This is a rather dark chapter - no Erik...sorry; but there is humor in the beginning.

This chapter is a little shorter than most of the previous ones, forgive me.

DARK SIDE OF THE GLASS

CHAPTER 24

Richard and Gilles were running over themselves trying to get the necessary props needed for the newest Lacroix production. They were anxious and excited, and neither emotion was eliciting the proper behavior for the moment.

"He has been here just over two weeks and we already have twice as much publicity than we had in an entire two years while he was gone. It seems the city has opened their arms to him."

Gilles agreed, but could not concentrate entirely on what Richard was saying, as he had somehow wound his feet up in a long piece of cloth. He frantically pulled at it, but it only seemed to get worse with each tug.

"Oh do sit down, Andre, or you will fall and break something important…." A grin spread across Firmin's aging, but still quite youthful, face. "…and you could hurt yourself, as well."

The smaller man mockingly snickered, but found a nearby chair and sat down, hoping somehow to disentangle himself from the horrid piece of cloth. He finally resorted to removing his shoes and found, much to his dismay, that this did not quite do what he had hoped it would do.

Richard rolled his eyes and strolled over to his friend. He shoved the man back into the chair and proceeded slowly to remove the silky culprit.

It was all he could do not to laugh; Gilles was the best friend he had ever had, but the man was virtually useless in all areas – except numbers; he was one of the most brilliant mathematical minds Richard had ever known – possibly matched only by the Phantom – or Erik, as he preferred to be called these days.

"Thank you, my friend; I feared that silky snake was going to be the end of me."

Richard stood straight, with his arms crossed, and a most disgusted look on his face.

"Andre, you are – without a doubt – one of the most accident prone people I have ever known…" he made a clicking sound with his tongue that he knew Gilles found very annoying, "…do you suppose you can find your way back to the office and come up with a figure to give Erik concerning the new costumes?"

In return for his snide teasing, Richard received a cold, blank stare. However, just as quickly as his face had gone blank, Andre lifted his head and his face wrinkled up in a questioning frown.

"Who do you suppose will be our new diva…the Vicomtess is no longer available, and we really have no other to cast."

"I would not know, my friend; that is Erik's line of expertise. He has full control over casting issues."

"Rumor has it that his ward, Tarrah, is quite the little diva. She was the main star in London and they sold more tickets in one season than the Populaire has in the last four seasons."

Richard had heard this, but was not sure how the former Mademoiselle Daae would react to having her coveted position usurped by her former teacher's current star student and ward.

"She really is quite lovely, and the way she talks is very endearing."

Richard took the glove that was hanging in his pocket and swatted Gilles in the arm. His frown was dark and full of warning.

"She is far too young for you, Gilles – and she is Erik's daughter, or she is like a daughter to him – be careful about the ground upon which you tread."

Gilles pursed his lips and regarded Richard with a baleful look.

"I know that, Richard, I am not a fool. I was simply commenting on the attributes that the young lady possesses – attributes that would be to her advantage as the diva."

"Fine." Richard spat.

"Fine." Gilles spat back.

♦♥♠♣

Christine had only wanted to say good-bye to her dressing room and all the memories it held. There were moments of fear and fancy; tears and laughter; songs and silence – moments that would forever be a part of her.

The picture of her father was the last thing she packed up and his soulful eyes stared back at her from the antique frame.

"Oh papa…I have the two men I love the most in my life, but I need your help."

She dropped her eyes and closed them, allowing the tears to sting the back of her eyes. In the past four years, Christine had talked to her father more and more. The years before, her Angel had filled the void her father had left; giving her the peace and warmth with his voice and music that Gustav had given her with his presence.

Erik's abrupt exit from her life had left her more devastated than she would have ever believed. He had been her father, her teacher, and her best friend for nine years – and suddenly he was no longer there.

She had never told him any of this – which made her hurt even more. He had believed the worst of her; thinking she could not bear the sight of his deformed features; when in truth, after the initial shock was gone – it had not mattered.

In the days following her first trip to the Phantom's lair, Raoul had begun his courting and they had quickly fallen in love. How she had longed to share that feeling with her angel father; and she longed even more for him to be happy for her.

Christine thought back on the second trip she had made to his lair, at her request; hoping to gain his approval about Raoul. However, Erik had declared his intent to court her himself; even showing her a mannequin resembling her with a beautiful wedding gown he had designed.

And what did you do, Christine, you ran…that is what you did. You ran like a scared child back to the chaotic world above ground and did not talk to him for weeks.

