Ah. There's my caffeine snap! All ready to go. Even through I hate Raoul and Raoulish figures, I must do this. Enjoy my pretties cue evil laugh!

Ch. 7 She's gone mad!

Chris burst into Riley's recuperation room, the picture of a young man in turmoil His beloved lay on her bed, deathly pale from the loss of blood. Many chorus girls were crowded around her cot, offering sweets or condolences. Chris rudely shoved them to the side, rushing to Riley. She smiled weakly at his presence, trying to sit up. A large bandage was wrapped about her torso, her formerly adorning corset sliced off and thrown carelessly into the corner. Chris took her into his arms, stroking her golden hair. Meg followed close behind, carrying a large lantern. Since Riley had been found unconscious in the hall in a pool of her own blood, nobody could sleep. A red rose had lay on her breast, a mocking signature. The whole opera house was awake at two in the morning. The Phantom of the Opera had struck again.

His eyes running over her weedy form, Chris cried, " Who did this to you?" Riley looked utterly horrified at reliving the experience. Without a word, she handed him the rose that had been left at her proposed dying place. Chris snatched the flower, his eyes filled with fear. He crushed the petals in his shaking hands, weeping softly at the plight. He suddenly stood up, kissed Riley on the forehead, and bolted from the room. Meg was at his heels in an instant, her flimsy nightdress billowing behind her like a drag chute. "Chris!" exclaimed " Chris! What on earth was that about?" Chris took Meg by the shoulders abruptly, giving her a little shake. With a tired, frightened look in his eyes, he said:

She lives inside of me

To watch, to guard

Now she has gone quite mad

All exits are barred!

Meg gently removed herself from his grasp, replying:

Who is this angle now

Who hunts to kill

Can you escape from her,

Her iron will?

Together, they sang,

And in this opera house,

Where her whim is rule

The phantom of the opera

Shall be here, our deadly jewel!

He looked wholly defeated. Meg gave him a shoulder hug, and then returned to her mother. Chris was left by himself, contemplating his problem. His angel had nearly killed Riley. Surely, this was no angel. He stiffened up in a petrified rigor mortis. Why, he had been bamboozled by the phantom! He felt completely obtuse for not recognizing it earlier. She must have drugged him or something, chemicals doing her work. Not caring whether or not anybody saw, he broke down and wept on his knees.

Erika, on the other hand, seemed very pleased with herself at the moment. She lazily swirled a vial of poison in front of her face. The mixture was of her own creation, designed to kill within minutes. The girl regretted not guaranteeing herself Riley's death. Now, her rival was alive and Chris knew her for what she was. Nevertheless, she was satisfied with her professional work. Those fools Firmin and Andre dared not disobey her again. She literally had the whole opera house on a string, her plaything.

A shelf filled with toxins covered a whole wall, like a library housing confusion, delirium, nausea, and death. The bottles glittered in the candlelight, casting bright colors onto the walls. She felt dizzy, almost giddy. Now that she was a highly feared and dangerous individual, she had taken leave of her senses. An onlooker would have called the episode a raving fantasy. She called it empowerment.

Erika grabbed a bottle of love potion, cackled a few phrases in Swedish, then smashed the bottle against the wall. The crazed creature gibbered like an ape, watching the fumes of the concoction rise into the air. Miles away, Chris was believing the correct thing. His angel had lost her mind.

Sorry it's so short. I'll make up for it later. Goodnight!