Glad that my one reviewer liked my last chapter! Kudos to you! And here be my next chapter! This is still Katey's POV.

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I numbly made my way back to the dormitories, relishing the tingling feeling on my arms, and wishing that I could have been in his arms for a moment longer.

I sighed, and flopped on my bed, glad that the girls were still out in the hallways, trying to hook up with Andre and Firmin. All I wanted was to lay on my bed in the quiet, and try to un-mad myself at Christine.

It didn't take very long to calm down, and by the time the ballet girls came in I was ready to go and see Christine.

I squeezed past the girls who were gossiping happily about most likely Andre and Firmin, and how they were going to ploy them into likening them, and made my way to the semi-packed hallway, and dodged my way to Christine's dressing room.

I inconspicuously opened the door a crack, and slipped in, but for all my troubles was met with an empty room, the air thick with the perfume of so many flowers jammed into the tiny space. "Jesus… And I thought Axe was bad." I said aloud, trying to wave some of the smell away from my nose and mouth.

I quickly crossed back to the door, and slipped back out. If anything the air here was bad as anything, and my lungs were screaming for clean air that wasn't clouded by cigar smoke or the sickly sweet smell of flowers.

I slipped back through the crowd, and headed to the area of the opera I knew would be deserted; the stage.

The fly men were presumably getting drunk, the maids and people who straighten up the seats have done their job: throwing sheets over the velvet chairs and railings and picked up any left opera glass, rose, or fan, and were most likely out with the fly men.

You couldn't pick a better time to be on the stage and alone to get some air.

I walked onto the stage, gazing out to the sea of white sheets, and sat down in the middle of the polished wood floor. I breathed as deep as my stays would let me, and I tried to rid my nose of that god-awful mix of cigars and flowers.

I sat there for some time, thinking about Raoul and Christine; wondering if Erik had already taken her down to his lair, and if I had any chance with Raoul. "Fleur, you need to give up. He belongs to Christine." I said aloud, not noticing I had called myself by my new name instead of my true one.

I felt the air behind me move, and I whipped around, my heart stopping and my stomach twisting into a thousand knots at the sight of the man in black behind me…

Erik.

I gasped loudly, and crawled backwards and away from him in a very crab-like fashion. I looked into his face was even more frightened by what I saw. He was looking down at me with what appeared to be rage in his eyes.

"What do you mean by saying that 'He belongs to Christine.'" Erik demanded, looking incredibly threatening.

"I…I didn't mean anything by it…" I said, praying that he would believe me.

No such luck. "You are one of the poorest liars I have seen in my life. I repeat my request. Tell me what you meant." He said, his expression frozen.

I visibly quivered from head to toe, and the fact that he had his hand ever so close to his pocket made things even worse. I knew that he could kill me in an instant, but he could also kill Raoul in an instant. The situation was nerve-wracking.

I stayed silent, hoping that he would just go away.

After a few moments he drew out a length of rope from his pocket. My eyes widened and I tried to scoot further away from him, but he grabbed my arm and held onto it with an iron grip.

"Behold this narrow piece of rope, which could fit so easily around your neck if you do not speak. So I advise that you speak up." He said, inching the Punjab ever so closer to my neck.

I panicked, and tried to squirm out of his vise like grip, but he held fast to my arm.

"Let me go! I know nothing!" I cried, jerking myself to my feet, trying to throw off his hold.

"You do know something, and I want to know what it is." He said, curling his hand ever tighter around my arm.

"I know nothing!" I cried again, trying to slap his hand off me. He removed his hand from my arm and instead put it about my waist and his other hand covering my nose and mouth. He pulled his arm tight around my waist, and kept a firm hand about my face, thus cutting off my air supply.

I gasped against his hand, trying to get air, but I was already becoming dizzy.

"See what happens when you keep things secret? You should learn to speak up." He said, and pulled his arm tighter. I became extremely lightheaded, as if I was going to faint any second, and it wasn't until I had given in and tried to sag to my knees did he let me go.

I fell to the floor with a thump, and he said over my body, "I will find out from you. It is only a matter of time." And with that he swept from the stage, leaving me lying on the cold wooden planks.

I lay there for longer than was needed to catch my breath, and stayed there only out of fright and terror of what had just happened, and what will happen.

'I should have just said something… why didn't I just say something….' I thought to myself, over and over, along with 'why did you say that aloud… why did you say that aloud…'

I knew that I should have gotten up and gone back to the dormitories, but part of me just wanted to stay where I was, in that timeless time when a minute could be a second and an hour could be a minute.

Finally out of exhaustion, both mental and physical, my eyes shut, and I fell into a troubled sleep.

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Wowie didn't expect Erik to be THAT mean! Or this chapter to be so short… but hey, that's the way the cookie crumbles.

I'm thinking of having an Erik's POV, but I'm not sure yet…

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