Her own voice chastised her…making her tears flow even more in the silence of the room.

You left him there to make up his own theory about why you left – why you denied giving him even one reason for turning him down.

When next she saw him, he was dressed like Red Death and he carried himself with an elegant fury she had never seen in him; he was magnificent – he was scorned – he was dead inside.

Everything that happened after that night had been a countdown to disaster. The graveyard had been the final threshold for Raoul and he had almost plunged a sword through Erik's heart – and Erik had not moved to stop him.

I stopped him…I had to…I could not bear the thought of a world without my Angel…what a dreadful place it would be.

She packed up the final items and went to go get Raoul. He would carry the items out and her life in the opera house would exist no more.

She gently placed her hand over her womb and smiled. She would have to remember to ask Erik if he would be willing to teach her children as he had taught her…there was nothing she wanted more, except for him to find love and happiness.

♥♣♦♠

The meticulous calculating had paid off and the final, and most important, victim dangled by the throat in front of Pieter; suspended by the large, strong hand of a one-man brute force.

"Where did you find such a magnificent monster?"

The admiration in Pieter's voice was close to hero worship, but he reserved that honor for only one man…and he was closer to a reunion with him with every passing moment.

"It is of no concern of yours where I find my minions…just trust that he will do my bidding without question."

Pieter did not really care where such a beast was found, nor did he appreciate being talked to like a child – not even by a nobleman.

However, he could play the docile boy…if is helped him achieve his goal. Pieter stood behind the man he only knew as Yves and caressed the man with his voice.

"What do we do with him?"

Yves smiled malevolently and turned to the younger man.

"First, he watches..." he crooned, "...then he participates, and then…." Yves turned to the terrified, suspended man with the most sickening, sweet smile, "…he dies."

Pieter practically swooned from the anticipation. He had not "participated" with anyone in a very long time; the last few weeks had been a glorious dose of foreplay with Yves…a man that exuded almost as much sensual power and beauty as Erik…but not near the absolute genius.

While they "played" with the captive, four other men and two women with slashed throats died in various places in the hospital…Pieter had made sure the plan was executed during the mid-morning hours, between 2 am and 4 am, when the guards were down to three, the nurses were down to two, and doctors were down to two.

Of course, the other patients were unaware of the painful and humiliating treatment their doctor was undergoing – his screams echoed emptily off the walls of Pieter's room. After his initiation into the world of the forbidden, the doctor was dressed in Pieter's clothes and Pieter's armband was placed on him as the final deception. Just before Pieter slit his throat, the doctor pleaded for his life.

"Please, I have a family…a wife and children."

Pieter cared not, and the knife sliced evenly and quickly, severing the main artery, he would be dead in moments.

"Believe me, my good man, after what we did to you; they will not want you back."

The fire that followed burned everyone within the building; patients, doctors, nurses…of course, no one knew that that the guards, nurses and doctors had all been dead before the fire…and the patients were burned alive.

The missing doctor…a Doctor Talbot, was considered the only suspect in the fire, but he seemed to have disappeared without leaving a trail.

Pieter and Yves reclined at Yves' country estate, planning their next move. They had become more than lovers, they were friends, comrades, partners in crime.

"I want that opera house destroyed…Garnier will suffer most when it is nothing but rubble on the ground."

Pieter laughed at the bitter hatred he heard in Yves' voice.

"Why do you despise him so much?"

"Because he dared to defy me…years ago."

The malevolent tone in the nobleman's words reeked of an old, festering hatred that should have been forgotten long ago.

"Defied you?"

Yves smirked, looking like pure evil – dark and ravenous.

"The one you seek…think about him and you will have your answer."

Pieter narrowed his eyes at the tall, regal figure of the man who stood magnificently before him. His blood surged lustfully in a way that only one other had ever managed…and he relished it with great reverence.

"Erik…what has he to do with any of this?" Pieter suspiciously inquired, "I do not want him hurt…" and then he smiled evilly, "…unless I am the one doing the hurting."

Yves matched the evil in Pieter's smile, and advanced on the younger man.

"I will tell you…my love…be patient."

What followed was nothing but heat and fire, spurred on by greed and lust. Pieter relished the way his body came alive from the touch of this man…he could only imagine what wonderful bliss awaited him when Erik was the one doing the touching; what ecstasy to tame his wild spirit and harness his genius…yes, that would be heaven on earth.

TBC

These two give me the creeps...but I must write them as I see them...sorry if I am making your stomachs nauseated; that is really the reaction I am going for. Jackie