Sorry for the long wait in between updates. I had Strep Throat, and then tons of make up work from school. Then it turns out that my anti-biotic didn't stamp out the infection all of the way, and I had to go through a week of throat pains all over again. It's been beautiful.
So now I update and I look forward to many, many get well soon reviews. Oh yes, satisfy my insatiable vanity and review about the story as well!
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine. It's all ALW, Kay, and Leroux!
Chapter Five
The Best Laid Plans
Erik saw red.
Dimly in the background he could make out Christin's furious protests, and enraged commands for him to stop. He of course listened as good as could be expected from a former felon, meaning, he completely ignored her. He had only one thing on his mind. Aria and Phillipe. He had known thatshe wasn't ready for this. He had known! But did anyone listen, noooo. She had to go on her oh-so-cute-I-can't-believe-you're-finally-grown-up date, with her adorable young man. Humph. No one eversuspected the quiet ones.
Or the rich ones he thought with a amused smirk to himself.
The one thought that comforted him that this worked strongly in his favor. After this there would be no question next time a boy came calling. He'd just have to say no, and then the subject would be dropped. Sweet and simple. Aria would live in dateless, boyless, Amish existence until the day he died.
After that he would have to carry on his wishes threw a will . . .
Dimly he heard Christine behind him, and he did his best to ignore her. The last thing that he needed right now was her being the conscious that he never wanted to begin with. A few quick turns here and there, disappearing threw a trapdoor on the left before sprinting up a stair case on the right, and he eventually lost her in the dark labyrinth that used to be his home.
A evil grin cut across his face.
That boy had no idea who he was dealing with.
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Christine stared at her fleeing husband. What could have gotten into him? Everything hd been goiing so well. She actually had been enjoying herself. Then out of nowhere he had takken off like a bat out of hell. The lasso clutched tightly in his hands, and a murderous expression marring his masked face.
She panicked.
She had said no more murders.
No more murders, and by God she had meant every word of it. She stopped in bewilderment as the tunnel split off into five different directions. She groaned in frustration, this really wasn't good.
She swallowed hard as Nadir came up next to her.
"Where could he have gone?" She asked in frustration.
"Box eleven." Nadir answered. "On the Grand Teir. Really not a bad seat. I mean it has nothing on Box Five, but it is a very nice seat nonetheless."
Christine gave a scowl that Erik would have been proud of. "Why would he be going there?" A look of worry replaced the ugly grimace as understanding finally hit. "Oh no, he found them."
"Oh yes he found them." Nadir confirmed.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Christine asked.
"It means that they were close enough to seriously endanger the Vicomte's health if Erik manages to get there before us."
Christine cursed. She had trusted Aria, had vouched for her repeatedly. Never again. Never. If she needed a relationship that bad, then they might consider looking into a arranged marriage. Something simple, and loveless. No more dating. Not now. Not ever.
"What's the quickest way to get there?" Christine asked. Nadir had kept tabs on Erik for a very long time. It was really possible that he retained more knowledge of these tunnels than she did.
As she asked Nadir surveyed the tunnels before them, trying to look for a familiar landmark, or something to just give him a clue to where they were. Finally he said, "To tell you the truth, I have no idea. I mean, it's been eighteen years."
Christine sighed. "You're a big help."
"I don't see you coming up with anything better." Nadir countered.
"The majority of my time in these tunnels was spent unconscious." Christine snapped, and Nadir had to try and hide a grin. Erik had often complained about that.
Christine glared before turning to the nearest tunnel. "Some detective you are. Come on."
Nadir bristled as he followed his friend's wife. "My job was easy until I had to keep tabs on a ghost." Yet inwardly he smiled. He doubted that even Sherlock Holmes would have been able to keep up with Erik's dubious dealings.
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As Erik moved threw the lst trapdoor that led him to the Grand Teir he winced at the torch light hit him. His luminous eyes had adjusted to the pitch blackness of the tunnels, and the contrast between his familiar domain, and the world above was not a welcome one.
Keeping to the shadows of the deserted corridor he moved silently, and unnoticed. He noticed with a morbid satisfaction the thrill that ran threw him after years absence at stalking.
He would never admit how much he had missed this.
The overture started, and he paused to listen. Faust, he recognized the tune almost immediately, and he smiled.
Oh how fitting.
He walked further as the music streamed threw his body, and he started humming along. Abruptly he stopped mid-measure as the lead Baritone player hit a flat note. He winced. That note again. There it was. . . Playing over and over again. . . He took a deep calming breath. He was not the Opera Ghost no more. He was not here to fix the Opera Populare's numerous orchestra problems. He was simply a very overprotective father spying on his daughter. Now the trouble was him trying to remember this.
He sighed, the Baritone player would have to wait.
Feeling slightly more at ease he released a breath that he hadn't even noticed that he had been holding. All was well, he'd simply snap the boys neck, and then leave.
The flat A from the Baritone player hit his sensitive ears, and he snarled.
That's it! Someone was going to be strangled!
As soon as he was about to change his course he paused. The box sign next to him . . . Box Eleven!
The Baritone player was promptly forgotten.
He heard a male voice come from the box, and he was momentarily confused. From the few minuted that he had spent with the Vicomte he really didn't remember his voice sounding like that. He shrugged. Oh well.
He pulled an ornate candle holder across the hallway and smiled as a trapdoor opened up to him. This was going to be just like old times.
Reminiscing is good.
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OK I know it was short, but I ended up with a really long chapter and had to cut it off somewhere.
So read and review!
MJ
