Chapter 15- The Uninvited Guest

"I'm afraid that I can only give you half an answer to that." Said Erik, choosing his words carefully. "So, if you wish to hear it in full detail then I am afraid that you will have to wait."

Christine did not feel like pressing the matter any further. She was still taking in all that Erik had told her about his childhood. He had told her that it may be too much and it nearly was.

"Christine?"

"Hmmm? Sorry, I was just…" She paused, staring blankly at Porsche, who was curled up in an armchair. "…thinking."

"Please don't brood about this too much. What's done is done, and thinking about it won't change anything." Erik's voice was calm, but Christine sensed that he thought he had told her too much. "You look tired…"

"I do?" Christine said, unable to stifle a yawn. Erik smiled.

"Come on Porsche… oh great." Erik spotted the sleeping cat. "Lazy thing." He said, scooping up Porsche into his arms.

Christine walked alongside Erik to the familiar guest room. Once there, Erik put Porsche down on the floor, but had to pick her up again straight away as she had curled up to go to sleep again.

"What am I going to do with you, eh?" He said to the cat, scratching her behind the ears. Christine couldn't help but giggle as she walked over to the bed. Erik then proceeded to dump Porsche on the chair in the far corner of the room.

"Goodnight Erik." Said Christine as Erik walked over to the door.

"Goodnight Christine" And with that, he closed the door. He was feeling better than he ever had in his entire life, which he thought was mainly due to the hug.

He was in such a dreamy state, that it took him about a minute before he realised that he was being watched. Turning round, he saw Daroga, who was wearing a very boyish grin.

"I thought you had left." Said Erik, a bit annoyed that Daroga had been listening to their conversation. Daroga obviously noticed this.

"Don't worry. I've only just got back. I just heard you say goodnight." Erik seemed to calm down a bit at this, but still looked questioningly at the Persian. "Oh, and I couldn't get out. People were wandering around in the entrance hall, so I couldn't get out there. I couldn't tell with the second floor corridor but it sounded like that toad, what's her name…"

"Carlotta?"

"Yes that's the one. She was talking to Piangi and I couldn't use the mirror because Antoinette's child was skulking around Christine's room." He looked at Erik, who, Daroga was pleased to see, looked as though he believed him.

"What was Meg doing in there?" He asked.

"Nothing much, it looked as though she was looking for something. I can't imagine her stealing from Christine though."

There was a long pause. Erik and Daroga both went to the kitchen and sat down. Daroga's boyish grin reappeared.

"So…?" Erik was really tempted to say 'so what?', but thought better of it. He knew exactly what 'So?' meant.

"She took it surprisingly well." Stated Erik.

"Oh I don't think that it is that much of a surprise." Replied Daroga, a wry grin on his face. "I mean… she is very fond of you."

Erik nearly dropped the cup he had in his hand. Christine? Fond of him? Daroga, seeing that Erik was in deep thought, just continued to grin, causing Erik to say, rather slyly…

"If she is fond of me then how is it that she nearly took my head off with a sword?"

"Oh, that was before you explained everything to her. I mean, you can barely talk. If you're in a mood with anyone you just hang them! Or…" Daroga gave a very noticeable shudder. "You throw them in… there." He pointed at a very old looking door. The wood of the frame was rotting, and there was a cobweb on the large keyhole. He had a look on his face as though remembering something very painful. Erik noticed this.

"That was your fault, Daroga, not mine." He had just finished making two cups of tea. Daroga hadn't noticed him making them. The thought of whatever was in this room was clearly still a painful one.

"When was the last time you actually checked…well…that place." Asked Daroga, gesturing once more towards the door.

"Whenever it is impossible for me to pretend that I can't hear the screams." Replied Erik in a very sinister tone.

Daroga started to drink his cup of tea, still staring uneasily at the door. Erik was staring blankly in front of him.

"What are you thinking about?" Asked Daroga.

"Hmmm? Oh, I was just thinking of lyrics for my 'Don Juan Triumphant'" He replied, though Daroga was not entirely sure that he was being truthful.

Daroga drank the last of his tea, set it down on the table, then walked over to the exit from the kitchen.

"I'm going to try the way out into the entrance hall again. It's getting late, and I doubt that anyone will actually be around in there." He nodded politely to Erik. "Thank you for not going mad when you found out that I was still here."

"Anytime, old friend, anytime." Erik walked over to Daroga and shook his hand. "Until we meet again."

"I'm sure that I will be back very soon. By the way… you don't happen to know what the next production is going to be, do you?"

