Jazzetry's Author's Note: I'm warning you now that we tried to make Erik a little bit evil, but in that sexy, ultra-desirable way that makes you want to swoon. Hopefully that starts to come across in this chapter...

Christine and the Phantom

Chapter Two: Perilous Flight

"Come on, girl, just a little farther," Christine urged the perspiring mare down the narrow forest path, desperation tainting her voice. The pair had been traveling since sunrise, frantically searching for any sign of Stephan on the road to Lord Tiernay's manor. With the recent nightfall, Christine's distress had steadily escalated.

Belle suddenly snorted and reared where the road broke, dancing away from the shadowy trail. The rider was thrown violently by the unexpected movement, and crashed to the ground.

Righting herself, Christine winced and brushed her skirts off before gathering her cloak tightly around her; the night was unforgivably cold. The chill only accentuated her sinking feeling of incredible foolishness. She had rashly acted that morning, rushing to save her father without thought for her own safety. She had followed the wagon tracks until the light gave out. Now it was dark and Christine was alone in an isolated forest without provisions, without protection, and without any sign of her father's whereabouts.

Christine checked Belle over, noting that the horse would not willingly carry her weight for some time. She glanced around her surroundings, looking for a direction to follow.

The only hope the maid could find was a soft light down the side path. From her vantage, she thought she could see the outline of a building. Perhaps she could find shelter there or at least some news of her father.

)–/–

The duo labored on for half-a-mile down the road. The forest eventually faded, meeting the stone wall of an estate. Christine loosely tied Belle to a branch. Walking a few meters, she came upon a small wooden door. Trying the handle, Christine struggled with the postern before it slowly creaked open.

The brown-haired girl came upon a beautiful orchard. Beyond the orchard a foreboding stone castle rose impressively from the earth. The wind whistled around two tall towers and banged against a long set of windows on the extensive veranda. Christine had reached the back entrance of the strange chateau. The impressive abode appeared deserted, save for the light of a single candle emanating from a narrow window on the top floor.

A single clear note brought Christine to attention. The music wailed in the night, striking a beat of longing within her. It called to her, compelling her to follow the sad tune towards its origin, the castle. She knelt at one of the towers, pressing her ear against the singing stone, searching for the source of the sweet, twisting sound.

Her hands unintentionally pressed upon a false brick. A mechanism clicked into place and moved a portion of the wall, clearing a small entrance in the stone facade. In the shadow of the opening, she saw the spiral of a hidden staircase.

Christine followed the music blindly into the passage way. Something greater than herself was up those stairs, something haunting, thrilling in its raw and exposed nature. The music drowned out the sound of her footsteps and lured her to its source.

As the music grew in intensity, Christine shuddered, pressing her hands against the wall in an effort to steady herself. How she wished to put words to such a melody! She wanted to sing like she had never sung before.

"Help!"

Her father's ragged cry brought Christine to reality. She rushed back down the stairs, escaping the powerful music and throwing herself into the depths of an underground prison.

"Papa!" She rounded a curve and came face to face with her father, now covered with dirt and chained to a wall. They embraced each other generously, Christine not caring that his chains dug into her sides or that the trickle of blood on his forehead steadily stained the hood of her cloak.

"What's happened?" Christine asked breathlessly, running her hands over her father's face in the blinding darkness.

"You must leave, quickly, Christine. A terrible monster lives here, his face . . ." A cough broke free from his lungs; the previous night's air had taken its toll upon the older man. Stephan shuddered, tears glistening in his eyes.

"I can't leave you…" The music stopped. Stephan looked up the stairs in fear.

"Please, Christine, go! Go now!"

The somber echo of a stranger's steps resounded in the narrow tower. The light of a candle illuminated a long silhouette of a figure snaking its way towards father and daughter.

"I'm staying here with you, Papa! You're sick!"

A voice tingling with musicality cut clear through the dank air. "Monsieur, I see we have a guest, what an unparallel delight."

Christine bravely turned to face the figure. Surely, such a voice could not belong to the monster who had chained up her harmless father. A soft cry of surprise caught in her throat as the candlelight revealed the man who hid in the shadows of her dreams.

Padme's Author Note: I know we're late with the chapter. I also know it's the shortest one so far. The past week has been very hectic for both Jazzetry and I. The third chapter will probably also take a week, if not a little longer. I will start writing that tomorrow. Jazzetry wrote this chap, so it may seem a little different than the previous two, but I doubt it. We think on a parallel lines. Chapter three should have about three scenes, I think. We're still debating content. Also, in response to one reviewer's query about the age, there's nothing wrong with a twenty-year gap. It happened all the time back then, and still does. My parents are a prime example. Hope you enjoyed the chapter!