I hope everyone finds this chapter semi-interesting, even if it's not quite the climax you're looking for. A little historical research was done for the second half, and obviously much of it is made up. Basically, most of the broad facts concerning the countries were researched. Anything involving Erik is fictional. You'll see what I mean when you get there. Other than that, the chapter should speak for itself!

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Christine hugged her arms to her chest and shivered as the pinewood coffin was slowly lowered into the ground. Cold raindrops stung her cheeks, and the wind blew her hair in all directions. All around her stood black-clad people, huddled for warmth and eager to escape the dismal atmosphere. The preacher uttered a few more words of blessing, but his voice was carried away by the wind as the casket disappeared beneath the damp earth. As the ritual came to an end, people quickly began to make their way back to their cars, quietly talking amongst themselves in small groups.

"Are you okay? I know this must have been hard."

She looked up to see Meg standing beside her with a concerned expression. Her friend had been there for her the entire time, and Christine almost felt guilty for being so withdrawn. "Yeah. I'll be fine. It's been a long day." Noticing that the already gray sky was becoming darker, Christine frowned. "What time is it?"

Meg turned on her cell phone and checked the clock. "A little after five."

"It's getting late," she murmured.

"Yeah. A little, I guess. Where are you going next? Do you want to come over to my house for a while? You can even stay the night if you want."

Christine glanced up at the other people who were leaving the cemetery. She had heard that there was a small reception afterward but had immediately decided not to attend. The last thing she needed was to be crammed into a room with dozens of unfamiliar faces. "I...yeah," she finally answered. "Maybe for a little while. Raoul's coming soon to pick me up, though."

"Raoul? Are you guys just friends then?" She laughed at herself. "I'm sorry. It's none of my business."

"No," Christine began, as they walked forward and through the iron gates of the graveyard. "You're right. It is confusing. It's worse than confusing."

"Here," Meg said with a reassuring smile. "Let's get into my car where it's warm. Then you can tell me all about it." She opened the door, and Christine climbed in, momentarily waiting as her friend started the engine and turned on the heater. Raindrops continued to pound against the window. "So what's up?"

Christine momentarily allowed herself to relax back into the seat. "Raoul wants me to go with him tomorrow," she stated. "We're flying to Seattle in the morning."

Meg looked up in surprise. "Why? Don't you have a lot going for you here? I don't understand. Why does he want to take you there?"

She wrung her hands together. "Raoul doesn't think that...he thinks I'm in danger. I don't know." Meg continued to give her a bewildered look. "I'm sorry. It's too complicated to explain everything. I don't know what to do."

"Well, do you want to go with Raoul? Are you really in some kind of danger?"

"I don't know," she softly replied. "Maybe. But maybe not. Sometimes I think that I belong here."

A silence passed between the two friends. "Well..." Meg finally began. "What do you want to do? I guess it's that simple."

No one ever seemed to ask her that anymore. She pondered the question for several moments in a comfortable silence, gnawing at her lip. "You know what? I do know what I want to do. But I'm terrified. There's so much that I don't know."

Meg smiled. "I honestly have no idea what you're talking about. But I think you should do what you think is right. Don't let other people decide for you."

Christine momentarily gazed into the distance. "Maybe I'm completely insane," she murmured. "Maybe it's completely wrong. But I know what I want to do."

"Nothing ever wrong with a little insanity. I'm guessing you're not going to explain all of this to me any time soon?"

Christine smiled slightly and sat up. "I promise to tell you another day, Meg. I've got to get home now. Before it's too late." She quickly opened the car door and stepped out into the rain, a new energy in her blue eyes. "I'll call you as soon as I can."

Meg blinked in surprised at her urgency but nodded. "All right. Good luck! Call me whenever you need to."

"I will! Thank you so much for your help!"

Christine rushed off to find her car, being careful not to slide over the damp ground. The sky continued to grow darker with the approaching evening, and the clouds obscured any chance of moonlight. Her heart beat in anticipation, and adrenaline ran through her veins as she finally found her car and unlocked the door. Turning on the engine, she allowed the heat to blow over her frozen face. With a deep breath, she swerved onto the streets, almost in a trance as she drove the short distance to the apartment. Her eyes remained intensely focused upon the road...her mind in deep contemplation.

What am I doing? I'm so completely confused. But it was what she wanted. A frightening and wonderful decision.