"I heard the managers saying something about 'Faust'. Well, whatever it is, it's going to be much better without Joseph Bouquet as the stage manager." Erik's face darkened at the thought of Bouquet.

"OK, thank you Erik. I will see you in the near future I hope."

Daroga then turned and left. Erik was so deep in thought that he didn't realise just how tired he was. He went to his room, got undressed, and settled into bed, still deep in thought. He could not remember the last thing that he thought as he drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

I know that there is something in here that you are hiding from me Christine…

Meg was still searching Christine's room, even though she was not entirely sure what se was looking for. She knew that when she found it however, she would know. Meg spent a lot of time looking through Christine's desk drawers, convinced that there would be something in there that shouldn't be, but she was disappointed just to find parchment, quills, ink, lots of screwed up notes that seemed to be lines from previous productions, and jewellery.

"Grrrr, I know you are hiding something from me Christine, and I am going to find it." Meg had a habit of thinking out loud, but even by doing so it did not help her think what Christine could possibly be hiding from her.

Come to think of it… where is Christine?

This thought had only just occurred to Meg. She knew that she had definitely walked in the general direction of her room, was even pretty sure that she went in it. It was actually a stroke of luck that she wasn't in it. It meant that Meg was free to look around without suspicion.

"OOOOOWWWW!" Meg had just caught her foot on the edge of the bed. Cursing, she sat down against the wall, massaging her throbbing toe. "Perhaps…it's best… that I just… talk with Christine." She thought out loud. She leant back against the wall, but instead, fell straight on her back. Meg thought that she had been leaning against the wall, but she hadn't. She had been leaning against the large mirror and it had gone…

"Isn't it funny…" She said to herself. "That when you are looking for something, you always seem to find it in the last place that you look…oh but…" A sudden thought just occurred to her. "I suppose it would have to be, because…you wouldn't continue looking…oh well, I've found something!" She boomed the last three words triumphantly, and a pack of rats came scuttling by her feet. It took all of her self control not to scream.

She walked down the gloomy passage, then thought that she better take a candle. She turned to go back to Christine's room and get one, only to find that, to her horror, the mirror had slid back into place.

I will just have to wait for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. That's all, and besides, a little darkness never hurt anyone.

She again started to walk down the passageway into the unknown. Fortunately there were no turns and so all she had to do was follow the passageway. Eventually she came to a very large spiral staircase, which seemed to go down for miles.

Well, there's no use hanging about. I should try to get to the bottom of this… if there is a bottom.

She started to walk down the stairs, counting as she went…10, 20, 50, 100, 200…

"Yes… absolute…" She was gasping for breath. "…miles." She then paused so that she could catch her breath. "Right… 262, 263, 264, 265." She started to jump two at a time. "267, 269, 271… I must be near the bottom by now I must be… 273, 275, 277." She started to run down the steps as fast as she could, still counting. The last thing she remembered was counting two hundred and ninety seven…

Christine woke up to a soft purring sound. It was evident that Porsche had managed to get off the chair and snuggle in with Christine.

"Good morning puss. Sleep well?" Porsche meowed in reply, which Christine took for a yes. She glanced over at the clock. It was 8 in the morning. "Well, let's go and get the two of us some breakfast, eh?" She scratched behind Porsche's ears as she continued to purr gently.

She put Porsche down on the floor, got dressed, then went over to the door and opened it. She went into the kitchen. Erik didn't appear to be up yet. Not wanting to disturb him, she got Porsche some milk, and then pondered over what to get for herself. Not really knowing Erik's kitchen that well, she just watched Porsche lap up her milk.

Half an hour had passed. Christine's stomach was really starting to annoy her now, and it left her no choice but to go and wake Erik from his slumber. She walked down the corridor to his room, knocked twice, but got no answer and so she knocked again.

He must be a really heavy sleeper. She thought to herself. Opening the door, she went inside.

"Erik?" She said. "Erik… are you awake?" There was a grunt from the bed, which Christine took for a yes. She thought it was very unusual. It was usually Erik that was awake first, cooking breakfast by the time she was up and moving.

"What time is it?" He asked, he sounded exhausted.

"It's half past eight." Answered Christine. At this, Erik sat up.

"Oh damn, sorry, I didn't realise the time…" He got up, he was obviously either too tired or in too much of a rush to notice that he was nearly naked in front of Christine. She couldn't help but admire how well built he was. She had always imagined him to be very slim.

"I'll go and, umm… wait in the kitchen shall I?" She asked, trying not to blush or make it seem as though she would rather stay.

