The tickets they had booked for the ship were for the next morning. They had booked into a small B&B on the Cote de Plage, facing the docks. Christine watched out of the window as the workers tied up their boats for the night, the restaurants began to turn on their comforting lights of welcome, inviting smells of seafood traveling up to her. The cool seaside breeze was a welcome change to the weather she had been accustom to for the past few days. Her mind was the most at ease it had been for a while. Although her head was still throbbing, it was strangely mundane. Her emotions had calmed a little, and she could hear her heart had stopped beating as fast. She felt far from happy, her heart was broke. But the fear for her life had now turned to revenge. She wasn't going to die; these people would not get what they wanted from her. They had killed Raoul, and would now suffer for it. She was going to stay alive for him.
Nasih was sitting on a basket chair inside the room. He drew back on a cigarette, breathing it in deeply, and releasing through his nostrils, ever watching Christine. He was intrigued by her. He had not seen her in the first month at the De Chagney residence when he had first taken the job of coach driver. She had been shut away in a room, away from the outside world. Rumors had spread around the maids and staff at the Estate about her apparent madness. He heard that she had fell into a deep depression, and refused to talk to anyone, not even her fiancée. His experience of her was confusing. In certain situations, he would have found her quite annoying. She did nothing but whine and cry, yet his heart went to her. She was in mourning; she had seen horrendous things for a young girl. He frowned sympathetically at her, watching the night breeze dance around her, shifting her freshly washed hair slightly. She turned suddenly, catching his stare. He was too stubborn to look away, but he did look embarrassed. She sighed, not really noticing. She sat slowly onto the bed, her face twisting slightly as her leg knocked against the side of the bed. She breathed quietly for a while, listening to the buzz of the night outside.
"Why do you fear him?"
Nasih spoke in his slightly accented voice. She never turned to look at him. She closed her eyes. Should she tell him what happened. She still really didn't know who Nasih was.
"Because of what Iv done to him."
Nasih shifted to the edge of his seat curiously. So these two did have a long history together, and what he had collaborated, a pretty bad one.
"He obviously cares for you." He said quietly. Christine made a huffing sound of disbelief. She stared into the distance for a while before replying. The silence was deafening.
"I…I can't ask him for forgiveness." She said, with her voice breaking. "My actions were unforgiving. I was surprised he even cares that I am alive."
"Wh...What did you do?" Nasih almost whispered. She turned this time, looking directly into his eyes with her large chestnut ones. He felt hypnotized by her, mystery pulsating from her beauty, deepening her once innocent features. Sadness blazed in her eyes, making his heart leap.
"I killed him."
Nasih sat in the silence for a while, a look of confusion and shock on his face. She turned to look out the window. She tried to talk, but nothing louder than a squeak came forth. She tried again.
"I took his heart, toyed with it, and threw it back in his face." Tears were now pouring down her face. All Nasih wanted to do was wipe them away, for he could not stand the look of loss he saw so deeply in her expression, and expression he had seen more distant in his masters eyes. He slowly made his way over to her, and sat down next to her. He had extinguished his cigarette, and rested his elbows on his knees, clutching his hands together, hanging loosely. They stared out of the window for a while, thinking their own private thoughts in each others company.
"Thank you." Came a whisper from Christine. He turned his head to look at her. The girl, young enough to be his own daughter, looked fondly at him, or as fondly as she could muster. He smiled kindly.
"My pleasure Miss Daae." He held one of her tiny hands and gave her a sincere look. "You know, I don't think everything will be as bad as you think. If what I am witnessing here is love, then real love, Christine, will always overthrow feelings of guilt and hatred. I promise you."
She smiled through her tears. She lifted up his hand he had wrapped around hers and kissed it. He looked surprised, but she clutched it and continued smiling.
"I will keep you to that promise, Monsieur."
- --
George pressed the gun harder into Megs head. Maria Giry was trapped. Her daughter was in the line of danger, and so would her foster daughter if she spoke. Christine meant the world to Giry, but she could not overlook her own daughter's safety.
