A/N: Special thanks to misscemo for Chapter 9's title suggestion! Sorry it took so long for an update, but I've been busy with Physics homework. I'm done for now…There's a little of Erik in this chapter and now we're at the point where he will make some more appearances (ghostly, of course). And Raoul will take the big step in asking Christine out soon! Thank you to my lovely reviewers and my beta Megan. I hope many of you will also go and check out my new story, A Deadly Obsession. Thanks and don't forget to review!

Chapter 10- Meg Finds Out

She couldn't help it. There was no explanation as to why she was there, but she was.

Christine stood in front of the wooden door where Cat Giovanni was discovered. She told herself to forget the grotesque image, but she couldn't. Whenever her eyes closed, she could see Cat floating down the hall and into this room while someone reached out for her throat…

Swallowing thickly, she opened the door and took a few tentative steps inside.

The pungent smell of dust balls and ancient decay stung her nostrils, practically choking her. The room was cleaned when the police searched through it, but now it returned back to its own dismal state of stillness. She averted any attention away from the mirror. She didn't want to think about Cat while she was in here.

Christine walked forward, her hand outstretched to wipe off the new collection of dust settling on the antique vanity. Cobwebs decorated the mirrors while the glass was covered in dust.

She pulled out the little chair tucked in and after brushing off the dust she sank into the cushion. Brown eyes flicking upwards, her reflection was foggy and distorted, but a quick swipe with her hand brought out the nearly perfect vision. She smiled to herself as she could almost hear the people passing by to and fro, preparing for a grand gala.

Shaking her head, Christine got up and moved around. When she and Meg were in here, she didn't have much of a chance to notice the appearance and articles throughout. The original color was still intact with a few new furnishings added after the restoration. Amazingly, the room didn't seem to come in contact with the horrendous fire that engulfed the theatre long ago. It was untouchable.

Fighting back a shiver, Christine took in the majestic room with a feeling of belonging. It was so beautiful from deep ruby red on the ceiling and wall, the torn flowery wallpaper taking over the bottom parts. Too bad it had to go to waste. Christine was sure if it were in use she would love to have it.

She could envision the costumes off to the side, flowers and gifts from adoring fans adorning every space and corner, the walls draped with paintings and posters. It would be so full of life.

She wondered what Christine Daae was like. What was she like as a person? Was she the girl next door or the local shrew? Would she run in here to escape from the pressures of her affair with the Phantom? Would the Phantom even be in here, waiting for her?

I wonder if there's a portrait lying about, Christine thought as she scanned the room. It would be respectable to the former who once occupied this room to have their picture left for others to admire and idolize. She turned towards the vanity to find an object sticking out from behind. Bingo.

She went over and pulled the expanse-covered bulk out. It was heavy but Christine managed to waddle it over to the settee on the other side of the room. Taking a deep breath, she heaved the painting on top and laid it against the back. She uncovered the bottom part to which was a dark mahogany frame with a small silver plaque in the middle. Christine kneeled down and carefully wiped the dust casing it. The tiny cursive script showed the letters D-A-A-E.

"Raoul's great-great grandmother," she half whispered, half aloud. Just by staring at the plaque, queasiness began to build up. "She was probably the Phantom's lover," Christine mused. Curiosity started to make its appearance and she desperately needed to see her face.

With speed and caution, Christine tugged the tarp off and flung it to the floor. Dust exploded into her face, making Christine cough excessively as she swatted the floating particles away. Now she was able to take a good look at her.

For what she could make out, the figure had a slim figure, dressed in a pale pink dress sitting on a bench. The face, however, she couldn't see. Christine leaned closer and as her eyes began to focus, a low moan came from behind.

Startled, Christine jumped back and slowly turned her head over her shoulder. Nothing moved and there was nobody near.

Relaxing and chuckling anxiously at her silly behavior, Christine was about to study the portrait once more until a light flickering grabbed her attention. It was coming from the life-size mirror.

She rose, trembling in her legs, and with a bravery she never knew existed she went straight over to the mirror. The police must have not sealed it completely, as the same crack Christine discovered before was glowing. Bending down, she rested her nails in between the gap and set her palm on the glass. She shook. The surface of the glass was ice cold.

Staying, another distant memory, long forgotten reared its ugly head—

The brand-new extravagant chandelier had fell to its doom. She scrambled to the stage, searching for her beloved Voice among the wounded and dead.

No! No! she thought frantically. Please! My Angel, please be alive!

