Hey everybody, I'm here with you and chapter six hope you all enjoy!
Disclaimer: I still own nothing…in fact can I just have a little name tag that says "Hello, my name is Welfare"?
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The frigidly cold winter that Erik was normally so accustomed too now seemed disenchanting and dire in every sense of the word. The only consolation that found him in his dreary world on a somewhat average basis was the hours he spent perfecting his Don Juan. Although he once believed that it was exactly as it should be, now that he was estranged from Christine nothing seemed good enough anymore. In fact he found himself overly exasperated with every off note and each pointless line in the script. On the other hand as grueling as it was to admit he did have another source of tranquility that found him occasionally. This particular form of reassurance was rare and eluding, though he still found himself incredibly grateful when it came to him willingly…Dreams as they were. Sometimes so real and lifelike that he could swear that Christine was there with him when he awoke and the harsh realization that she wasn't even close was maddening. He found himself calling out into his world of eternal night, shouting out her name as though she would appear if he could scream it loud enough. Still, however she never came and before he knew it he was once again alone with his insanity and the crippling loneliness that consumed his never-ending days.
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The change in season was a hopeful blessing to Christine. The time she often spent near and around the chapel was usually used up observing the changes in weather through the stained glass windows that she had come to know so well. Regardless of the best of attempts from Meg and Madam Giry Christine had no desire to participate in the other doings of most girls her age. While the other ballet rats and chorus girls would spend their free days in the city, exploring and enjoying the oncoming spring weather Christine would sit miserably in her dark and dismal chapel or her bedroom, humming the many songs that she knew so well. Some people had silently accused her of going mad. They talked behind her back on a regular basis, for without the doings of their Opera Ghost, the rumor mill was slow and not forth coming. Some had proposed that the massive demands of her new diva lifestyle had gotten to her and that she now spent her days preoccupied with the voices of her mind.
Madam Giry of course scolded any spreading of these rumors and as did Meg (who had been given reluctant details on the situation) each female often encouraged her to attend rehearsals and frequently enough the task could be completed with some minimal prompting. But it could not be helped that her eyes were looking sunken in and hollow. The loss of weight could not be denied, nor could the look of an incomplete nature that seemed to haunt her with every breath. Some of the older and more mature Opera personnel observed that Mademoiselle Daae appeared to be grieving rather than going mad. (Although who is to identify that it is not the same thing?) And as so they share their ignorant compassion for her and offered a kind word now and then hoping that the young protégé would find something beyond her unhappiness to compel her time with.
Their hope was soon granted when the announcement of the annual BAL Masquerade was given by the managers. Soon anticipation of the event and excitement took over the stage and was filled with the sound of thrilled voices and planning of all kinds. Decorations could be seen coming in and out of the theater filling the halls with light and colors of all sorts. The young Meg Giry observed all this with an idea forming in her blonde head. She smiled to herself as she watched several stagehand workers argue over the lighting of the event from her place on the stage. As soon as rehearsal was over she quickly excused herself and proceeded to the chapel where had desperately hoped she could rescue her friend from the sorrow she dwelled in.
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Unknown to anyone else, Christine was silently thanking her blessings for the current scandals that had occurred during the late winter that took attention away from not only her and the Opera House but from any talk of such supernatural things at all. And despite their diligence Christine hadn't revealed anything incriminating and eventually it seemed as though the police were truly getting tired of the run around. Since the notorious 'Spirit' seemed to have 'disappeared' things around the Opera Populaire were quite serene now.
As usual Christine was contemplating her heavy thoughts in the chapel when the sound of excited footsteps echoed from the stairs behind her.
"Christine!"
Christine smiled faintly through mid-prayer and opened her eyes to look up at her vivacious friend who carried a large bundle of cloth in her hands.
"I am sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you." She said with a timid smile.
"I know." Replied her friend softly as she lit another candle.
"Christine look," She began slowly. "Mother and I arranged some fabrics that we could use as part of our masquerade dresses." She said cheerfully. "I think you would look absolutely wonderful in this light green-"
"Meg." Christine whispered as she rose to stand by her friend. "I don't think I wish to go to the Masquerade."
"Oh Christine but you must! It's simply a fantastic excuse to dress up! And Mother said that Monsieur Reyer has tremendous segments of music planned, the entertainment is even suppose to be better than last year! Everyone who's anyone will be there-"
"Wait." Christine said quietly as she grabbed her friend's hand. She stood in unvoiced deliberation for a moment before a smile lighted up her face for the first time in months. 'Everyone who's anyone will be there'
"Christine? What is it?" She asked with concern.
"Meg, I believe your right...have your mother meet me in my room at once...I have an idea that I'll need your help with.
Meg had no time to even reply before her friend had run from the room humming some song unknown to her and smiling as though she were a little child again.
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"I don't know what you wish me to do!" Bellowed the livid man as he stormed through the Viscount's study doors. While Aubert Bartlett had always respected and even admired the young man at times for his resolve and unique persistence he now found himself irritated by the young gentleman who was contacting his offices day and night demanding updates practically on the hour on the investigation of the Phantom. Much to the Viscount's disappointment however very little, (practically nothing in fact) had turned up at all. Extraordinarily little evidence had turned up and as it was the this 'so called mad man' who was terrorizing the Opera House was in fact probably just some overly clever prankster who had been frightened away by the announcement of the formal inspection.
Still the Viscount continued this harassment, insisting that the Phantom was simply hiding out and waiting before he made his next move. Maintaining that if the investigation were called off that the appreciation would do something just as horrible as the night of Hannibal, simply to mock their failing efforts.
"I want you to continue the search!" He called trailing behind his friend, ignoring the noisy servants as they looked through the large oak doors for the source of the clamor. Raoul shut the door with a large thud and sighed tremendously.
"Something is wrong with that Opera House. This man I have told you of is perilous! He has taken over Christine's mind-"
"Mademoiselle Daae has complained of no such thing! We have interviewed her on several different occasions and she claims to know nothing of this man you speak of!"
"Do you accuse me of being envious of a monster, sir? I have seen what that thing is capable of!"
"I know you care for this woman Raoul," began the older man sitting down in a nearby chair. "But you have to consider the fact that maybe she doesn't require a rescue from you. Perhaps there is nothing amiss at all!"
"I have seen her!" Raoul said with his last piece of energy as he sank in the chair near his friend. "She…looks like a ghost…" He said sadly as he shook his head and shut his eyes tightly.
"Or maybe she is being seduced by one…"
"Then you agree that something is erroneous ?"
The older gentleman rested a large hand on his massive belly. " We are still uncertain if any other crime has taken place other than that of that dreadful stagehand…bust still we will not end the investigation just yet Raoul…but eventually…you will have to let her go…. One way or another, you cannot keep her forever."
'Watch me…' He thought wordlessly to himself.
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What does everybody think? I know this is kind of a short chapter but it just kind of sets everything up for the next one. As usual please let me know what you think and review!