I opened my mouth to scream, but smoke from the hole slithered into my mouth, choking me. I coughed and sputtered my screaming cut off. Then, a chair in the far corner of the room shot towards me and scooped me into a sitting position. The chair then continued towards the hole. I looked back at Scott, but he was still chanting and not paying any attention to me.

I began screaming, and thankfully, no smoke cut off my air supply. Just before the chair dumped me into the hole, I felt a strong arm grab me around the waist and yank me off the chair. As I looked on in horror, the chair, without me in it, fell down into the endless, smoky blue abyss. As I stared at the spot where the floor had been, I felt a touch on my shoulder, and turned to look at my rescuer.

I couldn't make out much in the dim light, but I could tell that he was tall, and what little light there was glinted off his dark blond hair. As I gazed at him, I heard angry crashing on the other side of the room. Scott had just realized that his little exorcism had not gone according to plan. He was stomping around the book and muttering expletives that I can safely say were not exactly mild. Upon hearing his words, I saw my companion's tall body tremble with rage. He stood up, stalked over to the other side of the room, and faced Scott.

"Now sir, that is not how a gentleman talks in front of a lady." His voice was soft and clear, and I could hear a soft southern drawl in it.

Instead of looking threatened, Scott just laughed. "Oh, yeah? Who's a lady? And I can talk any way I want in front of anybody. It's no business of yours."

My companion flipped on the lights in the room. Then, his hand went for his hip.

"I'm normally not a man of violence, but sir, you leave me no choice." Then, he pulled out a gun, and pulled the trigger. Scott attempted to jump out of the way, but was wounded in the abdomen in the process. As he lay moaning on the ground, I walked over to him.

"How could you be injured? You've already died once." He gave me a look.

"Mother resurrected me." His voice was weak, and after he spoke, he let out a scream of pain. Then, his body jerked, he screamed a little more, and then his body stilled forever.

After I made sure he could no longer move, I stepped away from him, and walked over to my rescuer who had returned his gun to its storage place.

He looked at me, and he smiled, holding out his hand. "Christine."

I shook my head, confused. "Who are you? How do you know me?"

He withdrew his hand and looked at me sadly.

"You don't remember me? I thought you would. My name is Michael. Michael Allen-Park."

I frowned for a minute, thinking about whether I truly remembered this boy, young man really.

My thoughts were interrupted however, by the sound of feet pounding desperately up the stairs, and all of a sudden, Melanie burst into the room. She took one look at Michael and me and sighed in relief.

"Michael, thank god you found her. I heard screaming, tell me what happened?"

Michael and I shifted our eyes towards Scott's dead body. Melanie followed our gazes, and her eyes widened.

"What happened to him?"

I gulped. "He was Leota and the Phantom's son Mellie. He was going to banish both of us to limbo so that he could be in his parents' good graces. But then Michael shot him and saved me."

She wrinkled her nose. "Who would willingly spend more time with the Phantom or Leota then they absolutely have to?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. Family can make you do strange things."

Melanie looked at Michael and straightened up. "Well, I guess since the two of you are together, then we can be heading back to Christine's house."

I stared at her. "What? We can't go home now! We haven't even been here very long! Besides, he knows me, but I don't know him, and even if I do know him, I don't remember it. Explain that to me."

Melanie took my hand. "We will, Christine. Just wait until we get in Michael's car, and we'll explain on the way."

And with that, she led me to another Packard parked behind the house.

"How'd you get this?" I asked Michael.

He looked at me with his deep blue eyes, and my brain seemed to stop working.

"It actually belongs to the man who lives in my former home. I borrow it occasionally."

"But you're a ghost. Wouldn't it look weird out on the road to see a car driving with no one at the steering wheel?"

Michael shook his head. "You really haven't been dead very long have you? The longer you're a ghost, the more visible you become to other people. Like if a living person looked at you right now, they wouldn't be able to see you at all because you've only been dead a few days. But me, I died seventy years ago in the quake, so I've had some time on this earth for people to get used to me."

I nodded. After the three of us had settled into the car and were on the road, I asked Melanie, "How do you guys know each other?"

And Melanie said, "Michael was Jack's brother, and my brother-in-law-to-be."

"Melanie, where do I come into all of this?"

"Well, one summer after you left the house with your father, Michael came up to me and asked me who you were. I asked him why he wanted to know, and he told me that he thought you were pretty. Then, he said that he had talked to Miss Mary the day before, and that she had told him a way to get Jack back."

"Two questions. One, who is Miss Mary, and two, how would you get Jack back?"

Melanie held up her hand. "Calm down, I'm getting there. One, Miss Mary is like a benevolent version of Madame Leota. She communicated with any lost spirits before the quake. And two, the way to get Jack back was for Michael to fall in love, then come back and live with his love in Ravenswood Manor. That would prove that love could exist in this house, and that is what Jack needs to come back."

"Okay, but if we need to stay at your house, why are we going back to mine?"

"Because you two aren't actually in love yet, and you still have lots of issues regarding your parents that need fixing. Then we can start on getting Jack back.

After a bit of driving, we reached home, and when we got inside, thankfully, there were no introductions from Leota. I turned to Michael, and let my own Southern drawl come back.

"Welcome to my home. If you like, I'll give you the tour."

He nodded, grinning. As we entered the portrait gallery though, something surprising happened. I heard a voice, sharp and commanding in the empty room.

"Christine!"

I looked up. It was coming from Grandma Mary's portrait!

Moonjava- Thanks. I hope I haven't lost you yet!

Aquarian Wolf- Here's the next Christine chappie sooner then expected! Hope you like it!