She gave up, realizing how fruitless it would be to look for a body she didn't even know looked like. Tears clung to her eyelashes as she fled to her haven—her dressing room. There was hope in her naïve and innocent heart that her Angel would be safe, and waiting for her to guide her from this horrible tragedy.

She collapsed onto the floor, crying and praying for the Voice to come and take her away.

"My Angel!" she wailed. "Come to me please!"

As if hearing her despondent plea, the pitiful strings of The Resurrection of Lazarus began to pour through the walls and the voice! The heavenly voice she depended on for shelter cried out to her:

"Come! And believe in me!"

Her tears stopped cascading down her pink cheeks, and she slowly stood, arms outstretched, her mouth parted in awe.

"Come to me! My Angel of Music, come!"

He called to her, as the violin seemed to fill the room, its musical spell taking over her. Entranced, she began moving towards the spot where the music was… closer… closer to the mirror. Closer she came to the Voice, her Angel… closer… closer to the darkness that waited…

Christine pushed herself away from the mirror, her chest rising excessively as the memory vividly replayed in her head. Chandelier… voice… Angel of Music…

She shook her head furiously; hoping that alone would force the unwanted vision to go away. Her hands were slightly quivering, her ears echoing the haunting melody. That had been too real for comfort. It was almost like she was there. Actually there as the voice beckoned for her.

"You're being silly," she whispered. "No way a vision could be that true."

Christine…

Her head jerked up towards the mirror, her pulse racing. That voice! It was the one from her dreams! And it sounded like…

Christine, come to me…

Christine stood on shaky legs and as she took a step forward, she stopped and pulled back. What was she doing? Was she going to go to some disembodied voice? For all she knew, this could be another vision that she hadn't awakened from. That had to be it. It had to.

Except the room's temperature had dropped to below freezing. And that had never happened before.

Christine…. come…

The voice snapped her out of her thoughts. No… she couldn't. She mustn't. Yet, the voice was so… alluring. How could she resist something so powerful? So dark and mysterious?

The cold was no longer bothering her, as heat rushed through her veins, pooling at very core. She moved once, practically feeling the warm sensations vibrating from the sheet of glass. Surely it wouldn't hurt to obey? She took another step, a baby one, her hand held up to reach for the invisible being… until…

Raoul.

A brief image of the owner flashed through her eyes, the force she needed to stop her from going further. His kind blue eyes, his flaxen hair, and his smile! That husky and sensuous voice that rolls her name off his tongue… No. She can't, she wouldn't.

Come…

"No," Christine said firmly. "No!"

An agonizing scream came through, rattling the walls and blowing her eardrums, from the refusal as she covered her ears, wincing.

The light that had been flickering from behind blew out, the screaming stopped, and everything was silent.

Breathing hard, Christine lowered her hands and nervously stared at the mirror. Whatever it was was gone. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath in relief. Thank God…

Crack!

Christine's eyes popped open as jagged zigzag lines grew steadily fast on the glass. Her feet remained rooted, paralyzed in fear as the cracks met at the center point. Then nothing. Silence.

Christine let out a soft sigh…

The glass shattered, the sharps ends targeting towards the brunette, reflecting her petrified expression as a blood-curdling scream flew from her lips…

"Christine! Wake up!"

Reality came crashing down in tidal waves as her eyes flew open, gasping for air. Disoriented, she frantically twisted her head around, her thoughts racing. Where am I? Oh God where am I?

"Christine!"

She was roughly hoisted up by her shoulders, gaping into Meg's scared blue eyes.

"Meg?" Christine asked in broken whisper.

"Oh God!" Meg cried, holding her tightly. "I heard you screaming… and… and I tried to wake you up and you weren't moving hardly… and I was so scared! You kept screaming 'No' and oh damn I didn't know what to do!" The blonde sobbed, continuing to hug her fiercely.

Her head foggy, and her eyes glazed over in a daze, it took a moment for her mind to work properly. She was in the dressing room still. Christine Daae's dressing room… and Meg was there, squeezing the life out of her. Clearing her throat, Christine found her arms, hands, and legs numb and if Meg hadn't been holding her, no doubt she would have been a puddle on the floor. Eventually, she saw the mirror and cried in surprise.

The glass was smooth, no cracks and no opening to the secret passageway was visible. What the…? She thought, and her eyes widened when the hefty portrait she had laid on the settee wasn't there. Twice she closed her eyes and opened them, almost hoping her mind was playing a trick on her and it was there. But it wasn't as her body shuddered involuntary.

