Hey guys! Thanks so much to all who reviewed! The X-files? Black Hawk Down? Desperate Housewives? LOL! I guess I'll take it as a compliment that my work resembles well-known TV shows and movies. Thanks guys :)
Well, I think this is a somewhat anticipated chapter. I tried to make it interesting, and I really hope you enjoy it!
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Christine sat alone in a corner on one side of the stage, silently watching as the rest of the cast prepared to go on. A feeling of melancholy swept through her as she realized she would not be joining them. She would not get to experience the feeling of being applauded and appreciated by the audience. Her only job was to stand by in case Magnolia became ill, and Charlotte was dead set on performing that night.
Ever since she had returned from the cemetery several days earlier, Christine had been met with a flood of bad news. Meg had immediately called and revealed that Charlotte was well enough to perform in the next show. The doctors had apparently given up on a diagnosis, and Charlotte had recovered faster than expected.
Then, upon visiting her guardian, Christine had discovered that the doctors gave Mrs. Valerius less than two months to live. The cancer was spreading like fire. All they could do now was alleviate the pain. Although she had tried to be brave in front of her guardian, Christine had allowed the tears to pour from her eyes once she was in her car. She had sat in front of the steering wheel, sobbing for almost an hour.
On top of everything, the Voice had not spoken to her since the strange night at the graveyard. She had gone into the little lounge the day before, hoping for a word of encouragement or solace, but only an eerie silence had met her. Was her instructor really so angry about her encounter with Raoul? Surely the Voice could see how hard she was trying to avoid her old friend. Not once had she spoken to Raoul in the last few days. He had given up the chase.
"Christine!" exclaimed an angry voice from beside her. She turned to see Charlotte glaring in her direction. The hotheaded young woman had been sneering at her all day, likely angry over Christine's success in the show.
"Yeah?" Christine wearily asked, wondering if Charlotte really was well enough to perform. She was still very pale and had lost a fair amount of weight during her illness.
"What did you do with the dress for the second act? I can't find it!"
"It should be with the other costumes," Christine replied, dreading the confrontation. "I left it in the pile after the show."
"No, you didn't," Charlotte snapped back. "I already looked there. Did you lose it? Did you take it home?"
"No! I left it with the others."
"Ms. Gregory," interrupted Mr. Remy, coming up behind them. "Your costume was taken for alterations. It should be delivered back here at any time. Please calm down. Everything will be fine."
Charlotte shook her head in disgust and quickly walked away. Christine sighed with relief, feeling the need to get away from the commotion. Leaving the stage, she started to look for a water fountain. The air seemed especially dry, and there was the very faint smell of something burning. Christine pulled up her sleeves and rubbed her temples, beginning to get a headache in the overheated building.
"Ms. Daae?" Just as she spotted a water fountain, a deep, accented voice came up from behind her. She whirled around to focus on a well-dressed man with an expression of concern upon his darkly toned face. It took her several seconds to realize that he had come to her hotel several months ago. He had been the one to leave so quickly.
"Yes?" she replied with uncertainty, noticing that the halls were nearly empty.
"I'm sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if I could speak with you for a moment." He paused and glanced around before turning back to her. "There is something important I need to ask you."
"What about?" The man's dark, enquiring eyes made her nervous.
"It is best to talk somewhere else. Please. Come with me for a moment. I promise I mean you no harm."
"I have to get to the stage," she quickly replied, taking several steps back. "I'm sorry. I really can't talk right now." Christine turned around, jumping as the man's hand came down upon her shoulder as if to hold her in place.
"Please, Ms. Daae. It is very important that I talk to you. You could be in great danger."
Her heartbeat quickened as she shrugged his hand off. "No...I really have to go. Please."
"What's going on here?"
Christine looked up to see Raoul walking toward them, feeling a wave of relief wash over her.
The Middle Eastern man glanced up as well, frowning at the interruption. "I need to talk to her a moment, young man. It will only take a second."
"I don't think she wants to talk to you," Raoul replied, continuing to come forward. "What's this all about?"
