Chapter Title: The First Meeting
If there was a worse feeling than waking up cold and confused on a hard floor it was waking up cold and confused and unable remember where the damn bathroom was. For a minute, the throbbing head, the unfamiliar surroundings, and the sense of confusion made him think that he'd lost even more of his memory. But as he sat up and caught sight of himself in the mirror it all came rushing back, well maybe not all, but as much as he'd had upon arriving at the Opera Populaire. And then he'd walked out of the room, gone down a hallway and… he'd ended up here.
He'd been looking for a bathroom, a bathroom for goodness sake! And here was the real blow to his pride, he'd found one, and then he'd gotten lost on his way back to Christine's room. He sighed and looked around the room yet again. It was huge, filled with props from performances gone by, dusty and obviously one of the few parts of the theater untouched by the fire. The door couldn't have just disappeared he thought angrily.
As odd as this place is it can't possibly- His train of thought was derailed as something white floated down in front of him. He looked down at the folded piece of paper for a moment and then glanced around suspiciously.
"Hello?" he said. No one answered. Raoul sighed and bent down to pick up the paper. He opened the slip of paper and read it. And then he looked up again.
"Is this a joke?" he called.
Leave the note read. It was signed O.G.
There was no response for a few seconds, almost long enough for Raoul to start seriously considering the possibility that this was a dream, but then a voice came out of the air above him. It was a rich voice, lovely to listen to, but the tone was angry and almost condescending.
"You needn't bother keeping up the charade, you're speaking to a master of deception, Vicomte," it said, "I don't know what you expect to get out of this ridiculous ploy, but rest assured it shall not work. Honestly, how did you ever come up with this? And why? I certainly hope you aren't somehow blaming me for Christine's death. I let her go because you said you'd protect her from everything."
There was another few seconds silence while Raoul digested this information, and then, after careful review, he came up with a response.
"What?"
"Oh don't play coy!" The voice said, and suddenly it wasn't just in the rafters, it was behind him and beside him and echoing throughout the entire hall. It was almost frightening the way that voice filled up all the air around him, like if he breathed he'd take it into his own lungs.
And it made Raoul angry.
"Who do you think you are, monsieur?" he said angrily, "Playing a silly game like this, I could have you arrested for being here."
Erik growled low in the back off his throat, "You wish to play a game, you foolish child?" he whispered to himself, "Fine, let us play."
"I'm the Opera Ghost of course.," he shouted to the child below him, "O.G."
Raoul gave a derisive snort. "Oh really."
Erik's eyes narrowed. "Yes. Really."
"I don't believe you."
"My heart is breaking." Erik said dryly, "You don't have to believe me."
"I demand that you show yourself!"
Erik glared at the young man in front of him, his temper growing shorter by the minute. "No." He gritted out through clenched teeth.
"Why?" Raoul taunted, "Afraid I'll expose your little 'Ghost' game?"
Erik seethed. This was too much. Did the child actually think brave words would convince him? He would show the little fool how unprepared he was to take on the Phantom.
"Hmm? Who are you really?" Raoul continued to taunt, unaware of the dark shadow detaching itself from the rafters and circling silently behind him.
"Ah ha!" Raoul yelled triumphantly as he yanked a covering cloth away from a huge piece of scenery. A fiery scene from hell greeted him, complete with painted black demons clutching their human prey, smiles of devious harm on their misshapen faces. Raoul frowned.
"Come now," he said as he started to turn around, "At least tell me your name, unless your afra-" he cut off as he was slammed into the sturdy scenery by one of the painted demons come to life.
"Erik," hissed the demon as he circled a length of rope around the Vicomte's neck. "I doubt you'll ever have a chance to use it."
The noose itself, had he been expecting it, wouldn't have posed such a problem, but the man in front of him, this Erik, had his entire body pinned to the wall, the air forced out him by the strength of the hit. It took a little over 45 seconds all told, for him to run out of air and strength to fight. Then, with black dots dancing in front of his eyes, he heard another voice whispering something in the back of his mind. A woman's voice softly singing, oh so softly, like the breath of memory
Think of me, think of me fondly when we've said good bye, remember me-
And then the voice changed and flowed into another melody, a duet with one other voice melting with hers… Erik let up suddenly and Raoul gasped and collapsed to his knees. Erik turned to go and Raoul grabbed his pant leg.
"Stop," he croaked out. And for a moment Erik was actually stunned into doing just that. He turned and gave a disbelieving look to the little idiot who had somehow managed to scramble to his feet, using the wall for support.
"Stop," he said again and anger flare in Erik at being commanded in so sure a tone but Raoul took no notice and continued speaking, "I know you, I know your voice, I –"
Erik slammed him back into the wall, a fist clenched into the soft material of Raoul's shirt. "So you admit it!"
"I just remembered your voice!" Raoul choked out, "I… I heard you, singing, with a woman, and I knew, I knew that she was Christine. I'm positive, it must have been her!" Erik tried to pull away but Raoul grabbed for him, "Please, you knew her, tell me how!"
"Get off me you stupid child!" Erik roared and yanked his arm up violently and away.
This would have been the end of it if he hadn't been choking Raoul to death only a few seconds ago, or if Raoul hadn't lunged away from his wall support trying to hold onto Erik. But he had and Raoul had and it just so happened that Raoul's unbalanced body toppled forward into Erik's likewise unbalance body and both stumbled into a giant rocking horse. Erik moved his head down trying to grab at the reins and Raoul moved his head up to say something to him and with a mysterious set of coincidences (that people often call fate) their lips met.
Erik was the first to recover. Well, perhaps recover was not the word, but he was the first to react on instinct, which he had become quite good at. He shoved the fool away and into a pile of old costumes, and by the time Raoul had struggled back out he was long gone.
Author Note: I just wanted to say… something actually happens in this chapter. It's exciting. It means the chapters after this will be more fun to write. Also, this chapter is dedicated to two people, Psychonerd5 and shadowsaremyfortress. You guys rock, I can't begin to tell you how nice it is to get your reviews every chapter. I actually considered not updating if you guys didn't review. I was like, what's the point? (I was feeling pretty insecure about the fic as you can tell) Thanks again to my Beta Alchemy Hael, once again folks, go read her fic! It's not POTO but it's cute and slashy and all that good stuff that makes ya go Mmm.