into the depths of his brother's sweater.
The taller boy pulled away for a moment, holding on to Ray's upper arms, and looking him in the eyes, a kind and compassionate look on his face. "You really like this Chris chick don't you…?" Payton asked slowly, watching tears cascade his brother's face as Ray nodded slowly.
"Why are you staying here? Everyone else is in the lobby, and people are getting concerned about you…" He asked gently standing up, and hoping his brother would follow suit.
"Wh-when she com-comes back I'll be here. Just where she left me…" he replied shakily, more tears flowing down his cheeks. "Oh God it's my fault! It- it's mine isn't it? I should ha-have gone after her" he hiccupped, and clutched his sides uneasily. Ray pressed his fingernails into the sides of his t-shirts, in an attempt to calm himself down, but to no avail.
Payton pushed the seat back down and pulled his brother into a hug. It was as if the hover damn had suddenly broke, and once again Ray was sent into oblivion, as he muttered out half spoken sentences. It had taken thirty minutes to calm the boy down again until he could cry no more.
Payton pulled out of the hug and smiled weakly at his brother. "Look Mum and Dad begged me to check up on you, but I think I'm going to be in town a little longer, for your sake okay?"
Ray nodded slowly, and stood up. "She's not going to die" he replied shortly, as if to assure himself that everything and everyone would be all right.
"No she's not" replied Payton, unsure of his brother's precise meaning, Payton stood up once again, and moved with a red-eyed Ray back to the lobby.
A little shorter than the last one, but then again, Ray is a hard character to write for, I much prefer writing from our lovely, and slightly insane Erik. Did you like my interpretation of our young nemesis? I tried to make him as human as possible, so there's pity on all sides.
Moonjava: I hope you are entertained by this 'engaging read' even if it doesn't contain Erik. But alas it is needed. Thanks for the compliment, which by the way is one of the weirdest ones I have ever gotten. 'Acutely not too bad'
Friendorphantom: Thanks for the review; I always love when I get them!