A/N: I just want to thank everyone for your reviews! They are much appreciated. :)

Erik: The Vampire Hunter

Episode 6: An Evening Out

By: Elektra

Theater Populaire - Manager's Office

A tall lanky man with slicked back hair and a mustache stood in the center of the room. At his side, stood a shorter wider man, his graying hair messy from an earlier exertion, his mustache far bushier then his counterpart's. The latter shifted nervously, while the former seemed the epitome of calm as he held out a large leather-bound book and began to read.

"Nahmen Ah Tum Lekara ..." The taller man raised his voice, "Be gone from here, ye ghost of the past! Lest ye soul wander no more! Return to the Earth from whence you came, and rest ye at last!"

With a great flickering of lights, crash of thunder, and cold wind, the entity Gilles André had desperately chased into the office he shared with Richard Firmin finally disappeared.

Both men sunk down in their respective seats with a quiet sigh. After a moment of silence, André spoke, "So our ghost is gone then?"

"I believe so. I'm sure those silly ballet rats will inform us if It's not," Firmin answered.

"Tsk tsk, Richard," André replied, "Your future daughter-in-law may be one of our ballet rats soon enough,"

"Ach, Richard Jr. has yet to ask Meg to marry him. Don't get ahead of things here, André,"

"Perhaps she will be your stepdaughter first, then?" André asked with a smile and a raised eyebrow.

Firmin paled, and both men jumped as a high-pitched voice filled the room, "Monsieur Firmin, there's a call for you on line one."

Firmin pressed the intercom button, "Who is it?"

"Madame Giry, sir," came the reply.

André chuckled at that, "I'll leave you to your lady, Firmin." He then rose and headed out of the room.

Firmin picked up the phone with a smile, "Hello, Antoinette."

"Hello, Richard," came the reply, "Am I interrupting anything?"

"Oh not at all, my love. André and I were simply getting rid of a rather annoying ghost that has been haunting our theater these last few months. All seems well now."

"That's good," Giry answered, "I must ask a request of you. I'm asking all the Hunters, in fact," she explained, "There was an incident the other day. Erik came upon a hypnotist - one of them of course - and It seemed to have taken an interest in one of my students. When Erik asked what It's business was with this girl, It simply said someone was looking for her. Of course, he tried to get more information, but It was uncooperative. It only said the word daddy, and left it at that. The creature's name was Mageaik. Now Erik and I are guessing it was referring to It's sire, but we're unsure. If you can keep your ears open for any information, that would be greatly appreciated."

"Of course, my dear! I'll spread the word and ask my contacts if they've heard anything about it," a pause, then, "Antoinette, are you available this evening?"

He could hear the smile in her normally stern voice when she replied, "Yes, Richard, I'm always available to spend a lovely evening with you,"

Ravelle College - Christine's dorm room

Christine sat at her lap top, her eyes reading the email before her once again. There, written in red font, was a message that made her brow furrow.

Miss Daaé,

I request your presence
Please arrive at the usual place at 10pm
this evening

The Ghost

Christine put the email into her saved messages box and glanced up at the grate above her bed. She hadn't seen Erik for a few days now, but she was sure he had been lurking around. Every so often, she'd hear quiet shuffling through the vent over her bed. She found it slightly creepy, but she didn't try to confront him. She didn't want to find herself in those narrow metal tunnels again.

"Christine?" Meg asked when she saw her friend concentrating on the screen before her, "What's going on?"

"The ghost commands my presence again," she replied, "I can't figure out why, though, considering he's been avoiding me as much as possible."

"The ghost?" Meg repeated, then the realization hit her, "The campus ghost is Erik?" she let out a laugh, "Wait until the others hear about this."

"NO!" Christine snapped, "You can't tell ANYONE, Meg! Please? He has enough to worry about as it is," she looked away, "I'm sorry I said anything. I just thought you figured it out already."

"I guess I should have. I mean, the guy gives you lessons in the Arts building, and he lurks around here whenever he feels like it," Meg shook her head, then studied her friend, "You're really that worried about people finding out?" she asked. Christine nodded, "Ok, Chrissy. I won't tell. Promise."

"Not even Raoul," Christine insisted.

Meg opened her mouth to protest, but a stern look from Christine changed that, "Not even Raoul," she pouted.

Christine only hoped Meg would keep her word.

Le'Meiux Restaurant (that evening)

"Please, Megan, calm down," Giry said into the cell phone to her frantic daughter, "I'm sure RJ didn't mean it the way it came out," she assured her only child, "Well why don't you just call him and talk to him about it then. Perhaps he didn't realize it offended you," Giry offered. "Very well, dear. Good night now," she disconnected the call and turned to the man before her, "You should tell your son to hold his tongue once in a while, Richard."

