Chapter One

Embraced by the protective darkness, his filthy attire blended with the surroundings, his form melting into the night. Black hair, tangled with grime and stale perspiration, spilled over his face, which was covered by a layer of dirt and various fresh scratches. Only his white mask shone in the faint moonlight, giving off an unnatural glow.

The man was half-sitting amid a rubble of broken glass, trembling with an unknown emotion. Head drawn toward his knees and arms wrapped around his legs, he appeared to be trying to find some sort of comfort in a makeshift hug. He was rocking back and forth on his heals, occasionally releasing a helpless moan. His fingers were steadily turning an ominous shade of white, digging forcefully into his legs with unspoken determination.

Without a warning, the figure's head snapped up, revealing a pair of glowing eyes. Inside the orbs, an eternity of broken emotions was locked up. Burning hate, crushing despair, intolerable rejection, and endless longing fought with each other, each briefly resurfacing, only to be pulled down once again by its companions. Yet the shadow of numb acceptance constantly remained.

A single word escaped the man, the growl of his whisper lingering acidly in the air.

"Christine."

Christine's eyes flew open, naked terror etched into every shade of her heated face. A layer of cold sweat formed itself along the back of her neck, while a shudder launched itself down her spine.

Trying to steady her labored breathing, she inhaled deep breaths of the soothing July air that flowed in through a slightly ajar window. Closing her eyes, Christine tried to erase the images that followed her from the nightmares, only to find them burned horribly accurately on the inside of her eyelids.

For the past few weeks, Christine's fitful slumber was relentlessly haunted by the same images, the same actions, the same muttered name. Every night she would be greeted by the same pitiful sight of her bedraggled angel slowly falling apart.

It has come to the point that his broken face lingered before hers even while being shielded by the graceful arms of sunlight, casting a growing shadow of guilt to constantly lurk around her heels. Her uttered name was blended with the soft flow of evening breezes; his crumbled form inhabited various darkened corners of the Chagny household. And the eyes- Oh God, the eyes!

Scarred with hopelessness and final surrender, the twins of endless tangled emotions haunted Christine's living hours. The loss was overwhelming, but the raw loathing was unbearable. She had seen brief displeasure and annoyance flash through his eyes, but never such strong hate. Was it even possible for a single human being to posses such feelings?

The young Vicomtesse sighed and rolled over. Rhythmic chirping of crickets eventually caressed her thundering heartbeat back to a reasonable pace. However, only when the first faint rays of the rising sun announced their master's entrance did the woman fall back into a fitful slumber.

Chirping birds enthusiastically dragged Christine from her sleep. Stretching, she let out an unladylike yawn and pushed herself out of bed. Letting her thin feet glide into a pair of slippers, Christine stumbled sleepily through the bedroom and made her way to the downstairs parlour.

Picking up a small porcelain figure shaped in the form of a swan, she absent-mindedly ran her fingers repeatedly down the smooth curve of its neck, jumbled thoughts woven throughout her body.

All had been well the half-year or so after the wedding to her dear Raoul. However, the past few weeks' worth of sleeping were filled with nothing other than the repeated image of her bitter angel. At first, guilt and shame flooded Christine's body, growing and expanding on her thoughts. These emotions took a physical toll on the Vicomtesse, dramatically changing her eating habits and cutting back on the amount of sleep. As a result, mirrored dark semicircles found themselves inhabiting the area below Christine's eyes, and her dresses hung loosely over her. Now, the guilt subsided and was replaced by a spark of annoyance. Couldn't he release her of his spell? Was she to remain an eternal prisoner of his, punished by the ghost of his remaining soul? She knew that she betrayed her companion, her irreplaceable teacher, the one person that was closer to the figure of her father than anyone else, but couldn't the pain go away?

Christine replaced the porcelain swan back to its place, bringing is down harder than necessary. A tiny crack appeared along the figurine's neck. Frustrated by her own confusion, she let out a tired sigh.

"Madam?" came a timid voice.