Her head spun as she parked the car in the tenant lot and climbed out, not even noticing the cold temperature anymore. She ran up the wooden steps of the apartment complex, her heels pounding against the damp wood. Christine unlocked the door and turned on a small table lamp, casting a nervous glance toward the glowing digits on the microwave clock. The call didn't have to be made now, but it would be better for everyone if she did it as soon as possible. Through one phone call, she could put everything back into place.

With shaking hands, she picked up the receiver of the telephone, immediately hearing the dull sound of the dial tone. Christine inhaled deeply, quickly going over what she would say in her mind. Slowly, she punched in the now memorized number. Yes. Everything would be okay now...She would figure everything out with time.

The phone rang once on the other end. Christine held her breath, her other hand clenched into a tight ball. The apartment remained uncomfortably dark. She had forgotten to turn on a light.

No, she hadn't. She'd turned on a lamp. But it was off now. That was strange.

Something was in the room with her. She could sense a familiar presence nearby. The temperature seemed to drop. Her eyes narrowed as she squinted in the darkness, clutching the receiver even tighter.

The phone rang a second time.

Or was it a third time?

A hand suddenly clamped down roughly upon her left shoulder, causing her to gasp and drop the receiver, sending it crashing to the floor. Christine whirled around and looked up. Two yellow lights beamed down on her...little beads of fire...a glowing medley of anguish and rage and desperation. She gaped for several moments before the word finally left her mouth. "Erik..."

He loomed above her, seeming to cast a shadow even in the dark. "Calling for a flight schedule?" he calmly questioned in a voice that sent a chill down her spine. "Or perhaps wondering what is taking your friend so long to arrive."

"No," she managed to gasp, attempting to hold her ground. "No. I was going to call—Erik, I promise!"

"If I am not mistaken," he slowly interrupted. "Mr. Chagny has experienced a delay. Pity, isn't it?"

Her mouth gaped open in horror. "What did you...? Oh God...what..."

He laughed in a horrible way, a grinding sound almost. "Yes. I see how much you worry over his welfare. You think of him constantly, don't you, my dear? He has always been on your confused little mind." Erik approached to where they were inches apart. "You have been plotting your escape from hell for some time, haven't you? Lying and planning all this time. Oh, poor Christine..." He brushed her hair with his icy fingertips. "Don't you know that there is no escape from Erik?"

Tears began to fall from her eyes, and fear gripped her heart. She had to make him understand. Please let him understand... "Erik. I wasn't going to leave! Please listen to me..." She wanted to know if Raoul was alive but didn't dare ask now.

"My Christine," he whispered, taking out something from his black suit jacket and stepping forward. "Even the lies you tell are enticingly beautiful."

"Please," she whispered, taking a step backwards and running into the table. "I promise that I wasn't going to leave. Please believe me. Please tell me you didn't hurt him."

"Yes. You have promised many things, haven't you? And each time, I have believed you. But Erik grows weary of your games now, my dear." He took another step forward and pressed the familiar cloth up to her face, possessively gripping her swaying torso with his other arm in anticipation of her collapse.

Perhaps she should have been terrified, but an intense sadness overtook her in those moments before darkness. She'd been too late. A despairing sigh escaped from her lips as the room began to fade.

"Come, Christine," she heard him whisper. "I have tickets for our grand finale."

As her eyes closed, she was able to murmur two final words. "I'm sorry." Christine briefly wondered if he had heard her, before again fading into the void of nothingness.

The streetlights were slowly coming on, the soft glow reflecting off the puddles that lined the road in front of the apartment complexes. Nadir nervously looked left and right for any sign of Ms. Daae, wondering if he was even in the right location.

The Iranian sighed. Maybe he was becoming too paranoid.

After becoming extraordinarily anxious in New York, he had finally thrown some clothes into a suitcase and headed back up to Vermont. There had been absolutely no sign of his masked friend over the last few days. From Nadir's understanding of Erik's incoherent ramblings on that nearly fateful night, Christine had returned to go to her guardian's funeral. He knew that if he could find the girl, he would be able to find Erik. There was no way that Erik would let her out of his sight for very long, no matter what the circumstances.

