A/N: Sorry it took me so long to get back... but I am back now and with another chapter. Enjoy!
We Meet Again…
Mme Giry briskly walked back to the Ball. She was slightly worried leaving Christine alone, but figured the girl probably had a somewhat sensible head on her shoulders. Hopefully. At least she won't in any danger with Erik. Although, he seemed to be losing his mind. Well, no matter, what will be done, will be done. Mme Giry opened the door that led to the party, stepped in, and almost got run over by a couple of overly exited girls. More annoyed than surprised, Mme Giry followed them with her eyes to find what caused such excitement. Upon finding nothing, she glanced in the other direction. There stood her entire corpse de ballet along with a few chorus members, oohing and aahing and giggling uncontrollably. She knew immediately what was going on.
Dressed in an evening dress two sizes too big, a mask over his grotesquely painted face, a with a lasso in his hands, Joseph Buquet stood at the center of the circle, grinning like the fool he was and looking for the next victim to throw the lasso on.
"He stalks in the dead of night, like this, with his small and yellow eyes burning. And woe to those who see him!" Buquet continued his story. The girls squealed in delight and exaggerated fear when suddenly the lasso flew around of the girls' necks.
Erik watched, rather amused, as Buquet demonstrated once again the trick with the lasso. Funny, he thought, the man hardly knew him and already he was making up the most absurd things. Write in blood? Who ever had that bright idea? It congealed and dried so fast it was useless. As for him being a skeleton, well, it was what it was: just another rumor. His body was as good, if not better, as anyone else's. It was just left side of his face, hence the mask. And then, what was this whole business with the lasso? It was the most uninteresting and unreliable way of getting rid of someone. It was a ridiculous idea. Nothing he, Erik, would ever use. Unless… yes, he would teach the flies-man a lesson. Erik smiled as his mood lightened a bit. He was finally getting back into his usual self. Forget Christine, there was nothing she could give him.
"Watch your tongue, Joseph Buquet," Mme Giry warned, freeing the disappointed girl from the lasso, "Or you'll find your self hanging along with your flies."
Buquet did not reply but only took back his lasso and made his way to the refreshment table.
"Foolish man." Mme Giry whispered under her breath.
"Very interesting costume, Monsieur. Where did you find it?"
Erik turned to face the man behind him. He was tall, lean, and dressed as a general.
"Pardon?"
"The costume, it's very intriguing. Where did you get it?"
Erik thought for a moment and then replied,
"I made it." The man was silent for a few seconds.
"Made it?"
"Yes, Monsieur, made it."
"It is very impressive."
A compliment? For him?
"Thank you."
"I am Raoul de Chagny, by the way." the man said and extended his hand. Erik extended his own gloved hand in return. Raoul flinched slightly at Erik's strong grip but immediately hid it with a wide smile. "And you are?" he asked. Erik did not reply. Should he tell this man? Not even Christine knows his name. Better not. Instead, he replied,
"What a coincidence. I am Raoul too." Erik grinned, freed the man's hand, and walked away leaving a stunned Raoul behind. He felt unusually light then. He had made a joke, if that is what jokes were. Heh, people do act stupidly. What amazed Erik the most was the fact that it came so easily. He checked the clock on the far wall. It was getting late and his opera still remained unfinished. It would be his last opera before he left and he wanted it to be perfect. Christine would play the main part and he… he will… be gone. No more of Christine. There were other plans, but now they were useless.
The passage was dark and Christine shivered in the frigid air. What was this place? She didn't like it, but she wanted to know where it led. Her body pressed against the wall lest she slip and fall into the dark and the unknown. Aside from periodical dripping of water and Christine's ragged breath, the passageway was silent and very frightening. Where does it lead? Christine took a few more cautious steps, clinging to the cold and wet walls. Does anyone know of it? Pause. Whose is it? A couple more steps. A corner. Christine peered around it. More darkness. The air was stale and smelled of dead rats and rot. Goosebumps raced across Christine's skin. Wrapping arms around her body would mean letting go of the wall, and that was something she could not do. Better be cold than to die. Somewhere behind something stirred or moved or whatever. Christine's head whipped around, her heart pounding out the last seconds of her life, she was sure of it. She stood still for a moment. Deathly quiet. Not even the tiniest sound. Christine didn't know whether to be relieved or more frightened.
Suddenly, a shadow materialized out of nowhere and Christine found herself pinned closer to the wall, unable to move. She let out a scream and attempted to fight away the Death. Warm breath washed over her cheeks and a whisper penetrated her head.
"I knew someone was here." it said. Christine's entire body shook like a leaf. The Death had come at last to claim her.
"Please don't take me!" she cried out with all her strength.
A woman?! Erik was taken aback. In the dark he was not able to distinguish the gender and assumed that it was a man. But it was a woman!
"Please!" she said again, clutching his shirt. No, not just any woman, it was Christine! Curse her! How did she find her way in?
"What are you doing here!" Erik asked, prying her fingers off and pushing her back against the wall. Christine cringed.
"Please don't take me away, Lucifer's servant!" she pleaded. Lucifer's servant? What the devil was she talking about!
"Christine?"