Firmin sighed in the seat across from Giry, "Oh my. What did Richard Jr. do now?" he asked, "Sometimes RJ speaks before he thinks."

"Well, he made a comment about another girl in front of Meg," she replied. "Of course, the girl in question was an actress on a television show and therefore obviously not someone Meg really needs to be concerned about, but this was in the common room with several other students around," she said

Firmin smiled slightly, "Yes, RJ does have an eye for the ladies, but I assure you, Antoinette, he cares very much for Megan."

"I believe he needs to convince Megan a little more."

Before Firmin could respond, something out the window caught his attention a woman was being chased by two men. Two very fast men, "Antoinette," he nodded to the scene outside, the rest of the patrons obviously oblivious to it.

Giry pursed her lips, "I suppose we must do what we must do," she then told the waiter they had to step out for a moment but would be back, and that she would leave behind her purse for assurance.

Firmin and Giry quickly rushed outside and grabbed the two creatures before they could make a meal of the woman, who had now fallen to the ground sobbing.

The two Hunters were shoved aside by their quarry, "Check out the old geezers. They think they can take us," one started, the other snickered, cursing rather colourfully in response.

"Old?" Giry raised an eyebrow as she pulled her stake from the folds of her dress and chucked it at the first one's head as Firmin lunged after the second. The first dodged the weapon and tackled Giry.

Giry was nothing if not tough, however, and immediately shoved It off, grabbing her stake once more and dusting the target easily.

Firmin started punching the second one in the stomach, his fists then cuffing it about the head. It was obvious Firmin was currently lacking his weapon. In an effort to stop the assault, the second creature shoved Firmin hard to the ground. Giry immediately tossed Firmin her stake. He quickly caught it and jumped back to his feet, lunging once more at his quarry, weapon held high as it sunk neatly into the creature's chest, turning it to dust.

The two Hunters stood facing each other, both trying to catch their breaths, "Forget your stake again, Richard?" Giry asked disapprovingly.

Firmin offered a sheepish shrug, and a small smile, "I suppose, Antoinette, I am getting a little too old for this," he replied. When the two turned to tend to the woman who had been the victim of the two creatures, they noticed she was long gone.

"Oh well. I do not suppose anyone will believe her anyway," Giry replied, then grasped Firmin's outstretched hand as the two headed back into the restaurant to continue their meal in peace.

Neither could figure out, however, why their flushed faces and disheveled looks were garnering such odd smiles and winks from the wait staff and other patrons.

Ravelle College - Arts Building (Two hours later)

Christine hid under the window of the strings room nervously. She was early and was sure he wasn't there yet.

She waited, and finally heard the music from the room. He had obviously snuck in, as he seemed wont to do. Christine slowly raised herself to look in the window and saw the dark shadow over the piano. The window had been left open a crack and Christine slid her fingers underneath, pushed the glass up and quickly crawled through.

"I was unsure if you'd show up," came Erik's cold voice.

Christine spun to see Erik staring at her. She dusted herself off, "I came for my lesson. At least, that's why I thought you asked me here."

Erik shrugged, "I'm surprised you still want to be near me." He flicked on the overhead lights and sat on the piano bench.

Christine frowned, getting annoyed at his coldness, "I know you've been prowling around the ventilation tunnels watching me these last few days, and to be honest, it's starting to freak me out a little. You mind telling me what's going on?"

Erik answered her words by slamming his hands down hard on the piano keys, the discordant sounds echoing in the small room. Christine shrunk back. She had never seen him like this! Catching him unmasked, catching him fighting that… thing… had brought out the storm beneath the surface.

Erik closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He looked down at the piano, and began to play. At first, it was a harsh angry sound, but then slowly the music eased. It became gentle and rhythmic.

And then he sang. Not just any song, however, but the aria she had tried to sing for him a while ago, the one he claimed she sang without emotion, without passion. His voice, however, held such passionate emotion that Christine was almost on the verge of tears. Tenderness, sadness, heartbreak, loneliness. All these things filled her as Erik sang.

Christine sunk down on the chair beside her, mesmerized by the heavenly sound filling her ears. She closed her eyes, then parted her lips and joined his voice with her own, their sounds wrapping around each other like a soft blanket - or a lover's gentle arms.

When the song ended, Christine slowly turned back to him, only to see something in his eyes she had never seen before. It frightened and excited her at the same time.

"So," Erik finally spoke, his voice filled with hushed awe, "You are capable of feigning passion," he cocked his head slightly, "And why did you not you sing like that for Professor Gudicelli? When it actually mattered?"