Nadir had arrived that afternoon, driving nonstop from the city through the rain and wind. After stopping at a coffee house and ordering a cup of tea, he looked over the obituaries in the local paper and saw that four funerals would be held that week: two elderly men, a teenager, and an elderly woman. It was a fairly easy guess as to which one had been Christine's guardian, the summary even mentioning that the woman had taken in a ward. Nadir frowned as he noticed that the funeral had been held that afternoon, likely ending less than an hour ago. He had hoped to try to reach the girl at the cemetery...maybe talk to her...ask her what was really going on without Erik's looming presence.

With a sigh, he checked the old woman's last name again and found a phonebook by a payphone. Sure enough, she was listed, the only one with that unusual last name. He was fairly certain that he had seen the street address before. Nadir frowned and glanced out the café window, noticing how miserable it still was outside. If he did live out the rest of his days in this country, he would be sure to move south. Florida, maybe. This was becoming unbearable.

Having nothing better to do and growing ever anxious, Nadir made the drive toward Christine's apartment, glancing down at a map every so often. He considered getting a hotel room first, but a feeling of urgency had come upon him. A sixth sense.

The streets were nearly empty, people permanently going indoors for the evening to escape the weather. He desperately searched the street signs, driving through some residential areas in the hopes of finding the building. Christine was on the poorer side of town, he knew. He imagined that Erik had used his garnered wealth to buy her many a pretty thing.

Finally, Nadir found the right road, although he still had no clue as to which building she was in. Many of the painted addresses were faded, making it impossible to know exactly where he was. Most of the lights in the homes were turned off, leaving him with only the streetlights to find his way.

And that was where he sat now-waiting and watching for something unknown. He considered getting out and taking a closer look at the addresses. If he wasn't careful, though, someone would think him suspicious and call the police. Perhaps he should try again tomorrow when there was daylight. Maybe there was no hurry.

As he started to shift gears and turn around, Nadir heard the sharp squeal of tires behind him. He glanced into his rearview mirror and watched as a blue car quickly pulled up on the other side of the road. "Teenagers," he muttered under his breath. Nadir's eyes narrowed curiously, though, as someone suddenly flung open the door and stepped out onto the pavement. The figure then took off running toward a particular apartment building.

The Iranian opened his car door and began to follow, sensing something amiss. He continued to keep a safe distance, watching as the person ascended the steps and opened one of the doors at the top. All the lights in the room flashed on, and he could see the silhouette of someone frantically rummaging through all the rooms in the apartment. Within a minute, the person had emerged again and was racing back down the steps.

Nadir slowly approached, and the figure suddenly took notice of him. Both souls froze in place. As Nadir's eyes adjusted to the dim light, he realized that a gun was pointed directly at him. His gaze drifted upward, and he found himself looking into the frightened blue eyes of Christine's friend. They stared at each other for several seconds, before Nadir finally found his voice. "Would you mind putting that down?" he asked, maintaining a calm tone. "I do not think that I am the one you wish to shoot."

The young man slowly lowered the weapon, but his eyes remained full of distrust. "You," he stated. "You're always around when something's happening. Who the hell are you?"

Nadir hesitated. "That would take an entire day to tell you." He glanced up to the now dark apartment. "What is going on here?"

The boy's eyes narrowed. "Why should I tell you anything?" he asked, slightly out of breath. "How do I know you're not working with him?"

"I assure you that I'm in no way allied with him. He was an acquaintance from many years ago. But what is happening right now? Please. It may be urgent."

Although the boy still looked unsure of whom to trust, he seemed in desperate need of help. "I was going to get Christine out of here. She's been terrorized for the past months. We were going to leave tomorrow."

A very disturbed look crossed Nadir's face. "You meant to take her away? Did she agree to go with you?"

He nodded. "Yeah. She was scared of what he would do, but I'm sure she wanted to escape. I mean, how could she not want to get out of here?" The young man nervously looked around the neighborhood. "He found out that I was with her. The bastard came to my house and damaged my cars a couple of hours ago. I'm trying to—"

"He knows, then?" Nadir frantically interrupted, his eyes widening. "Erik knows you were leaving with her? He sabotaged your return?"

"Yeah. I wanted to get back before he got here." A panicked expression contorted the young man's mouth. "Christine's not here, though. Maybe she's with her friend."

Nadir let out a pained chuckle, placing his hand to his forehead in distress. "If Erik knows and he had a head start, I fear Christine is long gone." He cursed. "Allah help us all."

"He really has her?"

"I fear it would be a waste of time to look here any longer."

