Chapter 17- Lurking Evil.

Christine sat alone on a solitary bench in the local park. She could not deny its beauty but her mind drifted back to her own garden and its magnificence. It was early evening and very few people had past her although at one point she was sure that she had seen Madame Giry across the way. Christine plucked a twig from the floor and rolled it between her thumb and forefinger, watching the tiny knots dance as it twirled. She threw it back to the ground and stood up to walk. It was the perfect night for it, so warm and dry yet not humid, none of the stifling dampness in the air that there had been. She had half expected a massive thunderstorm but none had come and instead the ground remained dry and the air pure.

She walked slowly along the winding path around the outskirts of the field, admiring the flowers she past along the way and occasionally stopping in her tracks to take a closer look at the animals hiding behind some of the bushes. Slowly, she realised that the birds were starting to stop singing and that the night was becoming gradually more silent. She clicked her heals against the floor as she walked, deciding to drag her feet as she did as a child. She giggled to herself as she remembered her father chastising her harshly and then conceding defeat and lifting her up onto his shoulders. She felt so high that she would reach out to touch the clouds but somehow she could never quite reach. He told her that one day he would give her the clouds so that she could sleep on them as she grew. She believed him. He also told her that he would send her an angel of music. She believed him then and she sometimes even believed him now.

She nudged a brick into the grass with her toe as she continued her walk and lifted her hand up the smooth her hair from around her face. The night was moving in around her and the moon ahead was a pearl sewn on to a velvet sky. Ahead the park became slightly wooded and she headed for it, hoping to find a rabbit or fox coming out for their nightly stroll. She stepped in and the shadows were blacker and suddenly she began to feel uneasy.

On she walked through the woodland and the further into the darkness she got the worse she felt. Her stomach flipped and her heart beat rapidly and she found her feet moving much faster than her mind. As she progressed, she lost more and more of the light and her body began to ache, she felt sweat rolling down the centre of her back and she swallowed hard. She could barely see any moon through the top of the trees and she certainly could not see the exit at the other end.

The trees reached in to touch her and every sound made her heart stop and then suddenly pound hard in her chest, making her lift her hand to make sure that it had stayed there. Snap. She spun around to where she had heard the sound and was greeted with nothing but black air. She circled slowly and looked back ahead but now she could not remember which way was forward and which was back. Her pulse raced. She carried on in the direction she thought, trying to remain composed but walking quicker. Snap. Her hand flew to her heart and she turned on her heals again, nothing.

She walked on, unrelenting, determined to find the street, it couldn't be far now surely. Could it? She felt like she had been walking forever, her feet stung and she so wanted to stop and sit but… snap… againshe looked behind her, this time over her shoulder rather than turning. She refused to stop walking.

Snap!

Her heart thudded hard once more before her feet began to move faster and finally she was running. Hard. Bolting forward, anywhere but towards that sounds. She continued, feet moving over the ground but she made the mistake of looking down and she lost her balance tumbling to the floor.

It was a few moments before a hand reached down and plucked her from the floor and her relief was soon marred by fear when she saw the face in front of her.

'Philippe, thank you,' she said, uneasily. He smiled weakly and she noticed his similarity to a royal weasel.

'Christine,' he said curtly. 'What are you doing out at this time?'

'I…' she began and then swallowed hard, starting to back away. 'I was just taking a walk.'

'Alone?' He asked, but did not wait for a reply. 'Who have you met?'

'No one, Philippe, really.' She said and felt a bead of sweat forming on her brow.

'One of your callers?' he snarled.

'I have no callers,' she felt tears pricking her eyes. 'Please…'

'Liar,' he growled stepping towards her. He took her hands in his. Gripping her wrists firmly, she struggled to free herself. He was too powerful and he threw her back to the floor. She landed hard on her back and yelped. 'Whore.'

'No,' she croaked, trying to lift herself up. Philippe, stepped so that he was standing over her. She looked up at him, fear covering her face.

'I haven't told Raoul about the other day,' he said menacingly.

'I appreciate that but…' she began and he hissed at her to shut up.

'I should,' he said. 'But then… I suppose, I might not.'

Christine swallowed again and she felt like her heart was thudding against her ribs. Again she tried to push herself up and he pushed her back down with his foot. He knelt down where he stood, a knee either side of her waist, she was pinned and the horror of what was happening hit her like a bolt of lightening.

'We can come to an arrangement,' he said with a smirk as he reached out for her throat gripping it with his hand as his other ran down the front of her body.

She couldn't scream, she could barely breath. Panic finally froze her kicking. She felt him touching her and tried to remove herself from him, he was speaking and she tried not to hear. She tried not to think. His hands were on her buttons, undoing them, she gagged but his hand pressed harder onto her throat. And then…

He stopped.

She slowly opened her eyes to see Philippe kneeling totally still, he was breathing, looking down at her but not moving or trying to undress her. It wasn't until he spoke that she knew he was there.

'If you touch her again I will push this through your back,'