Christine stood back a few paces back watching a man huddle before her. All of a sudden she saw his back shake hoarsely tensing up then shaking again, she placed her hand upon the mans warm back. He stopped, but curled his cloak tight around his body and growled for his mask.
Sliding the delicate object she held in her hands placed it into his outstretched hand, but instead of accepting it he grasped her hand and twirled her around to face him. Expecting a face of rage, she opened her eyes meekly to stare back at a masked face. No anger, his eyes seemed delicate and inflamed from..crying?
Though he tried to hide it she could feel the man shudder from her touch. With a slight raspy voice he curtly replied, "A thoughts of a nightmare donned, why are you not frightened of me?" Christine started at him as snowflakes nestled against them both. "If I was with fright, I wouldn't be hear with my angel, the angel of the night."
He turned away quickly as to reject her ideas, "Pity, why would you care for a man whom was a freak on display?" she saw a direct shadow hit his face as his shoulders rolled. She didn't say anything, just the soft sounds of snow whistled through the air.
Torches of all sizes swirled around like fireflies in the night sky. The horrid faces of anger was a buzz as woman, men and children bared a weapon of some sort singing up tunes of hate.
"Kill the masked man see what he has done?"
"Made us flee made us run."
"Draw your weapons to the sky!"
"All to the phantom you shall die!"
A roll of chants ended the song while people smirked giving out shouts of anger. Until everything became a blur of rage as a soft mocking voice poured out onto the night sky.
"Kill him,"
"kill him!"
"KILL"
"Kill the mad man!"
"Kill.."
Almost screaming out the phantoms name for dear sake Christine awoke abruptly beads if sweat dripping from her perplexed face. Her face matched the color of the coverlet that surrounded her body, while her eyes where wide slowly dying down to normal size. Strangely it was quiet, but yet she was in her normal bed. The bed of the vicomete.
Softly someone spoke her name sharply, but trying to not scare her. Raoul stood looking at her, his shirt was loosely open and his hair tasseled about. He eyed her and figured the fringe of the coverlet. Strange enough he scrapped together a fatigued smile. "My flower, I'm so glad your here. Home, not wondering like a lost lamb." Christine stayed quiet as the Vicomete gave her a wandering kiss on her cheek, only she stared back if there was a deep troubled drought through out her body.
"Surely you found some company?"
"Yes,"
"With whom?"
Christine knew Raoul was smart, a simple trick would not outwit him. She laced her fingers with the sheets trying to obscure a nervous smile.
"An elderly woman, S-she was quite nice. She took me under her wing, it was far to cold. And my horse-
"Ah, but didn't you have a riding company? you hadn't forgot about the stableman I sent out with you?"
"Raoul please-
she was cut off by the man whom face was distinguished with a slight bit of satisfaction.
"Poor stableman did your biding for his Lady, ending up with a blow to the head?"
puzzled feelings took over the woman as she sat feeling like a puppet, and the puppeteer taunting her.
"Why so glum? had you forgotten to bid a proper farewell to the kind old madame?"
"Let me go get you someone who can escort you. Perhaps me?" with that he yanked her out of bed sending her almost sprawling face forward if he had not tensed his grip on her. She yet out a subsided yelp as he gave her a kiss harshly on her lips. A slight taste of rum filled her mouth.
with disgust, christine stood in awe as Raoul licked his lips if he had just been treated to a delicacy.
"Raoul.." the woman said as she felt a raw fresh sensation of tears elope her cheeks.
"Forget of that, dove." he said in a swooning way making Christine sick in her stomach.
another roll of tears covered her face.
"Lets find this woman so you speak of."
"Tis no woman I speak of, it is man whom was lost long ago."