Turning around, Christine noticed her maid standing uncertainly near the doorway.

"Madam, forgive me. I did not expect for you to rise so early. Your breakfast will be served as soon as possible. Perhaps you would like a nice mug of warm tea while you wait,Madame deChagny?"

Christine adapted what she hoped was a warm smile and nodded. A cup of tea could never do any harm. "That would be lovely. And do not worry about my early rise, I was merely a bit restless."

Faint concern started to peek its way into the maid's eyes, but she simply performed a grateful bow. "Thank you, madam."

Without a backward glance, the maid disappeared into the kitchen.

Deciding she might as well wash up and get dressed, Christine made her way back upstairs. Careful not to disturb her sleeping husband, she quietly opened the door, closing it with a stifled click. Turning around, Christine was surprised to find Raoul already sitting up in bed, his torso propped up against the wall.

Letting out a faint smile in response to the look of surprise that flashed across his wife's face, Raoul inspected her disheveled form.

Tired, he thought to himself, like always.

"Good morning, my love. Why are you up so early?" he inquired.

Christine mumbled something about not being very tired and shifted her gaze to the floor.

Raoul frowned, but knew that his wife wouldn't reveal anything else at the time. "I was thinking of riding over to the Fournier's after lunch today and drop in for some tea. Would you like that?"

Christine nodded, feeling the far-away feeling of tears forming inside. Raoul had apparently noticed the change in Christine, for he was constantly beckoning her to eat her food and get a good night's sleep. He was careful to always handle her in a gentle manner, shielding her from the unknown enemies, yet still treating her like the young woman that she was. He had tried to draw Christine out of the house and introduce her to a few of his friends, believing that socializing would ward off a few of her worries.

Gratitude bubbled through Christine's body, silently thanking Raoul for his patience. Even though she didn't particularly enjoy going to various get-togethers where she was required to sit still and discuss issues completely irrelevant to her life, she knew that Raoul was doing this for her. Christine was determined to act her happiest today.

Tired relief settled on Raoul's face, thankful that Christine accepted his offer. Sliding out of bed, he made his way toward her frail figure, a mischievous smile beginning to appear at the corners of his lips. "And in the evening, perhaps, we can take a nice stroll through the park."

Christine smiled and some of her former youthful beauty and charm reappeared. "The park sounds fabulous."

Embracing her small body, Raoul let his hand wander within her rich curls that framed her face. His other arm supported her back, which felt unusually thin below his touch. Frowning once more, he made a mental note to supervise Christine closer during dinner. He pulled her tighter into his hug.

"Take care of yourself, my darling."

The meeting with the Fournier's finally finished, the couple made their way through the otherwise empty park. Adjacent to the Chagny estate, it was easy to mistake the park as an extension to the Chagny's own filed of green. Illuminated by the lights that smiled through the windows and the shimmer of overhead stars, the pair was bathed in a subtle tone of warm silver.

Arms interwoven, they strolled along the path, sharing words containing teasing secrets. Christine's bell-like giggle rang in the air, its owner furiously blushing at one of Raoul's compliments. Running ahead, she tugged her husband along, her mind filled with memories of the simple love of their childhood.

Pleasantly surprised at his wife's relit energy, Raoul followed, easily sweeping her into an embrace. Gently tilting her head back with his finger, her relaxed features swept past his face and focused on something behind him.

Christine gasped. Floating underneath the moon, a lone cloud was illuminated, revealing the silhouette of a man, his wings crushed and trailing behind him.

No, she thought. It's just my imagination. It's just a cloud. Why was he still following her? Why was it his figure she saw while wrapped safely in Raoul's arms?

Thoroughly annoyed, she brought her gaze back to Raoul, a new type of gleam in her eyes. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she leaned forward and brought her lips forcefully onto Raoul, who now stood with obvious shock. Christine kissed hard, all of the bottled up frustration and doubt rushing through her. Dangerous feelings flowed over her, causing her to pull closer toward Raoul.

She vowed to end the phantom's presence once and for all.