Author's Note: I'm starting to get more feedback, which is exciting! Thank you to my faithful readers the Mouse in the Opera House and scarletghost13 for reviewing again, and also I'd like to thank my new reviewers Kooriskune and Dreamergirl02! Hopefully you all will enjoy this chapter:)

Now, quick, child, run! Run away, hide! In the woods! Anywhere! Never come back! Now go! Go! Run! Run! Hide!

Now, on with the story...

Christine's name traveled throughout the small chapel, echoing off the damp stone walls as her friend searched desperately for her. Meanwhile, Christine glanced up from the portrait of her father to find Meg staring at her, eyes wide with fear.

Christine stood up immediately and rushed over to her friend's side. "Whatever is the matter, Meg?" Christine asked, placing a small hand on the dancer's shoulders.

Meg instantly snapped out of whatever trance she had fell into and peered into Christine's eyes helplessly, "Oh, Christine, they are coming! She said...she said she was going to kill you!" Meg began to sob into Christine's dress.

"Who, Meg? Who is out to...to kill me?" Christine asked bewildered and frightened herself. Surely the girl just had a simple nightmare?

"Christine, you must get out of here! Run, as fast as you can! Oh, what am I going to tell mère?"

"I...I don't understand. Is this some sort of trick? Who do you speak of, Meg?" Christine's patience was beginning to run short, but she continued to press her friend for answers.

"Carlotta! I...I heard Carlotta speaking with male voices about the murder...the murder she wanted performed of...of Christine Daae...you!" Meg began to bury her head once again into Christine's dress to hide her sobs.

Christine gasped with fright. Never had she seen Meg so distraught. This must be serious indeed to bring such emotions out of usually such a happy, cheerful young girl. "But what am I to do?" Christine asked, helplessly.

Meg gulped loudly, raising her head for her tear stained eyes to meet Christine's. "Whatever we do, we must hurry!"

Christine nodded, still a little confused and unsure about the whole situation. "We'll make our way to my dressing room and plan there. We shouldn't discuss such things inside a chapel." Christine took her hand within Meg's and the two girls sprinted off.

"Meg Giry! Where in God's name do you think you are running off to now?" An all too familiar voice sounded throughout the hallway and met the girls' ears, causing them to flinch. "And, is that Christine? Didn't I tell you two dancing rehearsals were being held today?" The cold face of Madame Giry loomed over them as she gave them a look that would make the Opera Ghost himself quiver where he stood.

Meg gave Christine a fleating glance, a look in her eyes telling Christine to carry on and she would meet her the rest of the way, before she turned back towards her mother. "Yes, mère. I am sorry I disobeyed you again." Meg bowed her head in shame and stood beside her mother.

"I trust you are coming along as well, Christine?" Madame Giry raised an eyebrow and tapped a hurried foot.

"Why, yes...yes I am," Christine said nervously. "Just after I fetch my ballet shoes in my room. I'm sorry, Madame Giry, I was just paying a visit to my father and must have lost track of the time." Christine gave the woman a weak smile, hoping that her story was believable.

"Well, that still doesn't explain why little Meg was with you. I will let you off the hook for now, but you two best not make a habit out of such nonsense. I do not want to see this happen again." Madame Giry sighed, rubbing her temples. "Now, come along, my daughter. The other girls are waiting for us. I couldn't begin to teach them the next part of the routine with our Prima Ballerina missing!"

Their voices faded, as Madame Giry and Meg left Christine standing in the hallway. Christine turned on her heel and continued the rest of the way to her dressing room alone.

When she reached the familiar door, she pushed it slightly open and stepped inside, closing the door gently behind her. Now what am I going to do? Christine pondered, throwing her hands up in the air. I do not even know if Meg's wild story is true. Who knows when she will be getting back! I'm standing in my dressing room like a useless fool. Christine began to rummage around looking for her ballet shoes. I might as well continue my day as normal. Although she trusted her friend with her life, she didn't know how to believe Meg's story. It just seemed so...out of the ordinary.

When Christine turned to go, however, something out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. Her heartbeat began to quicken as she realized what she was staring at. A red rose laid delicately on the floor in front of her mirror, with the notorious black ribbon tied around the stem. Ah, my secret admirer has returned, Christine smiled at the thought. She always appreciated these precious gifts, but to whom they were from remained a mystery, although Christine secretly believed they belonged to her Angel of Music. Whenever her singing lessons with him seemed to go better than usual, these flowers would show up more frequently. She wanted to thank her angel in person for his meaningful gifts, but she would feel so silly if they ended up not from him. Well, whoever is my admirer, hopefully I will meet them soon.

Christine sighed and walked quietly over to the red rose, picking it up and running a finger along the silk ribbon.