Christine opened her mouth to respond, then closed it again. She really had no answer... except to say he wasn't there. She didn't know why, but she always seemed to sing better in his presence.

Christine shook her head and bit her lower lip nervously, "Erik," she began hesitantly, "I get the impression that you hate me for some reason."

"Hate you?" he repeated, "No, Miss Daaé. I don't think I could ever hate you," he then looked away, "But I'm afraid I may have dragged you into something you shouldn't have been dragged into."

"Does this have to do with that girl who followed me a few weeks ago?"

Erik clenched his jaw, the warmth gone from his voice, "I'd rather not talk about her."

"Is she a friend of yours?" Christine pressed on.

"Friend?" he snapped, "Laura can't make up her mind whether she wants to kill me or kiss me right now!"

Christine blinked, "Kiss you?" she asked quietly.

"Never mind, Miss Daaé," he said, "Laura is not quite right in the head."

"Oh, Erik! That was hardly complementary!" Laura spoke as she leaned into the window.

Erik swore under his breath, immediately going on guard and moving a little closer to Christine, "How are you going to torment me tonight, Laura?"

"Trust me, not everything I want to do with you will be torment," she gracefully slid through the window, "...provided you give me what I want."

"What is it you want?" Christine asked warily, looking back and forth between the two.

"Oh, hello little one," Laura began condescendingly, "Why don't you go play with your toys and let the adults talk, ok?" She then turned back to Erik, "I don't understand you, Erik. I'm offering you something no hot-blooded male would refuse!"

"Perhaps if you weren't planning to kill me afterwards," Erik muttered under his breath.

"Well at least you'll die happy!" Laura replied.

"Leave him alone!" Christine insisted angrily.

"Miss Daaé, this does not concern you!" Erik hissed.

"Oh, but maybe it should, Erik. She seems so very interested in you," Laura slowly turned to Christine, a cold smile on her lips, "So defensive of a man she knows nothing about," she shook her head with a mock sigh, "Silly naïve little thing! You have no idea who he is. What he does in the wee hours of the night when he's not busy composing his lovely music or teaching pretty girls to sing."

"Silence, Laura!" Erik ordered angrily.

"Oh please," Laura waved away his words, "She'll find out eventually if she keeps hanging around you. Hard to ignore those little wooden stakes you always keep in the pockets of your coat, or the smell of death on your clothes," she frowned, then turned back to Christine, "Really, little one - didn't you see him kill my scout a few weeks back?"

"I saw him save a girl's life!" Christine replied.

Laura laughed coldly, "Perhaps it's YOUR life that needs saving!"

In a flash of blond hair and pale skin, icy hands forced Christine against the wall, a pair of sharp fangs nipping at her throat. Christine cried out, a hand quickly going to the blood trickling down her neck.

"Oh Erik, you hit the jackpot here!" Laura began, "She's untouched, just like you!" Laura's laughter was cut off as a wooden stake just nearly missed her head.

"Care to test whether I will kill you or not?" Erik's voice was dark. Dangerous.

With an animalistic growl, Laura lunged at her attacker. Christine eyes went wide as she slid to the ground, watching two blurs struggling with one another.

Laura had the advantage, having knocked the air out of Erik with her sudden tackle, but his strong fingers quickly wrapped around her throat, shoving her off and pinning her to the ground beneath him as he held another stake ready, "I was informed that someone was looking for Miss Daaé. Who was it?" he demanded.

"I have no idea what you're talking about!" Laura replied, then dug her long nails into his chest, throwing him off with inhuman force as she leapt to her feet, coldness in her tone, "Quick to protect an innocent maiden, though, aren't you?"

Erik grunted as he came at her, crushing the female against the piano, still clutching his weapon. She freed herself from his grasp before the stake could impale her ample bosom. Laura's eyes went wide, her breath coming in quick gasps. If he knew what his passionate anger was doing to her, he'd be shocked... and appalled

She seemed to be having quite the opposite affect on him, however. Erik truly wanted to kill her!

"Touch Miss Daaé again, and all the guilt that makes me hesitate now will be gone!" He growled dangerously as he grasped Laura's golden hair and dragged her to the window. He deposited her quite ungracefully outside, and slammed the glass down with a bang.

Having rid himself of the trash, Erik immediately raced to Christine's side, his hair mussed, his clothing disheveled. She could see a tear in his shirt, a violent slash of red against the pale skin of his chest.

His masked face hovering over her was the last thing she remembered before she passed out.

DeChagny Residence

Raoul dialed Christine's cell phone once again. She had not answered it earlier today and had yet to return his message.

