Disclaimer: I don't own "Angels Arise".
Who's There?!
"Hmm. Charming place," commented Rayne dryly. "I must get the name of the decorator. This place has really gone to seed since I was here last. Ah, I remember how the theatre was then, how beautiful it was, and it shall be again. It had better." She ran her hand lovingly over the dust-covered velvet seats, those that were still in one piece at least, as she walked towards the stage. She climbed up on it and walked to the centre, facing the audience. "What should I sing, what do you think?" she asked, addressing her dogs, who had flopped down in front of the orchestra pit. "Hmm. I suppose I should sing "Think of Me" or something else from "Phantom", but I just don't feel it. What else, ah...oh!" she said suddenly, smiling as she hit upon an idea. Clearing her throat, she began to sing:
"Angels arise, as night must fall,
And radiant eye bear down on us all
If the Powers That Be be beyond our call, then
Angels arise, as the night must surely fall
And for ev'ry pit of darkness there's a light so pure divine
And I ask You to protect me from those gasps and shudders and those shivers down my spine
Angels arise, as night must fall
And all-knowing eyes stare down on us all
If the Powers That Be be beyond our call, then
Angels arise, as the night must surely fall!
There are things that must magic
There's no explaining why or how
And there's ev'ry sign that Once-Upon-A-Time is starting here and now
There's ev'ry sign that Once-Upon-A-Time is starting right here and now."
She ended her song, catching her breath. For all her rough-and-tumble exterior and deep speaking voice, she loved to sing and had a sweet and rather high voice. However, "Angels Arise" was really out of her range, and she knew it perfectly well, but she still liked singing it. She just needed to catch her breath. Had she not been so breathless and disoriented, she might have sensed the presence of another in the theatre, not far from her.
The figure stirred in his sleep. Something was disturbing him, but it was a most pleasant disturbance. Probably a dream. But no, his eyes were opening and he could still hear it. Someone singing, high above him.
"What, am I dead finally?" he asked himself, rising slowly and shaking his head. No, he couldn't be. The sound was too pure, too near. "Ah. It's another one. Well, she'll fare no better than the others, I'm sure. Why can't these stupid kids just leave me alone? Never mind, better just deal with this one first." So saying, he reached for his cloak and mask and made for the stage.
"Wow, I have always wanted to do that," said Rayne, now sitting on the edge of the stage eating one of the sandwiches she had found in the pack she had been given. "Well, technically I've wanted to play Christine since I was in fifth grade, but does it really matter since I'm talking to myself?" Of course, there was no answer. She finished her sandwich and rose. "I've always wanted to take a closer look at this stage. Now I have the chance." So saying, she walked all around the stage, studying it carefully, trying to if it truly was one giant trapdoor divided into smaller segments like she had heard. She thought she saw a hairline crack in the floor and bent down to see. As she straightened, however, the trapdoor suddenly fell open beneath her, causing her to plummet, screaming in surprise, to a pile of hay-stuffed burlap sacks under the stage.
"Ow!" she cried. "Son of a bitch! What the hell just happened?!" Cursing, she picked herself up, brushed herself off, and looked for a way out. It was difficult, as she could hardly see her hand in front of her. She had good night-vision, though, so she simply had to wait for her eyes to adjust. Once they had, she looked around for some way out. By and by she spied a ladder. In reaching for it, however, she sliced her palm open on a sharp piece of metal sticking out from the wall.
"YOW!" she screeched, clutching her injured and bloody hand. Cursing again, she looked around for something to bind it with. She soon saw a white handkerchief lying on one of the steps of the ladder, and she took it quickly and tied it tightly around her hand, using her teeth to hold it when she needed two hands. That done, she returned to the ladder. This she opened up beneath the trapdoor and climbed out. Her dogs were on the stage looking down into the trapdoor when she came out, and they pounced on her and began immediately licking her face as soon as she had climbed all the way out. She started laughing uncontrollably, and had to push them away to catch her breath.
"It's OK boys, I'm all right," she said soothingly, "I'm not hurt." The huge Shepherds didn't look entirely convinced, but then, what does a convinced dog look like? Her black Shepherd nudged her bloody hand, whining a little. Rayne looked down at it. "It'll be all right," she said. "As long as I keep it bound with this handkerchief..." her voice trailed off as she realized that the handkerchief in question had not been on the ladder when she first saw it. But then, how had it gotten there?
"Well, it's always possible that I overlooked it," she said, shrugging it off. "No, don't lick it boy. It's not good for you." She gently pushed her white dog's nose away from her hand, for he had indeed been trying to lick it and make it better. "Well, I'm tired. Where's a good place to sleep in here?" She looked around and noticed, though not for the first time, that the boat from "The Phantom of the Opera" was resting on the stage between the centre and the back wall. She smiled and went over to it. As she had thought, there was only one seat in it. The rest was padded, so it could "transform" into a bed after "Music of the Night". She slipped off her cloak and draped it over the end of the boat, took the pillow and blankets out of her sack, placed the pillow on the seat, climbed in, laid down, and covered herself with the blankets. "'Night boys," she called to her dogs, who had lain down on either side of the boat. With that, she closed her eyes and drifted off. However, she grew restless soon, for she unconsciously knew that she was being watched.
The dark figure stood over the sleeping Rayne for some time, gazing down on her. It had been a while since he was so close to a young girl like this, and he found himself physically attracted to her.
"Beautiful," he murmured, reaching out to touch her cheek, then quickly drawing back. He didn't want to wake her. But he wanted to touch her, feel her, smell her hair, hold her close...he shook his head to clear it. Hell, he didn't even know who she was and he was thinking this way about her! Still...carefully he reached out and touched her hair very lightly. It was soft and silky, but black dye came away on his fingers.
"I wonder what her natural colour is." Gazing at her, he noticed the sodden red bandage on her hand. "Oh. I see she found that. I didn't mean for her to get hurt. She definitely needs to put medicine on that, or it'll get infected. I wonder..." He had the medicinal supplies needed down below where he had been sleeping before, but should he bring them to her, or her to them? Deciding to fetch them to her, he turned and left. He returned soon, knelt beside the boat, and gingerly unwrapped her hand and took a look at the gash across her palm. He grimaced when he saw it, not from disgust, but from knowing that he caused it in a way. He applied some antibiotic to it and wrapped some gauze around it. That done, he nodded in satisfaction and placed her hand gently on her stomach. As he was pulling away, however, she moaned and twisted around a little. He quickly drew back, but she caught a fleeting glimpse of him as her eyes opened slowly.
"Erik?" she whispered. She pushed herself up, hissed in pain from her hand, and saw the new bandage. "Now I know I'm not alone in here," she breathed in wonder. She looked around. "Hello? Is someone there?" The figure in the shadows bit his lip, trying to keep from moving, from making any noise. But he must have made some sound, because Rayne suddenly snapped around to face him, her eyes wide. "Who's there?!"