Chapter 9

(A/N: Another one of my favorite chapters of my phic!)

"So, Christine," I began, clearing my throat with a cough. "There are a number of things I must retrieve for you."

"Like what?" Christine asked, innocently. She seemed slower than usual, her brain must still be half-asleep. I sighed, "I said that I shall get you a dress and a hairbrush," I went over to a small mirror that was hanging on the wall and removed it from its spot. I gave it to her so she could see her reflection, "You do not want to look like this all day, do you?" I smirked watching as she tried to yank the knots out with a forceful pull of her fingers. "Oh, I do look hideous!"

"Hideous, no. But I would have to say that it takes away from your beauty."

"Beau-" I interrupted her before she said something that would make this moment awkward.

"Do not worry, Christine. I shall return, just stay put," I did not mean to say it threateningly, however, she flinched at my demand so I smiled in reassurance, "I'll be back soon, I promise."

Christine sat herself down on a chair and nodded at me, silently. Her stomach broke the wordlessness with a loud growl and her cheeks turned red at the sound. "Ah! Err, sorry," She said, embarrassed, "I really have not eaten much..."

I chuckled, "Understood. I do not know if I have anything down here to satisfy your rowdy stomach, but I shall see what I can bring from upstairs."

Christine smiled, weakly and pointed out, "Erik, you chuckled again."

With a grin, I responded, "So I did." And started on my way back up to the Opera House.

But I reminded her not to move, of course.

I hurried to fetch Christine's things so that I could get it to her before she is overbore by curiosity. As I got higher, the tumultuous bustle of the managers, instructors, ballet dancers, Opera singers, and all, moving so energetically and busily. I ran over to Madame Giry whom I have spotted from my hiding spot behind a statue in the main lobby. She seemed to be walking to the stage but I quickly ran to her but my shoes made no sound on the tiles. I made sure they were mute. I took her wrist and dragged her to the underneath of a staircase, where it was dark enough that nobody would see us. "Before you begin to holler at me for pulling you under here and making you tardy for your lesson with the dancers, I need your help," I spoke quickly, I felt as though time was scarce. It wasn't that I did not trust Christine; I don't trust her inquiring mind. Curiosity; a most discreditable female trait, indeed. "'Help'? Now, Erik,"

"Madame Giry! Please! I have Christine Daae in my underground-"

"You have Christine Daae? Erik, will you desist your childish antics? That girl is a ballerina! She does not need to be a part of your little parade!"

"I know, I am sorry. Just please, I need to get some food, a dress, and a hairbrush for Christine right away."

Madame Giry stepped out of the shadows and started back towards the stage, "I am sorry, dear, but I have something I must get to." I growled and stormed off. I had to do this myself; how I would get into the Christine's dorm without being acknowledged by her little ballerina friends would be miraculous. But who would not notice a young man draped in black with a white porcelain mask upon the right side of his face?

"Oh, Erik better hurry. I am getting so very bored," Christine complained. She sat in the chair, squirming around. She could not sit still... not with such elegant and beautiful things surrounding her. Every inch of Erik's sanctuary was a work of art. No, it was not just a work of art; they were masterpieces unlike anything Christine has ever seen! Each piece of furniture was so lovely, and even alluring. Christine wanted to see it all. Everything had a beautiful pattern or design on it... everything. Chairs, tables, vases, paintings... so exquisite. They were all unique but they went well with each other. "Oh, I would like to lay eyes upon the gorgeous artwork of Erik's home," It was all so tempting but Christine restrained herself. "No, he told me to stay. I should obey him... I do not want another broken hand... oh, I cannot allow curiosity to consume me!"

She plopped down onto the chair, "But he has to get here soon. Hearing my voice and nobody else's respond to it seems rather ho hum."

I have already been running around for twenty minutes and I managed to take food from somebody. I had it in a bag; it was just some fruit and bread, but it was better than nothing. But the little ballerinas' practise did not start until later today because the older dancers have been preparing for an upcoming opera.

I have almost been seen by a number of people. I'm not much of an Opera Ghost... but what am I to do? I may be a genius, but I am still a person. Wait, I am a genius. I should be able to outwit a bunch of preteens and teenage girls. I know...

"I am telling you, I know nothing of Christine's whereabouts!" In the dorm, Meg was crowded by the girls as they pleaded for the latest gossip concerning Christine. "Oh, Meg, you are lying! You know very well where Christine is!" One girl accused.

"Yes! You are Christine's best friend, are you not? So where is she?" Another girl said.

"You are all so persistent!"

"Meg, you are acting strangely. Usually, you would place the blame upon your Monsieur O.G. but now..!"

"Monsieur O.G. does not exist! It was all a hoax! Just come off it," Meg grumbled.

At that moment, there was a soft playing of a violin heard. "Wait!" Meg was the first to hear my violin-playing. "You hear that? It's O.G.!"

"I thought you just said he doesn't exist."

"I know that is him, I recognise his music!"

Meg ran out of the room towards the roof and all the girls followed her, calling her name for her to slow down because some of them couldn't keep up. I came out from where I was. I was playing quietly, so that Meg would think I was playing from as far away as the roof.

She fell into my trap. I kept playing and walked into the dorm and found Christine's belongings, dug through them, and found a dress. I put down the violin for a second and I threw it over my shoulder, grabbed a hairbrush with brown strands of hair that I knew so well, wrapped around its bristles. Finally, my errands were concluded...

And it has almost been an hour since I left Christine. What of her now?

'I should have stayed still, but Erik was taking way too long!' Christine wandered through Erik's home, so amused. She walked slowly around, looking at everything with inquisitive eyes. There was a smile upon her face as she stared at the bizarre, but beautiful artworks. Then she entered what seemed to be a bedroom. Furnished nicely, but simply. Candles lit the room, a bureau, a couch with a painting hanging above it, and of course...

A coffin?

Christine drew back and her eyes were now filled with fright and she felt like crying. What was this coffin and why did Erik have it in his bedroom? It was so disturbing, it made her stomach churn. She never wanted to see a coffin again... not after she saw her father put in one. She quickly spun around and retreated to the chair she was supposed to remain in. She sat herself down and tears soaked her face and her nightclothes as they ran down her cheeks.

Her chest was in excrutiating pain and her bawls were so loud and full of sorrow.

A simple casket... a wooden box... caused her so much torment. 'Why did I allow myself to explore Erik's... dungeon despite what he said? A prying Pandora, that is what I am! But I have nobody here to reassure me, like she did! No father... and how will Erik explain that coffin? That evil little box of death!'

Christine cried and after a few minutes, she felt arms around her body. Mine. I had taken longer than I had hoped and when I returned to see tears in her eyes, my heart broke into so many pieces. And I whispered into her ear,

"Why are you crying?"