"Hello? Christine Daaé's cell," that voice was most certainly not Christine's.

"Meg?" Raoul asked, "Where's Chrissy?"

"At her vocal lesson" Meg replied. "Or... at least, trying to have a vocal lesson. Erik's been a little grumpy about that lately,"

A pause, "Erik?" Raoul asked, "Her employer is the one giving her lessons?"

Meg was silent for a moment, "Um... she... didn't tell you?"

Raoul frowned, "No, she didn't. Why is she taking lessons from her boss?"

"He's not her boss... I mean... not really," she stammered, "You know, maybe Christine should explain,"

"Well, considering I can't get a hold of Christine, perhaps you should explain."

"I knew I should have just let the phone ring," Meg muttered. She then took a deep breath, "Ok, here's what I understand - they have a barter thing going. He tutors her in vocal, she runs errands for him. It's all very simple."

Raoul's concern eased a little, "He must be a very talented old man," he joked lightly.

"Old?" Meg repeated, "But he's only-" she immediately stopped. "Uh, yeah," she continued quickly, "He's very talented. Gotta go, Raoul. I'll tell Chrissy you called. Bye."

Before Raoul could ask Meg about her sudden erratic behaviour, the phone went dead. He tried to call back, only to be sent straight to Christine's voice mail.

Raoul hung up, a frown on his lips - He was now starting to wonder about this multi-talented Erik.

Ashton Estate - an hour later

He almost did it!

Laura was surprised. Upset, even. For laying a hand on his precious little student, Erik had come so very close to killing her! The look in his eyes when she jumped at him were no longer the eyes of the guilt ridden man she had taunted several nights ago, but the eyes of a Hunter out to destroy his Quarry.

His amber eyes had turned dark. Cold. Dangerous. And it excited Laura in ways she couldn't explain.

She had meant to kill him tonight, truly... but hideous as Erik was, there was something about him that whet her morbid appetite. If he hadn't tossed her out the window to tend to that little slip of a girl, she would have gladly shown him how much he affected her.

Laura sat before her mirror, a translucent reflection looking back at her. She wanted him dead... but first, she just wanted him. Alive and well. In many different ways...

Laura sighed at her reflection, "Shame on you, Erik. You DO like to make things difficult for a girl, don't you?"

Erik's room

Christine slowly woke to find herself on a comfortable bed, a light blanket tucked around her. She pushed herself up on her elbows to see a very pregnant cream-coloured cat curled up on blankets and pillows in the far left corner.

Erik, on the other hand, sat near a candle, whittling away at a piece of wood and allowing the scraps to fall neatly into a box at his feet. She would have questioned his intelligence at having a candle so close to wood, but he seemed used to it.

Erik turned to Christine, golden eyes practically glowing beneath the black mask, "How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Ok... I think," she put a hand to her neck and felt the gauze bandage taped there, "What happened?"

"She tasted you," he replied, almost as if such a thing were normal everyday behaviour. "She didn't take enough to hurt you. I think it was more the shock that caused you to pass out,"

Christine didn't really know what to say to that, "Um... where are we?" she asked instead.

"A haunted cellar," he offered lightly, then grew a bit more serious, "An abandoned room in the basement of your Residence," he explained. "Few people know about it. The students certainly don't come down here if they can help it. There are ghosts lurking around, you know,"

Christine's eyes darted around the room. On the cluttered desk beside Erik, she could make out a monkey music box, various blueprints, a laptop, and a television/DVD player. She looked off to her right and saw another table covered with colourful paintings, detailed writings, and advanced musical compositions, "Are those all yours?" she asked.

He glanced over at the mess she indicated, "I get bored easily," he replied, "I need to keep myself occupied," he nodded to the shelf beside her, bringing her attention to the thick books that lined it.

She squinted in the dim candlelight and saw poetry, architecture, art, music, and various leather-bound novels that she had always bought the Cliff-notes for back in high school, lacking any patience to actually finish them.

"My God!" she gasped as her eyes strayed back to Erik, "Laura wasn't kidding when she said you were a genius."

"I'd hardly call myself that. I think she was taunting me more then making a factual statement." He turned away, unable to look at the girl before him. "I'm sorry you got involved in this, Miss Daaé. I never meant for it to happen." He looked down at the stake in his hands, his voice soft, "I never meant for a lot of things to happen."

She slid off the bed and walked over to him, crouching down beside his chair as she ran a hand through the wood shavings in the box, "And exactly what IS it I'm involved with?"

"A ghost from my past. A woman who's death I inadvertently caused," he said no more.

Christine looked up at him, "That girl looked pretty alive to me."