Suddenly, Meg pushed her aside, the worried look now replaced with anger. "Why in Hell are you doing in here! Have you lost your bloody mind?"

"I…um…" Her mouth couldn't form the words.

"Out with it!" Meg shouted her crystal blue irises now darkened in a stormy fury. "You shouldn't be here after everything that has happened! And what were you doing? Were you trying to give me a heart attack, cuz I was this damn close!"

"Meg I'm sor—"

"Always sorry Christine, huh?" Meg interrupted sardonically. "Let me tell you, this isn't funny! You better give a good explanation for this and none of the 'I don't know' crap understand? I'm tired of that excuse. There is something going on and you know it!"

Christine bit her lower lip hard, trying not to let the tears well up. Meg was right. She deserved to know the truth, honestly she did, after all the kindness she had given to her and the blossoming friendship they made. Yet she couldn't bring herself to. Why couldn't she just tell the truth and be done with it?

At her silence, Meg scowled and turned away from her, taking a few steps. She stopped and coldly said, "Obviously you're hiding it Christine, why I don't know, and probably will never know."

Before she could walk out, Christine ran over, grabbing the agitated girl's shoulder. "Meg wait!"

Sighing in frustration, Meg turned and crossed her arms. "What?"

Tears overflowed Christine's brown eyes and she didn't have the strength to prevent them. "I-I'll tell you Meg. But try to understand why I kept this to myself." Christine nervously glanced around, the hairs standing on ends on the back of her neck. If she didn't know better, she could have sworn she was being watched…

"Not here," Christine whispered, "Anywhere but here. It's not safe, at the moment."

Meg's stern features began to wash away with a concern curiosity. But at Christine's strange request, her blonde eyebrow rose up her forehead. "All right. But it better be good than 'I don't know'."

xxXXxx

"And just then when you woke me I was experiencing another memory, but also at the same time a surreal dream. In both I was being called by a voice, a dark sensuous voice. It was… breathtaking and beautiful. I was helpless and I couldn't control myself as I went towards the source, the mirror. Yet somehow I was able to gain some sense to pull back before it was too late."

Meg sat back on the couch with an amazed expression. "Damn."

"Then the mirror was cracking and exploded. The pieces would have killed me if you haven't showed up when you did," Christine finished with a thankful grin. "I guess after everything I owe you this. But now do you see why I didn't tell anyone?"

Meg nodded accordingly, despite the questions lingering in her eyes. Christine knew Meg wanted to know more, but that's all she knew. There was nothing else to explain. Why she was having these dreams, a superior force could answer. Until then there were only unspoken questions.

"Wow… Christine… I mean wow," Meg said, shaking her mixed curls. "If I didn't know you were speaking the truth, I would have thought this was some bizarre Stephen King book."

"So I've heard," the brunette replied, good-naturedly, lightening the mood. Becoming solemn, Christine eyed her warily. "Now this is never to be spoken to anyone. Not one living soul."

"You have my word!" Meg promised, crossing her heart. "Something like this I can see why you would want it to be kept private. Don't worry. No one will ever know, not from me."

"Good." Relief swept over her and for the second time, Christine could feel that crushing weight being lifted off her chest again. She beamed and laughed heartily. "You have no idea how wonderful this feels!"

"I think I have a pretty good idea." Meg winked, laughing herself. "But I'm glad you now confided in me. I would hate to see you suffering alone with this burden."

"Heather knew. And that's only because like you, she caught me stuck in one. I don't really remember the exact detail of it, but all I know it was horrifying that I ended up screaming as well."

"I'm sorry." There was true sincerity in her tone that made Christine smile softly. "Me too. But it's my own Hell I have to deal with for the time being. And who knows? Maybe this will go away…"

"What if it doesn't?" Meg asked. "Think about it. Doesn't it seem like of odd that you been having these past memories as soon as you arrived here? Are you sure you had no relatives from France?"

"Positive," Christine answered firmly.

"Then… oh no." The color from Meg's face drained away.

Panic gripped the brunette at the sudden silence. "What?"

"Christine…" Meg flapped her hands wildly about. "The voice! It makes sense!"

"What does?" she asked stupidly.

"The Phantom! From the way you described it to me, it sounds like Maman's stories about Christine Daae. She, too, heard a voice that was so beautiful it was almost… ethereal."

Christine gulped. "Y-you don't think it has anything to do with me?"

"It adds up Christine. As much as I hate to admit this, but I think Jamie is right. He might exist!"

