Short chapter this time! Yay! Sorry this was so late, but it's here now, right? Anyway...hugs and a cookie to firebolt669, your first guess as to Edward's origin was correct. Now sit back, relax, read, and review. Enjoy!

I don't own anything related to the Moulin Rouge.

After walking gingerly down the stairs and checking the main performance building, there was only one place left to look-the Gothic Tower. The crumbling ruins looked eerie and foreboding. An aura of the malevolent seemed to hang around the building. It reminded Juliet of the old house at the end of her street, the one everyone said was haunted. There was a chill in the air, even without Christian sucking the energy out of the atmosphere. Juliet shivered, not just because of the cold, but had to go in.

After taking a deep breath, Juliet walked to the threshold with Christian right behind her.

The interior was unlike the rest of the Moulin Rouge, sure, it was falling apart and it was dark, but it was not as decrepit as the other buildings. The stone had preserved the rooms and, fortunately, the stairs. An old, Persian rug had not been so lucky. Holes penetrated the threads at the edges and those edges were frayed. Old tapestries and small paintings held the same fate.

A rat skittered in front of Juliet, causing her to jump back and gasp.

"What is…?"

Slamming into an invisible barrier cut off Christian's words. He fell backwards onto the stone floor with a groan. He flickered in and out like a television with a bad signal. After shuddering a few times, the flickering stopped and he lay on his back with his eyes wide.

"Christian!" Juliet ran to him and kneeled at his side. Christian sat up slightly with his hand on his head and a dazed expression on his face. "Are you okay?"

He closed his eyes trying to make the sensations go away before answering her.

"I'm alright. It just tingles."

He got up with some help from Juliet and placed his hand where the barrier was. Something like a bolt of electricity jolted through his transparent body. Christian looked at the barrier and back at his hand with his surprised expression replaced by a look of wonder.

"I guess this means I'll stay out here, then."

"I guess so."

Juliet waved feebly to him as she disappeared into the stone tower. The stone steps were much sturdier than the wooden ones of the Elephant. She flicked her flashlight on and let the beam guide her. At the end of the stairway was a strong wooden door, which pushed open easily. Inside was much like the rest of the Moulin Rouge, except this room was more furnished. A long, dusty table sat parallel to large leaded windows that overlooked all of the Moulin Rouge. The flashlight beam swung around to see if there was any place to hide typewritten pages. The flashlight beam flickered and began to fade.

"Oh no, no, no, no," she muttered panicked.

The beam went out with only the light from the outside to guide her movements.

"Good evening, Miss Morgan."

My name. How did he know my name? A gaslight on the opposite side of the room flickered to life. I dropped the flashlight and it clattered to the floor. Another gaslight came on.

"Who are you?"

"My underlings call me 'sir' and my superiors call me 'the Duke'."

"The Duke?" She tried not to sound nervous and tried to maintain the status quo.

The last gaslight illuminated this ghost's semi-solid form. He was tall with cruel eyes. His blonde hair fell to just above his shoulders and he sported a neatly trimmed moustache. His clothes were much finer than Christian's, a symbol of the Duke's status. As he advanced, Juliet felt compelled to back away, but she stood her ground.

The door slammed and Juliet whirled around to see a hulking, austere looking bald man, who was also stylishly dressed, standing in front of the door. The ghosts had cut off all of her known exits.

"My manservant, Warner."

The man nodded to acknowledge his introduction. She turned back to the Duke to see him standing quite close to her. He smirked at the fear that had begun to show in her eyes and began to walk around her as he spoke.

"I know you are searching for something. Perhaps I can help you in your little endeavor." He stopped behind her and moved closer to her. She could feel his cold enveloping her as he curled his fingers around her shoulders.

"Is there some special reason you came here?"

Fear seemed to have frozen her body. She could not move, she could not think properly, and she felt bound by invisible ropes.

"The manuscript," she managed to blurt out.

The Duke released his hold on her and Juliet was able to react again. She clutched her arms around her body, shivering from the cold. The Duke had walked in front of her.

"Manuscript?"

"Yes. Christian's manuscript."

The Duke's eyes clouded over and anger flashed through them like lightning. He hated any mention of that insolent writer.

"Christian," he muttered darkly. He turned his attention to Juliet. "Why would I have anything of Christian's?" His anger began to mount and his glare made her cower. "You waltz in here uninvited, and think that I would have something of that whelp's?"

Juliet backed into a wall and found that she had no place left to go. She was so taken aback at the Duke's outburst that she did not notice Warner's movements.

"Warner, take care of our guest."

"But do you have any idea…"

Before she could finish her request, a transparent hand clapped over her mouth and an arm grabbed her shoulders cutting her off. Desperately, she clawed at the hand, but it was unrelenting. Her muffled cries, she realised, could not be heard by anyone and even if Christian heard them, he would not be able to do anything. Hot tears began to creep down her face.

The cold figure of the Duke was standing over her with his hard, cruel eyes gleaming at the fact that she was struggling. Darkness started to creep into her eyes until blackness took over completely and she slipped limply to the floor. There she lay; sprawled in a depressing site, with two ghosts looking at her before they disappeared and one by one the gaslights flickered out.