Fears Within a Dream...
Meg's mind was drifting in and out of consciousness. Despite her physical exhaustion, her thoughts refused to allow her to completely fall into sleep. How long had she been lost with the phantom? Surely, it had been nearly a week, or more? Or perhaps time moved faster here, so then maybe two. Meg shifted restlessly, brow furrowed in subtle discomfort. She had also noticed how thin Erik was throughout her time dozing. While she found his presence itself reassuring, he made for poor padding. It nearly made Meg laugh to think she expected anything more. It was odd enough that his company comforted her, after all, she had been frightened of this man's legend for most of her childhood...while, exacerbating it herself. Though, Meg was sure she was not regretful about doing so. She was a child, assisting in spreading rumours and amusing herself, when she was not practicing or performing, of course. It had all been in good fun, surely Erik understood, considering he had not helped his reputation any by his ominous threats and pert spirit. Or that was how it seemed, according to the gossip backstage. But the phantom near her was certainly different. His harsh behaviour seemed logical though, considering their predicament; hopefully that was the reason. Meg shrugged, accepting that she would never really know. Though, with this action she realized quickly how cold Erik was, physically, and even more solid- she then recognized it was not Erik at all.
Eyes opening rapidly, Meg leaned away from the metal wall she was leaning against swiftly, looking somewhat startled. Once she calmed, she shifted away from the wall, eyes adjusting to the dim lighting gradually. When her vision returned, Meg cast a glance around the room with metal walls until her attention fell on the black adorned man sitting in the far corner. "We were not separated." Meg said evenly, smiling subtly before her relieved countenance faltered into confusion as she heard him sigh forlornly. She blinked blankly, as his shoulders flagged and he murmured something incoherently. "Can you hear me, Erik?" Meg inquired, certain he could not. This was assured when he did not snap at her to 'keep quiet' or inform that he was 'busy thinking'. Sighing herself, but in frustration, Meg looked away and took a moment to look round the room again. Nothing had changed, and so Meg looked back to Erik and slowly stood. Surprisingly, she found herself unafraid, and stepped intrepidly to Erik. Lacing her hands behind her back, she leaned to the left to see what exactly he was doing, only to again be consumed by confusion. "What...?" She queried aloud, watching Erik's hand idly as he trailed his fingers through the puddle of water before him. He was speaking, melodic voice fraught with guilt and despair, coming in in waves, as if from a damaged radio.
"I didn't mean-" "Yes Chri-" "...was only bec-" "...understand...had to." The desperation in Erik's voice made Meg's heart sink, and the fact that whatever Erik was struggling to explain; he was going to fail.
And Meg was right- suddenly Erik went rigid and bridled. This manner changed so quickly, it made Meg take a large leap back. "No! Don't...!" He cried, voice a mixture of anger and pain. Meg was sure there was more said, but a sudden feeling of nausea came over her and she fought to keep her balance. Reaching up to clutch her head, whilst fighting away the threat of sickness, Meg felt her feet give way underneath her. Throwing her arms out in a fruitless attempt to steady herself, she fell back, squeezing her eyes closed as she braced herself for the impact. But it never came.
The noise of rustling was all that sounded, and thankfully the nausea had waned completely. Warily opening her eyes, Meg found herself staring at an overcast sky and framing her vision was bistre-coloured wheat. She smiled subtly, feel much lighter in mind then she had for quite some time. Inhaling deeply, she took some minutes to relax and listen to the swaying wheat before exhaling and gracelessly sitting up. Meg placed her hands behind her against the folded wheat, where she once laid, pausing momentarily before standing and brushing herself off. She hesitated, aware she was wearing a much different dress, one much more exclusive than anything she owned. Turning, Meg looked from the slope she stood, down the waving field, to the bare, awry trees below that towered in shadow. There was something amiss about said trees, and regardless of her unexplainable dread of moving toward the darkness, Meg began to carefully make her way through the wheat and down the hill.
When the ground had leveled, Meg had noticed several odd things. For one, her skin was of a different tone; it was lighter than she remembered it, as well, her perception was altered, as if she had grown taller. One thing was certain; Meg no longer felt as if she was in her own skin. Putting the idea of locating a mirror aside, she took the time to step in a circle, noting the crimson smears in the sky. Glaring suspiciously for a moment, she halted abruptly and turned to make her way to the trees. When she had reached the nearest one, Meg examined what was supposed to be bark. Though, it appeared much different, in fact all the trees appeared thus from her close proximity. Curiously, Meg reached out and brushed her hand across the trunk of the black tree, drawing back her hand to examine it. There were black smudges along her hand, and it took her only a moment to realize it was charcoal. Her eyes widened subtly in surprise, and with a faint smile, she reached to write her name on the tree in amusement. When finished, Meg brushed a hand carelessly off on the white dress. After all, it was not her dress, and she believed it was not her own body. At present, she had no idea where or who she was currently, but in her mind she was Meg Giry. Mostly. Meg paused thoughtfully, before losing interest and sidestepping from the tree to peer through the withered trucks. Through the charcoal trees, she could see the shimmer of water. Perhaps there was a lake of some sort? With this thought, Meg stepped forward but stopped almost immediately. The darkness the trees created made her uneasiness return, and Meg scowled. Whoever this person was, she was certainly not as audacious as herself. With an exaggerated sigh, Meg turned her back on the trees, treading away from them and heading in the other direction. She had to find some way out of here, and through the trees seemed to have been productive enough to start some action from this place. Perhaps Erik was nearby? She could call for him. Meg paused; glancing around and guessed it to be a fine idea; in any case, she was anxious to hear whoever's voice she possessed.
As Meg opened her mouth to yell Erik's name- the call of another name had interrupted. "Christine!"