The strange man sighed and threw his hands up into the air in frustration. "Never mind!" he exclaimed, turning around and walking away. He quickly strode through the hall before finally turning left and disappearing down another corridor. Christine brushed a strand of hair out of her face and gazed after him for a moment.
"Who was that?" Raoul asked, coming up beside her.
"I don't know," she replied. "I saw him a long time ago, but I don't know who he is." Christine turned to face her friend. "Thanks for intervening, though. I wasn't sure what to do."
"No problem," he said softly. "Anyway, I wanted to come say goodbye to you. Phillip and I are leaving after this show. Heading back to the city."
"Oh." Christine looked up. "It was nice seeing you again. I...I'm sorry we didn't get to spend much time together. I know everything is hard to understand."
"It is," he agreed, not hiding the slight contempt in his voice. "But I guess you must have your reasons."
She nodded with a sad smile. "Yeah. I do."
Raoul started to turn in the opposite direction. "Good luck with everything, Christine. Maybe I'll run into you again someday."
"Good luck to you, too."
He nodded and walked off, leaving her to her thoughts. After getting a quick drink of water, Christine slowly made her way back to the stage, feeling even more alone. It seemed as if everyone was disappearing on her these days. Perhaps after the show, she would attempt to speak with her instructor again. Surely he hadn't truly abandoned her.
Most of the audience was already inside, chatting among themselves and waiting for the performance to begin. She immediately saw Raoul and Phillip toward the middle rows. Phillip was talking with the people behind them, and his younger brother was quietly staring at the stage with a dull look in his eyes. Christine sighed, feeling a twinge of guilt for having to hurt her childhood friend.
Within several minutes, the lights dimmed and the opening score began to play. Taking a seat to the side, Christine settled in to watch. She leaned back against the plaster wall as a yawn of exhaustion escaped her throat. The warmth from the building continued to add to her fatigue. She was almost happy not to be in one of the heavy costumes.
Drifting in and out of a light doze, Christine was vaguely aware of the succession of familiar songs being played. Cap'n Andy's Calliope began, the fun melody lightening her mood somewhat. Trevor sang his first song strongly, earning a loud round of applause from the audience. As Charlotte began her first duet, Make Believe, Christine noticed that her voice had gotten weaker since the illness. She was definitely struggling with some of the higher notes.
Just as Christine began to drift off again, the shrill siren of an ambulance blasted through the air, causing both cast and audience to jump and look around. The noise had sounded as though it were coming directly from the stage, fading after several seconds amidst the confused chattering of the audience.
"What was that?" asked Meg, coming up behind her. "It was too close to be outside."
"I have no idea, Meg. Maybe it's problems with the sound effects."
The cast looked around before awkwardly resuming their lines. Charlotte began to sing her part again, her mouth twisted in uncertainty.
As Magnolia stepped forward on the fake wooden boat, beginning to regain her confidence, the clamor of dogs barking sounded from above the stage. Howls, yips, and woofs emanated throughout the auditorium, bringing both gasps and laughs from the audience. A look of horror crossed Charlotte's face. Mr. Remy strode out to the bottom of a stairwell, running a hand through his thinning, gray hair nervously.
"What the hell is going on up there?" he called to the sound technicians.
One of the younger assistants came out of the room and shrugged with a bewildered look. "We're not doing anything up here. The equipment is messed up! I don't understand where the sounds are coming from!"
Mr. Remy shook his head in disgust before returning to the stage. "Keep going!" he whispered to the nervous cast. "Maybe it's over. Just continue!"
Eyes wide and fists clenched, Charlotte raised her head to sing again. As she opened her mouth, a loud ensemble of frogs began croaking...coming from all corners in a horrible orchestra. With a sharp sob, Ms. Gregory ran off the stage, pale and shaking. The rest of the cast looked around helplessly as the croaking died down.
Amidst the nervous murmurs, a very high-pitched buzzing began to vibrate through the air, slowly growing in audibility. The lights both on and off stage began to rapidly flicker as the noise grew louder, and the room became encased in a wide medley of darting shadows. Christine remained frozen in place, attempting to keep her balance and looking around for a familiar face. With a sigh of distress, she began to make her way to the back of the stage, hoping to find Meg again.
