I'm so happy everyone enjoyed the last chapter. This next one is a bit transitional, but chapter 16 will start the excitement that you're all waiting for. I have most of the story planned out now and am already excited about the finale.
No Erik appearances in this chapter, but he's still quite there. As always, I enjoy your feedback. It keeps me writing when I should be doing homework. :)
Please Read and Review!
For one horrifying moment, Christine thought that the blue eyes staring up at her were empty and lifeless. She shakily knelt down to the snow-covered earth, a feeling of relief surging through her as the eyes suddenly blinked. "Raoul?" she choked out, reaching out a hand to touch is cold cheek. "Oh God! What happened? What are you doing here?"
"Christine," he murmured, attempting to raise his head. "I thought...it...something was out here." Raoul looked around the dark cemetery for a moment, obviously disoriented. He then reached up and rubbed his face as if something were nipping at it.
"But what are you doing here?" she questioned. Christine could sense him watching-feel his displeasure and anger at her encounter. Still, she couldn't leave her old friend lying on the frigid ground in a graveyard.
"I came to see you," Raoul said softly, clasping onto her hand. "I thought maybe you wanted some company out here." He looked around again. "Something attacked me. God, my mouth is still burning from it."
"Attacked you?" She sighed and bit her lip. "You shouldn't even be here, Raoul. Do you need to go to a hospital? You're ice cold."
"Huh?" he asked, taken aback by her abruptness. "No. I'm fine now. But you shouldn't be out here either. I thought you said someone was coming with you."
"Someone is with me," Christine replied after a moment. She shook her head and quickly withdrew her hand from his. With every passing second, her instructor's fury grew. "Look, Raoul. I need to go now. Are you sure you're okay? I could call an ambulance."
"I'm fine," he repeated, squinting in an attempt to see her expression in the dark. Her voice quivered when she spoke. "But what's going on? Who's out here with you?"
She sighed and quickly stood up, brushing the dusty snow from her black pant legs. In the light of the crescent moon that peaked out from behind the clouds, he could see a distant look in her eyes. As Christine titled her head toward the wind, Raoul swore he saw a shadow loom up several feet behind her. Perhaps it was a trick of the moonlight.
"Something has happened to me," she said in a soft, breathy voice. "I can't explain it, but someone has come to help me. I have to focus, Raoul. I have to devote myself completely or else he'll leave."
Raoul dizzily attempted to stand up, still inhaling the cold air to get rid of the lingering burning in his mouth and nose. Taking a hand, he reached out to her in a comforting gesture, only to watch with dismay as she backed away from him. "You're not making any sense. Who's out here? Who's helping you?"
"Maybe an Angel," she replied with a smile, looking down at the rose in her hand. "Or maybe a friend. It's a miracle, I think."
"What? You're still not making any sense. Who are you talking about?"
Still smiling, she began to walk in the opposite direction. "I'm sorry. I have to go now. Have a good night."
He took several steps toward her. The surrounding trees bathed them in shadows, and a feeling of unrest hovered in the air. "Let me at least get you somewhere safe, Christine. The roads are completely iced over. What hotel are you staying at?"
She shook her head and continued walking to the long, black car. "I'm fine. I think I'm going back home tonight, anyway."
"Home? In this weather? Christine! What's going on? Why won't you talk to me?"
She paused and whirled around, feeling her instructor's presence very near to her. An extra chill emanated from the icy wind. "I'm sorry!" she called, her blond hair flying out behind her. "Things have changed. I have to go. Goodbye, Raoul." Christine turned back around and watched as the door of the car opened up, ignoring the despairing calls of her friend behind her.
As the engine switched on and the vehicle quickly began forward, she turned her head to look out the tinted window. Raoul continued to watch as the car drove away, his slouched figure soon fading off into the distance. A twinge went through her heart, but Christine quickly turned back around and allowed the heat to warm her numb face. The music soon began...Beethoven, she thought.
It was the only way things could be.
She needed the Voice at any cost.
Nadir shifted in the hard plastic chair, glancing at the wall clock as the second hand continued its slow descent. The clicking of computer keys sounded from behind the front desk, interrupted only when the young secretary paused to take a sip of her diet Pepsi. She had told him to wait for about fifteen minutes. He had been there for at least thirty.
