"Christine? Christine? Where are you?"

Groaning, she sat up, rubbing her head.

"I'm down here, Meg!" she called, trying to recollect what she had been doing.

"Christine! You look horrible!" Meg cried, taking in Christine's bloodshot eyes and her rumpled clothes, "I thought you said you'd only be a little bit, cleaning up after your mess! What were you doing?"

"I don't know Meg, but I think I need to go home now," Christine admitted shakily.

"Finally you decide to take my advice. Come, come, I'll get you a cab."

"No, I can walk," Christine tried to reassure her, but failed as her legs gave out from under her.

"Nonsense! You are in no condition. Come on Christine, Carlos is waiting for me!"

Feeling incredibly dizzy, Christine allowed herself to lean against Meg's small, but sturdy frame outside where Meg hailed a cab, told the cabbie the address and pressed several twenties into his bewildered palm.

"Make sure that she gets home safely, sir," Meg begged, a pleading look in her eyes.

"Don't worry Miss, I'll make sure she gets back alright," the cabbie reassured her.

Christine buckled her seat belt and rested her head against the cool glass.

"So, Miss, what happened to you?" the cabbie asked, trying to make a polite conversation.

Ugh, Christine thought to herself.

"I was looking for a solo piece for auditions," she responded, trying to clear the yellow spots that constantly swam in her vision.

"Oh really?" the cabbie asked, curious, "So you're one of them singer gals hoping to make it big?"

"Something like that," Christine muttered, hoping the cabbie would take the hint.

"Well, I wish you luck, Miss," the cabbie said, "My name's Sam, mind you that's not my real name, but it's what I've been called all my life."

Like I care? Christine thought bitterly.

"So, what's your name, Miss, if it's not too rude to ask?"

"Christine," she whispered, "Christine Bayre."

Suddenly, the cabbie began to laugh.

Outraged, she sat up, fighting waves of nausea that threatened to overtake her.

"What is so funny about that sir?"

The cab came to a sudden stop and Christine was thrown forward.

"My dear, I never thought it would be this easy."

Turning around, the cabbie smirked, revealing pointy teeth.

"Who are you?" Christine cried as she flung herself back into the seat, hand on the door.

"That doesn't matter right now, dearie, Erik awaits you."

She screamed as his head burst into flames.

"What's the matter? Afraid of a little fire?" he cackled.

She jerked open the door and ran as fast as she could. The cabby's voice echoed loudly in her head, taunting menacing.

"Where am I?" she sobbed as she tripped over several branches in the unfamiliar forest.

"Christine! Don't run!" a faraway cry shouted.

Tears running down her face, she tried to run faster and faster. Soon her vision was blurred from tears, and her legs gave out. She fell, gasping for breath.

"So we meet again, my dear."

Christine stopped weeping, frozen with fear.

"I knew that I would find you again, Christine."

Leaves crunched as her stalker walked slowly around her.

"Now it is time for you to come back."

"NO!" She screamed, trying to run, but he had grabbed her arms and stuffed a strongly scented cloth over her nose.

"I'm sorry, my dear, but I have to do this," he said softly, patting her hair as black dots swam in her vision.

"No," she whispered in protest before passing out.

When she came to, the first thing to come into focus was a dark shape looming over her.

"What?" she muttered, trying to sit up.

"Now, now, dear, you need to wait until the effects of the drug wear off," a chiding voice scolded her as two strong hands pushed her effortlessly back down.

"Where am I? Meg?" she called feebly, trying to remember what was happening before she had passed out.

"You are in my home, Christine, Meg is elsewhere."

Now a cool, moist cloth was placed on her forehead.

"What are you going to do to me?" she asked weakly, trying to see who placed the cloth on her forehead.

"I'm not going to do anything to you, my dear. Except help you."

The voice sounded strangely familiar, but where had she heard that voice?

"Christine, do you have any idea of how long I've waited for you to come back?"

The cloth was taken off, and a man with strikingly handsome features appeared. His voice was familiar, but the face was not.

"Oh, my head," Christine muttered, holding her hand over her eyes.

"The pain will go away momentarily. Come, give me your hand. I have something I want to show you."

Christine's memory suddenly was jogged, and she flinched.

"Where is the cabbie who knocked me out?" she demanded harshly, "Why have you kidnapped me?"

The man looked puzzled, almost hurt.

"Don't you remember me? I'm the manager at the local theatre, the one who told you about the auditions!"

Christine gasped, as the realization hit.

"Oh, Monsieur, I'm so sorry, I didn't recognize you! I only met you that one time! Please don't let this affect my audition!"

"Christine, Christine!" he cried in concern, patting her arm consolingly, "I understand! You have been through a lot. I found you out in the woods, outside my humble home."

Christine became confused, several images were swimming in her vision: a masked man, a bloody carcass, a headless diva, a handsome man, blood, more blood, endless screaming, a scared face, a deformed, heavily stitched face!

She fell over, clutching her forehead as the images popped endlessly through her head.

"What's wrong Christine? What's wrong!"

Suddenly, she began to sing, eerily,

Shadows, you quake, you wake, you need me

The manager stopped, taken aback,

"So you do remember."

She continued to sing eerily, and he joined in. Her mind was becoming more and more focused, memory kicking in, and she realized who the manager really was.

"Erik Barye, you bastard,"

She stepped away, holding her arms across her chest as Erik's expression became masked with anger.

"Yes, Christine! I have come back for you! Do you realize the hell I've been through? Just to find you! Come, come Christine, don't deny me!"

A plan began to form in her mind, maybe, just maybe.

"I was a fool, Erik, forgive me for the pain that I've caused you," she murmured in a silky voice, and began to force her self to step towards him.

His face was astonished,

"You mean it? You'll be mine now?"

She was inches from him now. She ran a finger down his chest tantalizingly, and he shivered.

"I mean it."

The she kissed him. At first he was stiff and unresponsive, the gradually he joined in. It took all of her resolve not to throw up at the sensation. Trying to forget that he was supposed to be dead, she ran her hands and 'caressed' his head. Finding what she was looking for, she dug her fingers into the fleshy mask and pulled hard.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaghhhh" he screamed, trying to pull away, but it was too late.

What was once a handsome face was now a horrible decaying skull. Gray and red goop oozed out of the holes where the flesh hadn't completely decomposed yet. His eyes were flaming, almost popping out of their hollow sockets.

"You traitor!" he screamed as terrified she ran, dropping the mask.

"You cannot hide!" Erik yelled after her.

She had no idea where she was running, but her instincts told her to go down, down, deep down where his music would be. The house was indeed more than humble, gold carpet, gold door handles, but Christine barely paused to take in all this as she ran for her life down the cold steps to his lair, where, she somehow knew, would be.

"Stop!" he demanded.

Ignoring him, she tore through the dark passage, heading straight towards the dim light. Finally she reached the decaying organ, where on top laid a manuscript.

"Don't Christine!" Erik cried out in horror as she picked it up.

With a terrified scream, she ripped the manuscript in half.

Erik fell to the ground, clutching his heart in agony.

"Please! Christine, spare me this pain!" he wailed, as his body began to disingrate.

She continued to rip the manuscript up, despite his howls, and the haunting melody that streamed out as she ripped.

"Christine!" Erik cried out for the last time, before his body burst into flames and evaporated.

She slumped down, tears of exhaustion running down her face.

"Finally," she thought to herself, "My soul can rest in peace, as his."

Lying down, she closed her eyes, and her soul goes into heaven, amidst the song of Shadows, the work of the devil trying to get her back, trying one last time to claim her soul, but it fails.

The End… or is it?