Suddenly, the lit candles in the room slowly began to blow out and she was left crouched on the floor in developing darkness. Her heartbeat began to quicken still, for this was the way her Angel of Music always visited her with his melodious voice. But instead of a greeting, the remaining of the lit candles were blown out and she was left feeling rather uncomfortable. Funny, he never has left me in complete darkness before.

But she wasn't in complete darkness, she realized. A slither of light was coming from...her mirror. What is this? she thought to herself, as she stood up slowly and approached the gigantic mirror that always hung on her wall. She wrapped slender fingers around the crack in the mirror and slid the rest aside, revealing a tunnel full of lit candleobras lining the walls. Christine gasped in awe and took a step inside. How long had this been here? She was completely oblivious to this new place until now, although the crack was never there for her to discover either.

Voices outside her door caused Christine to jump in alarm and drop her ballet shoes and the rose she still held in her hands. Male voices. Christine felt sick as she heard one of the men murmur her name and the full force of Meg's little tale hit her. Christine turned back towards the mysterious, yet dangerous looking tunnel before her. The doorknob to her dressing room began to shake, as if someone was attempting to get inside. She heard one man swear after realizing the door was locked. That's strange, I don't ever remember locking my door...

That's when she realized what must be done. Christine slid the mirror back closed all the way and again peered down the long and luminous tunnel. This has to take me somewhere better than what I am leaving behind...

She had run for what seemed like hours. The tunnel had begun to grow strangely dark and the air was thick, making it hard to breathe. Not a glimmer of life could be seen or heard. Stopping only briefly to rest, she would not allow herself to think as she leaned heavily against the stone wall. The chill in the air was palpable. Her breath rose up in a ghostly vapor. Down here it felt as if winter was approaching and would soon blanket the world in its cold white shroud.

But she had to keep going. She could not stop. Not knowing where she was going or what she was looking for, Christine had merely run on instinct. She had plunged deep into the tunnels and to the best of her knowledge, had traveled in the right direction. With only the dim candlelight as her guide, Christine had managed to travel miles into the impenetrable labyrinth.

She sobbed aloud as she ran. What was she going to do? Finally, the running and fatigue were getting the best of her, and she felt her legs buckle and she fell to the floor.

"Father," she whispered to herself, "Please help me. I'm so cold and it is so dark. I'm
afraid."

She hung her head and wept in the dark. All she could see, beyond the shadows of the haunted hallway before her, was the shimmer of her dress in what little light had managed to illuminate off the torches.

The cold was causing her whole body to shake. She remembered warmer times. She remembered sitting in front of a roaring fire while her father would tell her of her Angel of Music. Her face, softened by the light of the fire, felt so warm that she felt a smile tugging at her lips. She remembered his song and felt her frozen lips begin to move as the words slipped from her mouth.

But the song ended sooner than it came, and she felt the bitterness of her situation sink in. She had struggled forever to try and escape the terrifying place she found herself in now, but it was no use. She did not have the strength or ability to continue any longer. She was numb and stiff and she felt too helpless or vulnerable to do anything.

"Where is my angel, Papa?" she cried softly, "Where is my angel?"

A rustle sounded. She swung her head up and glanced around in the darkness, but to no avail. The shadows overpowered the small torches and obscured her vision. The tunnel blurred together into an impenetrable darkness. She whimpered softly, afraid of what might be lurking beyond her vision. Then her eyes caught movement among the shadows. Should she stay still and quiet? She was so cold that she did not care anymore. If there was a chance of freeing herself, she had to take it. But her mind was starting to slip into an impending sleep. Her thoughts began to swirl together.

"Who...who's there?" she called out, her voice falling from trembling lips.

A dark shadow suddenly loomed before her. She could tell, because the faint fire above was extinguished from her view. All she could see now were two glowing eyes. Almost like an animals, but aware and very intelligent. She tried to scream, but the sound that came from her throat was hoarse.

"Father, I'm scared," she cried out in her delirium. "Please send your angel to me. I...I don't want to die."

An arm slipped beneath her weakened body as she fell and lifted her from the wet stone floor. The last thing she could remember, before falling into unconsciousness, was being gathered up into someone's arms and feeling the warmth of a body against her cheek. She felt a heavy cloak being drawn around her before sleep finally claimed her.

Author's Note: This chapter, of course, is the part of Snow White where she is running through the forest and soon collaspes, being saved by a group of forest animals and taking her to the Seven Dwarves' home. I wasn't going to have forest animals save our Christine because, well, I don't think those types of things existed under the Opera House. ;) I'm sure we all know who saved her instead. And also where that certain someone is taking her. Until then, please review! I would love you forever!