Yawning, the Iranian glanced around the small FBI branch office. It looked fairly normal, considering the work that was done there. A dull blue carpet covered the floor, and a calendar hung on the whitewashed walls. Men and women in professional suits milled about, conversing over cups of coffee. What had he been expecting, though? A mysterious hideaway of secret agents in dark suits and sunglasses? Maybe he had been watching too many American movies.
After another five minutes, The Iranian finally stood up with an annoyed sigh and walked over to the desk, beginning to get a headache from the carpet cleaner fumes and ticking clock. "Excuse me," he said, struggling to keep a polite tone. "Should I come back later? I've been waiting a while."
She glanced up and dusted a brown strand of hair out of her face. "Mr. Weiss said he'd be out at one."
"Well, it's one fifteen. Maybe I could just go grab a bite to eat."
"No need for that, Mr. Khan."
Both Nadir and the secretary started as the gruff voice came up from behind them. The Iranian turned to see a man of about fifty, dressed in an expensive navy suit that seemed to emphasize his height. His mouth bore a grim expression, and his eyes were hidden behind a pair of thick glasses. Nadir blinked before slowly sticking out a hand. "Mr. Weiss?"
The man gave him a strong handshake. "That's right, sir. I apologize for being late. Just got out of a meeting." He turned to the secretary. "You can take your lunch break now, Beth."
As the young woman gathered up her belongings and left, Mr. Weiss motioned for Nadir to take a seat across from him. After glancing out into the corridor, he shut the door firmly and returned. Nadir waited anxiously.
"How are you doing today, Mr. Khan?" Mr. Weiss folded his hands together and leaned forward.
"I'm well," he replied, leaning back. "The drive was a little nasty with the weather, but I managed to make it."
Mr. Weiss nodded. "Yes. It does get bad here this time of year. I spent the entire morning shoveling my car out of the snow."
"Ah...yes. That does take some time. I will be happy to get back to a warmer climate." Nadir awkwardly shifted.
"You and me both. I was thinking of taking a trip down to Florida over the holidays with the family. Don't know if I'll get the time off, though." He paused and glanced down. "Well. I suppose we may as well get down to business. We're both busy men." Mr. Weiss reached down and laid a manila folder onto the desk. Several cassette tapes tumbled out of it. "The file is old. We never got around to transferring the tapes onto a CD, but I imagine that they still work."
Nadir picked one up and turned it over. "What's on them?"
"Mostly interviews with some people from your country. A lot of them were people wanting to trade some information for protection." He shrugged. "I listened to them, and you really have to dig to get what you're looking for. But it's there."
"How do you know what I'm looking for?" the Iranian sharply enquired, glancing up. "How do you even know who I am?"
Mr. Weiss laughed heartily. "Don't worry, Mr. Khan. We're not spying on you. I did a little digging through Buquet's activities. We don't have a lot of people coming around and asking about mysterious masked men. Especially not from your country."
"Oh," Nadir replied, feeling foolish. "I guess that makes sense."
"So, my question is...why?"
"Why?"
"Why are you looking for this man? Interesting case, I'll admit, but it's more of a legend than anything. Not even worth investigating."
Nadir froze for a moment. How much should he reveal? How much did they already know? He averted his eyes to the desktop. "I have a personal interest. That is all."
Mr. Weiss squinted at him with an unconvinced look before nodding and backing away from the desk. "Let me go get a player and let you listen to some of them. May take a couple of minutes."
Nadir nodded. "All right, Mr. Weiss." The man left the room, leaving Nadir to his ponderings.
Exactly what was he trying to do? Get Erik arrested? Absolve himself from guilt? He suddenly felt queasy.
A memory came back to him in the quiet of the room...their last conversation from over a decade ago. He could practically feel the sun burning down upon his face. The warm wind had been blowing hard that day. His masked friend had stood next to him, casting a long, thin shadow over the barren ground.
Erik... Please. Nadir had cautiously pled in his native tongue. No more of this. You're young. You're brilliant. You could do so much for the world.
He had laughed in that horrible way. And why should I give anything to the world, Nadir? What has the world ever done besides make my life hell?
A machine gun had gone off in the distance. The propellers of the helicopters dusted the sand up from the ground, whirling it around in the air before scattering the grains about. A baby was wailing somewhere.