"Yes, if you want." He said, pulling on his black shirt. Christine had only just noticed that he still had his mask on, which was a surprise. She would have thought that he would have taken it off while he slept.

"Erik, you know that you don't have to wear that mask in front of me don't you?" She said, Erik paused for a moment, opened his mouth, closed it again, then opened it.

"I'm just, used to wearing it now." His voice was very sullen as he spoke. "And I'm sure that it would be better for me to wear it in front of you."

"I would rather see the real you than a mask." She walked over to him, reaching a hand out to the right side of his face; she had just begun to pull the mask away from his face when there was an ear-splitting scream. Erik looked up at once.

"Oh no." He said quietly, and then he bolted out of the door as quickly as possible, Christine sprinting to keep up.

"Who… Where?" She said, running behind him.

"I don't know who, but I do know where." He said. They reached an old door with a rotten frame. Christine looked very uneasily at the door.

"What's in there?" Her voice was shaking; it seemed that whatever was behind this door was going to be something terrible.

Erik sighed as he picked up a silver key from under a tile. "The Oubliette." He replied in a monotone.

"A what?" Christine had no idea what an 'Oubliette' was, but was sure that it could not be anything good.

Erik brushed away some cobwebs from the keyhole, fitted the key into the lock, then tried to turn it, with what appeared to be great difficulty.

"In short, it's a place where you put people and forget about them." He tried to turn the key again, still with no success. "But in this case, it is a place where any intruders will end up. There's a trap in every entrance down to this place which ends up here."

Christine thought for a moment, and then remembered the first time she ever came down to his lair. She had nearly fallen through a trapdoor on her way down the massive spiral staircase, and had been careful to avoid it ever since.

"So it's a prison?" She asked.

"Not so much a prison… more a sort of cage. Not many people manage to find their way down here. I think the last count of people in the Oubliette was three, two of whom were detectives, and one an accompanying officer." There was a click, and the door swung open.

It was pitch black inside the room. Erik clicked his fingers and as if by magic, torches lit up all around the room. The room seemed to be a perfect square, on the walls hung the lit torches, in the centre of the room, and taking up most of the space, was a large cage. Standing in the cage was none other than Meg Giry.

"THE PHANTOM…"

"Of the opera. Yes I know who I am thank you." Said Erik, cutting her off. He had a fire in his eyes which Christine had never seen before. It was half rage, half pity.

"CHRISTINE!" Meg ran up to the edge of the cage, as did Christine. Meg flung her arms round her best friend through the bars of the cage, tears streaking down her face.

"I don't remember inviting you down here young Giry." Said Erik plainly. Christine was quite sure that it was only because of her friendship with Meg that she wasn't already dead yet.

"Christine…" Said Meg, very quietly. "What are you… why are you with…" She made a very weak gesture towards Erik.

"I'll explain in a minute. Just hang on." She let go of Meg. "Erik…" She said turning towards him. "Could you be so kind as to let her out?"

"I could indeed." Erik replied. "I'll be speaking to your mother about this Meg." He walked over to the nearest torch, pulled it down, and the cage began to sink into the floor. Two skeletons which had been leaning against the side of the cage fell, and Meg gave a small squeak.

"My…" She sniffed. "My mother?"

"Your mother knows about Erik." Said Christine, wrapping her arms around Meg again.

"And I hope that you can see now why she didn't tell you." Cut in Erik, gesturing to the hole in the ceiling, which Meg must have fallen through. "It's a miracle you're still in one piece."

Meg didn't say anything; she was in shock at everything, her mother, Christine, The Phantom of the Opera… It all seemed too much.

"You're bleeding…" Christine pointed at Meg's leg.

"It's not bad."

"Come on. Let's get out of this room and get you cleaned up." Christine was very surprised to hear Erik speak those words.

With a little help from Christine and Erik, Meg managed to get to the kitchen and sit down. Erik handed Christine a damp cloth.

"I'll leave you to do this. I had best go and find Antoinette." He got up and walked over to the door. "And for future reference, there is a quicker way than the stairs to get down here. It is easier to show than tell, but I dare say you won't be leaving right this minute." This last piece of information startled Christine. Erik noticed this. "I added the finishing touches to it just before you came down." He said to her, and with that, he left.

"You've got a lot of explaining to do." Said Meg and Christine, at the same time. They often said the same thing at the same time without meaning to. They both laughed, Meg a little nervously, as if trying to bury the emotions that she was currently feeling.

Porsche moved over to the two of them. "I always knew there was something about that cat!" Christine smiled.

"Her name's Porsche." She said. "And in case you didn't know, that was Erik, also known as 'The Phantom of the Opera.'"