"Then where do we go?" the boy panicked. "What do we do? How do we get to her?"

Nadir looked into the distance. "Young man, are you completely and absolutely positive that Ms. Daae meant to leave with you tomorrow? She was frightened? She wanted to get away?"

"She was confused and upset," he replied. "But she meant to go with me. We had everything planned out."

The Iranian sighed and held out his hand, his expression grim. "My name is Nadir Khan. I am probably the best ally you have right now, although that isn't saying much."

"Raoul Chagny." They shook hands, both with cold, damp palms. "So where do we go now? The police?"

"My best bet would be back to the city. After that, it is difficult to say. I do not think the police should be involved yet. It might make things worse."

"Damn," Raoul muttered. "I shouldn't have even driven back up here."

"Sure you should have!" replied Nadir, with a depressed smirk. "You wouldn't have met me if you had not come back. Come. Let's get going." He turned to leave.

"Wait. My car is about out of gas. I think there's also something wrong with the brake. It's not mine, actually. I had to borrow."

Nadir turned. "We will take mine, then. It may be best that we travel together anyway, as city traffic is heavy. The last thing we need is to get lost."

Raoul nodded in appreciation. "Thanks."

Nadir unlocked the doors, and they both climbed in. He felt sorry for Mr. Chagny, as he could tell that the young man was scared and confused. And he had every reason to be! It was almost a miracle that the boy was still alive. Nadir turned onto the road and drove forward at a high speed, thankful that traffic was not heavy.

"So can you tell me anything about this?"

Nadir looked over. "What do you want to know?"

"Anything!" Raoul exclaimed. "I want to know what's going on. Who is this guy? What does he want with Christine? Is he going to hurt her?"

"Who is Erik?" Nadir asked, leaning back into the seat. "That is a very long story. But I suppose that I could provide a few details?" He paused, a distant gleam entering his dark eyes. "I first met him in the late eighties when he was...oh, probably around your age. He had been living in Moscow for several years, after spending most of his childhood at some dirty, decrepit orphanage. I'm guessing someone must have discovered his genius and pulled him out of that wretched place."

"Genius?" Raoul asked, obviously beginning to realize that he should have paid more attention to Christine's fears.

"Completely," Nadir replied. "Our students studying abroad there informed us of him. A prodigy in science, medicine, mathematics, language, music. Although under the guise of a university student, he was doing some more secretive work for the Soviet government. It was said that he kept his face hidden at all times and said little to anyone. He was completely detached from everything around him."

"His face?" questioned Raoul. "I mean, Christine said that..."

"Indeed," said Nadir, frowning in memory. "If Erik had a gift, he also had a curse. I can only assume it was a deformity from birth, but it was something beyond the medicine of that time. Maybe even the present time. He wore a mask to cover it. Anyhow, the Iranian government took extreme interest in some of his rumored talents. Erik was doing some very interesting things up in Moscow."

"Like what?"

"As I said, he was a genius in the sciences...chemistry and biology. He was able to manipulate...Well, I do not have time to go into detail. He was able to make some of the most sophisticated chemical agents that we'd heard of."

Raoul gaped. "Weapons, you mean?"

"Yes. And our country was quite interested. You see, we had just come out of a long war with Iraq. Both countries made use of chemical weapons during that time, nerve agents mostly, but it was clear that Iraq had a superior program. When the war ended, my government became intent on building up its own cache of weapons. Conveniently, the Soviet Union was near collapse and eager to get rid of all signs of its covert programs. After a few currency exchanges, it was easy to bring Erik to Iran. He really had nowhere else to go, certainly no family."

"My God," he muttered. "And I thought he was some guy off the streets."

"It gets better. Erik had spent most of his time in Russia hidden behind laboratory walls or in an isolated dorm room. He was more or less a dirty secret, I believe. We offered him freedom of movement, higher pay, and luxury. In return, we received the full scope of his talents."

Raoul hesitated. "So what exactly did he do for your country?"

"Erik could do anything. He strengthened the chemical weapons that we already possessed and created new ones that would give you nightmares. Blister agents, nerve agents, advanced delivery systems. He harvested various viruses into biological weapons, some with no known cure. He..." Nadir made a face. "Was responsible for testing them as well. I was given the position of a sort of supervisor."

"Tested them?" Raoul interrupted.