Nadir had sighed and brushed the dust out of his eyes, feeling the grains in his teeth and nostrils. His companion was studying him with those two yellow eyes, the rest of his face hidden deep within a layer of robes, scarves, and a black mask. Then please stop the destruction. Please end this horror, Erik. You promised me that. That's the only reason I'm doing this for you.
Erik had laid a thin hand upon his shoulder. The Iranian could tell by the familiar gleam in his eyes that he was grinning. I assure you I'm done with the science of death, Nadir. I'm bored with it. He paused and looked around at the chaos. Besides. Mankind does a fine enough job destroying itself without my help.
Nadir had sighed sadly. Then I hope you find peace, friend. Somewhere out there. Away from all of this.
Erik had been unusually quiet for a long moment, the sounds of gunfire continuing to echo around them. Another helicopter had landed, and he had glanced over to it. Turning, Erik began to make his way over to the vehicle, the folds of his dark, heavy robe waving in the wind behind him...a black ghost under the blood red sun. Before he disappeared, he had turned around and spoken one last time. A strange sadness had marred his normally indifferent, cold tone.
There will never be peace, Nadir. Not for anyone. And especially not for me.
Then he had disappeared into the crowds. Nothing but a memory until now.
Shaking away the memory, the Iranian glanced up to see that Mr. Weiss had still not returned. With a quick glance around the office, he got up from the chair and turned into the corridor at a fast pace, the soles of his shoes echoing against the tiles.
The FBI couldn't help him. Nadir already knew the contents of the tapes. He had lived it, for God's sake. Why should he drag the authorities into this? It was his responsibility. No one else should have to get hurt. No one else should be involved.
But no.
As he opened the doors and entered into the chilly Boston air, it occurred to him why he had really vanished from an FBI office.
Even after everything, he still wasn't ready to bring his masked friend down.
Still, Nadir wasn't abandoning his mission altogether. Something very suspicious was occurring, and he was determined to figure out what Erik was up to, even if he had to do it on his own. Several days later, Nadir returned to the theater to investigate. He inspected the area where Buquet was found but saw no clues. He searched for more information about Christine but found nothing. His luck finally took a turn for the better. As Nadir passed an office, he heard a conversation taking place behind the slightly open door. He recognized the men's voices from the restaurant. Holding his breath, the Iranian paused to listen.
"I'm done with this, Armand! Done with it! I'll call the cops if I have to! To hell with complying!"
"Would you calm down? Don't do anything stupid. Or we'll both end up in jail."
"I'm not doing this anymore! Paying the guy off is one thing! But casting? Seating? I'll be damned if a whole balcony section is closed off for some nutcase. You tell the Giry woman to make sure it doesn't happen again! We lost hundreds of dollars because of that little stunt!" It sounded as though he slammed his hand upon a desk.
"You won't have to worry about the casting. Charlotte Gregory made a quick recovery. She'll be back for the next performance."
"She's better? Well, that's good news. We should thank God that the Daae girl miraculously pulled off a good performance. Now we won't have to worry about it."
"Yes. But we got another letter demanding that Ms. Gregory be cast as a minor character. It was on my desk this morning in that same red scribble."
"To hell with that! He can go to hell! Ms. Gregory is playing the part as she was supposed to. This psychopath can do whatever he wants!"
"He could still expose us."
The other man laughed. "So we've taken a little bit of money for ourselves. Who doesn't in a charity? Besides, are you going to tell me that blackmail and threats are legal? This guy is guilty of more than we are."
A low-pitched buzz suddenly sounded throughout the building. The lights flickered several times, casting eerie shadows upon the walls and ceiling before coming back on. Nadir could tell by the pause in conversation that they were as startled as he was.
"I wish the technicians would stop screwing around with the circuits. The lights have been doing that all morning."
"Faulty wiring? Anyway, I'm going to give Ms. Gregory a call and tell her she's back on. You can tell the Daae girl she's off. And if you get any more letters, show them to the police."
The lights flickered again, this time for nearly twenty seconds. An odd but very faint odor hung in the air.
Nadir slowly walked away with a swallow, a nervous feeling hanging over him.
Just what the hell are you doing, Erik? Where can this possibly all lead?