"Only in body. Her soul is long gone," he explained.

Christine furrowed her brow, "You make it sound like she's a-" she stopped, her eyes coming to the sharpened piece of wood in his hand, realizing what, exactly, she had witnessed on the night of the Masquerade.

"My god..." she gasped, losing her balance and falling flat on her backside. Christine straightened herself up, and spoke once she found her dignity again, "How... how did you cause her death?"

"We were in high school together," he began, "She wanted to see my face..." he stopped.

"And?" Christine pressed.

"And... she got her wish," he answered, then his voice grew cold, "Turns out the poor girl was so overwhelmed by the sight of my angelic good-looks that she ran head first into a car," he met Christine's eyes and saw she was not amused with his morbid humour. In fact, she looked a little disturbed by it.

He glanced back at the stake, the coldness fading, "I thought she was still in a coma."

Christine did not need to ask any more. Laura had woken up, and was quite different from the girl he knew.

Christine then noticed the tear in his shirt, and remembered that she hadn't been the only one hurt tonight, "Erik, you were bleeding..."

"I'm fine."

"Let me see," she insisted.

"I told you I'm fine," he snapped angrily.

"Erik," Christine's voice was soft, though perhaps a little shaky at his sudden mood swing, "You are allowed to let other people worry about you once in a while."

He spoke icily, "Oh yes. So many have worried for my well-being!"

Christine spoke nervously, "Well, I'm sure your mother has-"

"NEVER speak of my mother!" he hissed.

One look at the raw anger in Erik's eyes caused Christine to jump to her feet and back away, "I... I'm sorry, Erik! I only... only want to help!"

Erik closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm his temper.

With a swift flick of his wrist, he impaled his stake in the dart board hanging a few feet across from him, the sharpened wood sinking into the bulls eye and remaining there.

Yes, Christine was only trying to help. She knew nothing of his past.

"Very well..." Erik opened his eyes and glanced at her, "Look at it. Then I'll take you back to your room," He tugged off his ruined shirt and revealed the red-stained gauze he had placed on his injury. Christine stepped towards him again, tentatively reaching a hand out. He quickly caught her wrist before she made contact, "I already stitched myself up," he informed her.

"You... stitched yourself?" she looked up at him with obvious surprise, then shook her head, "Where are your first aid supplies?" she demanded. He tapped his foot against the bottom drawer of the desk, and Christine knelt down and quickly opened it, pulling out what she needed.

"May I?" she asked as she indicated the dirty gauze. He reluctantly nodded as he sat down once again. Christine carefully removed the gauze from his chest and stared at the perfect black stitches that closed his injury, "You must have an incredibly high threshold for pain," she spoke in wonderment, not seeing Erik flinch as she put an antiseptic-soaked cotton ball against his chest.

"I've had a lot of experience nursing my own wounds. It's a must in my life," he answered, then looked away from her. She was so close to him now. He could feel the heat radiating off her body, feel the gentleness of her touch as she pat the gauze down, feel the brush of her long silky hair against his bare arms...

Erik suddenly stood up and flicked the light on, quickly preventing his thoughts from wandering where they shouldn't, "I'll take you back to your dorm," he held a hand to her, and Christine took it as he helped her to her feet.

Erik turned to blow out the candle on his desk, and her eyes fell to his bare back. Faded scars criss-crossed his pale skin. They looked like welts, as if he had been whipped at some point. She slowly went up to him and traced one of the scars with her fingertips.

Erik spun around to face her, "DON'T!"

"I'm sorry!" Christine replied taking a startled step back, "Did it hurt?"

Erik swore under his breath. Hurt? No. But just the sensation of her gentle touch was enough to send his blood racing. "The physical scars are nothing now," he replied, masking his true emotions almost as well as the black leather masked his face.

"Who did this?" Christine demanded, her voice thick with outrage.

"That's not important," he responded ever so calmly.

Erik grabbed a clean shirt from his dresser and slipped his arms into it. Christine grabbed his hands before he could tend to the buttons, her concern apparent as she met his eyes, "Who hurt you, Erik?"

He tugged his hands out of her grasp, "People I'll never see again. Now come - I'll take you to your room before your friend wonders where you are. It's late."

"No."

He blinked at that, "Pardon?"

"I said NO. I'm worried about you."

"Listen, Miss Daaé-" his voice caught in his throat as the brunette suddenly slid her arms around his waist.

Erik was quite sure he forgot to breathe.

Her warmth. Her softness. Her sweet scent. All wrapped up in one thing... one thing not even his own mother could bring herself to give him.

A hug.

END OF EPISODE SIX