The girls shivered uncontrollably as an omnipotent chill settled around them.

xxXXxx

It was a warm evening and Raoul felt he was overdue for a jog.

Starting off with a brisk pace, he ran over to the Jardins de Tuileries taking in the lovely sight of the grounds in the starry night. The park was empty save for a few night joggers.

He went over to a bench and sat down to take a break. It never ceased to amaze him how the tranquility of it all made him forget the problems in his life. In all of Paris this was the only place he could think without anyone driving a knife down his throat. Time would stop and the world consisted of just him.

It was also a very romantic spot. This was where his father proposed to his mother and where Raoul would propose to his future bride. It seemed like ages when he and Cat walked down this very same path…

The memory of what should have been the happiest moment of his life turned up the opposite. After he had gotten down on one knee and asked for her hand, Cat came out with the flat response of "no" and why. It was over between them. She never wanted to be in a serious relationship and sorry that she led him on.

Shaking his head, Raoul forced himself to think of something else. And who else but Christine Dawson wheedled in, causing a smile to sprout on his lips.

She was something indeed. Christine possessed a soul and heart of goodness that was hard to come by in this day and age. And for all of it, he knew he could never find another quite like her. Though he was positive no woman could ever replace Christine in a man's life.

He thought more on what Adele said and in her own irritable way, knew she was right. He shouldn't sit around and mope over a woman who obviously had no intentions of a future with him and let that ruin a chance for happiness. Maybe he should take that leap of faith. He was a daring young man, his life was still out in front of him, so why not?

Leaning on the wooden back, Raoul grinned. If Christine should refuse him, then he would know where they stood and therefore couldn't regret it. It sounded simple enough, but Raoul was certain that if that was the case his heart would definitely break and who knows how long it would take for him to get over another rejection?

I have my theatre and friends. But that alone won't suffice to my dreams, he thought. But not asking because of his insecurity wouldn't be the way to go. No. And he won't regret it for the rest of his life like Adele said. After all, he was a bit of a daredevil.

Raoul jumped on his feet feeling more determine than ever. Yes he will cross the threshold and conquer his fears. He will do this and forget Cat. She wasn't the one and he shouldn't hold onto a ghost anymore.

He began running again; his head no longer clouded with self-doubt, but instead a vigorous joy of revelations.

xxXXxx

Fear struck the very core in her. Upon waking, she found herself tied to the bed, her bondages so tight that the circulation was cut off.

Terrified, she struggled with the bonds but it was no use. She was too weak and her captor made sure escape was impossible. How long had she been there? Hours… days? Time lost its meaning to her while stuck in this prison.

Hot tears coursed down her cheeks and inwardly cursed herself for allowing this. None of this would have happened if she had--

The door swung open and a dark figure silently stalked in.

Bang!

The only means to flee were gone once the door was shut and bolted behind.

She couldn't help it. Her sobs and pleas came out at once, but he heard none of it. His piercing gaze ravished the helpless state she was in, making her shudder with repulse, hatred, and appending dread of where this would lead too.

"My love," he breathed, as he sat on the bed, leaning forward to cup her breast…

"Monster," she spat, a courage she never showed until now appeared. She wriggled from his grasp, trying to get far away from his dirty hands. Yet those ties held in her place and the realization of her fears coming to surface overridden the brief act of bravery.

He chuckled deeply from within his chest, as he resumed in touching her. "Have no fear my pet. I'm not going to hurt you, you know I never will."

The weight from the mattress was gone and for a second relief flooded through her. It was short-lived.

The soft thud of his clothing falling to the floor echoed in her eardrums as the sickening feeling once more arose. No! No!

"One day you'll love me and he will be nothing but a memory," he cooed as the warm comfort of her gown was being stripped off of her.

"No," she whispered, again shrinking away as he began to cover her naked body with his own.

With his hands placed on either side of her head, his body pressed firmly into her, he held her look as he assaulted her petite form. "You're mine forever."

The sudden intense pain gripped her, choking the very life of her as she cried out in shame and disgust. Harder and faster he went, punishing her and her heart.

So this was how her life will be? A slave to his primal lust that was once a pure love now driven to the brinks of madness?

Forgive me please, my love! she prayed, as his weight crushed and suffocated her.

Later, she drifted off into the welcoming oblivion of darkness and emptiness. At least there she was safe and away from this horrid place and with Erik.

TBC…

Oooo... I wonder what might happen next. Don't forget to review!