Nadir sighed, keeping his eyes on the road. "Weapons like that have to be tested before being put to use. Although animals were normally used, Erik developed a taste for humans. He took prisoners, usually traitors of the state, and used them as subjects. Most officials turned a blind eye, even encouraged it for a bit of twisted entertainment." Raoul looked horrified, but the Iranian continued. "You have to understand that Erik separated himself from humanity. No one had treated him as such so he saw himself as something else altogether."

The young man grimaced. "What happened? Why did he leave?"

"Erik had no loyalties to anyone. As soon as other parties-disgruntled factions and the like-discovered his talents, they traveled from far away to get his secrets. He had no qualms with selling his weapon designs at a high price. Now as secretive as our masked friend was, the Iranian government soon discovered his operations. Needless to say, we weren't pleased."

"They tried to have him killed?"

Nadir nodded. "It was to be quick. A sniper would come and do away with him one night; no one would ever know. Besides, many were very wary of having a foreigner in there, anyway. What if he were to tell the Americans and Europeans what was going on? Now that we had what we wanted, any excuse for Erik's death seemed reasonable."

"How did he escape?"

He was silent for several moments, turning onto another dark road. "Over the years, I formed somewhat of a friendship with Erik. He was young, and I hoped he would realize what good he could do. I attempted to act as a mentor, conversed with him when everyone else was afraid to." Nadir smiled sadly. "He could actually be quite humorous when he was relaxed, was rather witty. And he was interesting, knew everything about anything. When my wife died giving birth to a stillborn, he was one of the few people I could talk to. I was certain that, given some friendship...some guidance, he would realize his potential."

"So you saved him?" Raoul quietly enquired.

"I did. By that time, your country was beginning to send troops into the region for the first Gulf War. Refugee helicopters were constantly around the area, getting people out who opposed the Hussein regime. With the help of some contacts, I snuck him onto one, making him promise that he would give up this science of death for good."

"And then he came here?"

"No. He was taken to Europe, where he remained for quite some time. I've heard that he survived off the Eastern European criminal underground, doing favors and the like. His voyage here was recent." Nadir sighed. "I do not think my wish for him ever came true."

"What else can he do?" asked Raoul, his face a little paler than it was before. "Christine, she acts like he's superhuman."

Nadir chuckled wryly. "Christine isn't so far off. You name it, and Erik can do it. Chemicals...electronics...Given the right material, he could probably build a sophisticated explosive within a matter of hours. He could work any weapon and move silently enough to effectively use it. I have no doubt that he has earned some of his money making people disappear."

The Iranian paused. "But...Erik can also do things of great beauty. He can play about any musical instrument mankind has to offer. He would have been famous for it under other circumstances. I have seen him design buildings that would take your breath away. He also had the capability to cure some of those diseases. I saw him destroy a test tube of deadly viruses for his own amusement once, although he made me swear to tell no one."

"Wow," muttered Raoul, still in slight shock. They drove in silence for several moments, each lost in their own thoughts. He spoke again, his voice quiet. "And Christine? Why her? How did she get mixed up with this-this man?"

"That is something I do not quite know," Nadir replied. "Erik likely has little money making operations throughout the northeast, and one of them was extorting money from a charity. My belief is that he used this connection to begin manipulating her. And he was there to stop me from revealing his secrets. That is all I know about their first encounters. However they met, the girl has affected him in some way that I cannot explain. He is consumed with her, would do absolutely anything for her. It is the closest thing to love that he knows."

"But why did you let it get this far?" Raoul asked, not hiding the slight disdain in his voice. "If you knew all this, why didn't you stop it?"

A short silence passed. "I did try somewhat, but you are right. I did not try to the best of my ability. I supposed that I dared to hope that Erik had truly found happiness. It was perhaps a false hope, but I almost wished that Christine would be able to love him back. I wished Erik to have found the peace in his life that he needed through your friend. I had never seen him so content...so human." Nadir nearly choked, before quickly composing himself. "Just the hopes of a delusional old man. I am sorry."

Raoul looked like he was about to say something but stopped. He gazed out the window and into the gathering darkness, likely processing all the information.

"Do you know how to use that thing?" Nadir calmly asked after several moments, motioning toward the gun.

Raoul glanced up. "Yeah." He hesitated. "Am I going to have to?" he asked, slightly less confidence in his voice.

Another silence passed.

"I do not see how this night can end with both Ms. Daae free and Erik alive."