Hey everybody! Thanks for stopping by to read the new chapter and thanks to my two reviewers - you guys rock my sox! Anyway here it is, the next enstallment of Ghosts of the Past.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Moulin Rouge. I do however own the soundtrack and my character, Juliet Morgan.

Enjoy!

Gates barred the entrance, but beyond them, Juliet could see decrepit buildings that still retained some of their original splendour. A large elephant stood in the middle of the garden area and in front of that was a windmill. Debris littered the cobblestone streets. Strands of old electric lights hung from the buildings, untouched for decades.

Juliet leaned against the gates, trying to imagine the way it had looked in its prime. Curiously, as she leaned against the gates, she felt herself falling forward. She realized that she really was falling forward. Her weight made the gates swing open. The lock and chain that had restricted the entrance lay on the ground. If it had not been for the other strange incidents, Juliet would have been scared out of her mind. However, since she had seen the man in the mirror, Juliet just rolled her eyes, stepped through the threshold and said,

"I get the message."

The light from the streetlights bled into the gated area giving it an eerie felling. Juliet stepped around a crumbling wall that surrounded a Gothic tower. Faint music came from a building behind the elephant. At first, Juliet figured that a bunch of kids had gotten in somehow, but then she remembered that the gates had been locked and there was no other visible way to get in. Cautiously, she made her way to the main building's doors. The singing was becoming clearer and Juliet could hear that it was an upbeat tune with a woman singing in some sort of foreign language.

Some of the streetlights shone in through holes in the ceiling and walls. What caught her attention was the fact that there was an enormous production going on in front of an audience of at least a hundred men and women all dressed in the high fashion of the late 1800s. Speechless, Juliet watched the strange Indian-style dance. The dancers parted and the sound of a woman vocalizing filled the air.

A decorated platform began to rise to the stage. Some of the audience members stood and applauded. Juliet was confused as to what the audience was cheering for; the platform was empty. As the platform kept ascending, the performers and the audience began to fade. The vocalizing the people had completely disappeared and all that was left was a broken building.

"She never appears, you know."

Juliet's eyes grew wide as she turned to find the speaker. She had been sure that she was alone.

I turned to find a handsome young man looking at me curiously. He was dressed in a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, a vest, and dark grey trousers. The clothes were slightly disheveled, as was his dark brown hair. His voice was pleasant with a soft English accent. There was only one thing that unnerved me; light shone right through him and he cast no shadow.

"Who are you?"

He stuck out his hand.

"Christian."

She reached out to take his hand, but her own hand went right through it. Juliet uttered a small shriek and Christian mumbled a curse.

"Sorry. It takes a while to get used to the materializing. I haven't done it in ages."

He screwed his eyes shut, like he was he was concentrating very hard and his hand grew more solid. One of his eyes opened to see if that had done the trick. Seeing that it had, he opened his other eye and held out his hand again. They shook hands and Juliet noticed that there was something familiar about this man.

"You seem very familiar. Have I seen your somewhere before?"

"Um, I don't think so."

Christian did not meet her eyes as he answered. Juliet peered closer at his face.

"You!" Christian cringed a bit. "You're the one I saw earlier today. What were you doing in my apartment? Is that how you get your kicks? By scaring people?"

Christian rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

"I-I'm terribly sorry about that, but I had to catch your attention somehow. He grinned at her hopefully. Juliet crossed her arms over her chest.

"Explain."

"I came here to write, write about love when I fell for Satine. Satine was the star of the Moulin Rouge." Christian explained quickly as if he was afraid that she would stop him and leave. "We fell in love while working on a play, Spectacular, Spectacular, but she-she died young. When I died, I hoped that we'd be together again, but I've been a ghost for over ninety years and I haven't once seen her. I need someone to help me find her again."

He finished, took in a deep breath, and waited for an answer.

"All right." Christian's grin returned to his face. "But, we need to set some ground rules."

"Ground rules?"

"Yes. First, you are to announce your presence. No more surprises. If you want to appear, rap twice."

"On what?"

"Whatever's available. Second, you are to tell me everything that you can remember about this whole affair. Every detail, no matter how small."

"Agreed, but I have a few conditions of my own."

Juliet raised an eyebrow, but let him continue.

"Don't change anything in the apartment. And you have to trust me."

"Is that all?"

Christian nodded, but then stopped suddenly.

"One more thing. I have to know who I'm addressing."

Juliet smiled. "Agreed. I'm Juliet Morgan."

They shook hands again to seal the deal and departed to Juliet's flat.

-X-

After returning to the garret, Christian explained everything n more detail and told her about the vile Duke. Christian left soon after, for the hour was late. Juliet sat curled up underneath a blanket and stared out the windows at the inky black night sky.

Why was Christian still there after all these years? Why was Satine not there? Why her? There were too many questions and not enough answers to satisfy her.

If anything, I figured that to find any answers, I would have to travel back to the Moulin Rough. I had only been there once, but I had not been able to look around properly. That evening I would go back to the Moulin Rouge and try to solve this mystery.

Eventually, her musings lead her to sleep. No dreams entered her mind that night, except one. She was falling to a hard floor in a room lit by gas lamps. A cold figure of a man was standing over her with his hard, cruel eyes gleaming at the fact that she was falling. She wanted to cry out, to scream, but she couldn't. Her head hit the floor and she blacked out.

Her eyes fluttered open and she found that she was still safe in her flat. Darkness still covered the city and no one else was around. A shiver rolled down her spine and she clutched the blanket more tightly until it covered all of her. Her head lolled on her shoulder and she fell asleep once more not to wake until mid-afternoon.