Gasps could be heard from all around. Some people closed their eyes, growing dizzy from the flashing lights. Several people were attempting to leave the room in a panic, tripping over feet as they unsteadily walked through the aisles. With a final crackling sound, the lights finally switched off all together, leaving the auditorium in darkness. The entire building was pitch black.
A voice immediately came over the intercom, barely audible over the disconcerted voices of the audience. "Please do not panic, ladies and gentlemen. We're experiencing some technical problems. Please remain seated. If repairs cannot be made, we will attempt to get everyone out in an orderly fashion."
From somewhere in the darkness, Christine heard panicked voices talking to one another. Several flashlights switched on, along with a few of the emergency lights. One man whispered frantically from below stage. "The wires! They're all severely overheated! All of them! We need to get people out of here before there's an electrical fire!"
"What? How did that happen?" gasped Mr. Remy. "Go find the managers! I'll try to get an announcement out. We don't want a stampede!" He turned to the cast. "Everyone go through the back exits now. Before the audience gets up. Hurry!"
Christine blindly made her way out with everyone else, using the dim emergency lighting to find her way. She paused in the middle of the corridor, beginning to feel dizzy in the endless darkness as she tried to get to the exits. From far away, she could hear the pounding of footsteps as the audience attempted to escape the building. The smell of burnt rubber lingered faintly in the air.
With a choked cry, Christine turned and realized she was standing near the familiar lounge. She swallowed thickly, suddenly wanting to hear his guiding voice. What if he had somehow been hurt in all of this? The thought made her heart freeze.
Oblivious to the noise around her, Christine made her way to the door and placed her hand upon the warm metal knob. Suddenly, she sensed someone near her in the darkness. Her breath caught in her throat as she whirled around.
Several feet away from her stood a figure, at least a foot taller than she was. Enshrouded in black, he was barely visible. As two tiny yellow lights beamed down upon her, Christine could do nothing but stare back, frozen into place.
"Christine," came the familiar voice of her instructor, even more haunting in its nearness. "Come with me. I will take you away from this. I will allow the world to see you. You will never be lonely again." A black-clad hand reached out to her. "Come, Christine."
The voice was the same, smooth and hypnotizing...drawing her toward the looming shadow. Someone was calling her name in the distance, but she couldn't bring herself to turn around. The Voice had come to her. She found herself reaching for the hand.
The figure clasped onto her firmly and led her through the shadows of the theater...through the now-emptied corridors and toward the back. She merely followed, entranced and numb. The excessive warmth and strange fumes contributed to the fog inside of her mind.
It was only when she exited through a pair of double doors and into the freezing evening that she was partially awakened from her stupor. Looking around and inhaling a breath of cold, fresh air, Christine became aware of her position. The hand still held her firmly in its grasp, pulling her forward at a quick pace. A noise of protest escaped from her lips, and she attempted to pull back a little.
The figure turned around. In the light from several street lamps, she noticed for the first time that his entire face was covered in a shiny, black mask. A pair of yellow eyes looked through the tiny slits and down upon her.
"Where...where are we going?" she asked, shivering from the cold and a building sense of fear.
"Everything will be fine," he whispered. "Come, Christine. You will see all that awaits you."
"But...I..." Christine turned her head to look back at the theater, the beginnings of a scream threatening to emerge from her dry throat. What was happening?
"Christine."
She turned around at the melodious sound of her name. Immediately, something soft covered her lips and nose. A foreign smell invaded her mouth and nostrils, causing her eyes to widen in shock.
Within another second, a feeling of complete exhaustion overtook her body. She could no longer think or speak. Her eyelids drooped as her head became a cluttered mess of distant memories. With her last ounce of consciousness, Christine realized she was going to collapse.
The fear of falling faded as a pair of arms caught her limp body.
Slowly, she was carried forward to someplace unknown.
Then there was darkness.