"You shoot, and I will never talk." She spat. In frustration, Monsieur Robard threw Meg to the floor aggressively, making her cry out in pain. He grabbed Madame Giry and spun her around, so he had tight hold of her arms behind her back. He moved to talk in her ear.
"Then if you can't watch our daughter die, then maybe you can witness suffering of a different kind, hmm?"
He nodded to the men who were watching from the corner, and they pounced on Meg. Meg began to scream, kick and tried to wriggle out of their grip, but four men on one young girl was never a winning situation. They pushed her around, laughing cruelly and lifting her skirts tormenting her. She tried to run past them a few times, and one time she tried, one man, a fat burly man with tattoos all up his arms grabbed her and pushed her to the floor. She kit the floor with a terrible crack to the head. Madame Giry was screaming for the torment to stop.
"Just say you'll talk, and it will all go away." Monsieur Robard scoffed. Madame Giry hesitated. Inevitably, the worst was still yet to come, and it had already started, as the men were now ripping at Megs clothes, who had collapsed in the middle of the cruel circle.
"Ok! Ok I will talk. Arrêt, please! Stop this…"
The men looked disappointed as Robard ward them off Meg. Meg, sobbing, crawled into her mother's arms, who had slumped to the floor in shock when Robard had let her go. She shushed her daughter softly, yet gave Robard deathly looks.
"Your own daughter…" She breathed heavy. "You're…your sick."
"Maybe." Robard said casually. "But now, you will talk. Or I will not stop my men this time." Meg grabbed her mother's arms as she stood.
"Non Mamon! I can't let him hurt Christine! I will gladly suffer for her."
Meg saw tears welling in Madame Giry's eyes. Her voice broke in her answer.
"My darling, I can't let them hurt you. You are my daughter. At least Christine has a chance, but you, you my love, your sitting prey." She let out a sob after this, and Meg clung to her.
Robard was getting impatient. He ragged Meg away from her mother, and pulled Madame Giry up, slamming her once again into the wall. She held her by her arms and face, looking her dead in the eyes.
"One last time. WHERE…is she?"
Madame Giry looked to the floor in utter shame.
"At the De Chagney residence. She's Raoul's de Chagney's wife."
He pressed her into the wall harder, putting a tightening grip on her waist.
"I won't be as forgiving next time. I will hurt her. Now tell me the truth."
Madame Giry looked confused.
"That is the truth, bastard."
He hit her across the face. "We've already traced her there, no luck on catching her though. She is a slippery little character, but she was helped. What I want to know is where she has gone."
Madame Giry was secretly glad. Christine got away! She thanked God someone was watching over her. But who? Who had helped her? I didn't matter for the moment; at least she was safe, or as safe as she could be without these lunatics knowing where she was.
Robard went to hit her again, and when she flinched, he laughed.
"I know you know something, Maria. Tell me, or the brat gets innocence destroyed." The men laughed roughly. Meg had cowered in the opposite corner to them, next to the chair and window. Robard sighed.
"Have it your way." He signaled them towards Meg, but she stopped them.
"NO WAIT!" She screamed. She looked her former lover in the eyes.
"If this is a lie, Maria, you will pay."
Madame Giry would have gladly suffered for Christine, yet her Meg; she could not let anyone touch her. No, she would have to tell them what she thought to be true.
"I promise you, I don't know where she is, or where she might have run too." She ignored the angry glint in the man's eyes. "Yet, yet I do know where you might find something else of use. You can take that and leave us alone; we can be no more of use."
"You tell me first what it is." He hissed.
Madame Giry gulped, and gave a fleeting glance to her daughter. Meg looked fearfully back. At least this way, they had helped without putting Christine in danger, money or none.
"I know, George, where Christine's documents are. All you will need to be classed as her inheritor."
Christine has fallen into a depression after her leaving Erik in the Opera. Attempts to make her feel better dont go exactly to plan