Today's my Birthday! (Yay!) I'm turning 18 today so I thought I'd pass along some of my happy. Hope you enjoy the next chapter!

And THANK YOU to everyone who's reviewed so far! And special thanks to Neori and Shadow Fox Forever for reviewing on the last chapter. And thanks to whoever's reading anyway.

Much love all.

-bobmcbobbob1 (4/25/05)

Christine took off her bonnet after the third walk that day; these walls were too confining. Each instance she asked Raoul to join her and each time she was rejected. Handing her coat to a servant, she walked by the grand piano in the parlor, absently stroking the polished wood. She sighed, knowing Erik's touch was the only one that could make the instrument truly sing. It was depressing to see such a fine piece go to waste; she found herself too distraught to play what simple melodies he had taught her and Raoul's meager skill was silenced by his grief.

A loud crash erupted from Raoul's study and she instantly dashed to the door, pulling her skirts up lest she trip on the hem. She pounded on the door. "Raoul! Is everything alright in there?"

He made no spoken response but she could hear his heavy footsteps inch toward the door. Moments later, he opened the door partway to look at her. "No, everything is not okay, Christine." Pushing the door aside, she hugged him while he cried into her shoulder. Christine sagged under his weight and eased him into a chair.

"What's wrong, Raoul?"

He sighed and let his head meet the back of the chair. "I can't get Philippe's tombstone for another week."

Lost for words, Christine squeezed Raoul's hand. "It's alright, Raoul. We'll put this mess behind us."

He smiled appreciatively at his fiancée. "Thank you, Christine, for helping me through this. I love you." Raoul leaned forward and kissed her cheek sweetly.

Taking advantage of Raoul's brief light mood, Christine struck out, "Will you join me for dinner tonight? It's been rather lonely lately."

"Alright, Christine. If it will please you."

She smiled compassionately and rose to leave, all the more determined to see Raoul through his grief, one way or another, as a good friend or rather, she reminded herself, fiancée should.

∞†∞

"The moon rises. Are you ready to stir up a little trouble, taste the world for the first time?" Philippe grinned boyishly at Erik, clearly excited.

Though slightly annoyed by Philippe's enthusiasm, Erik had to admit to himself that the thrill of the hunt beckoned. "Let's go."

"You're well experienced with blending into the shadows, yes? Well, this is a nice little trick you'll master soon enough." With that, Philippe took a few steps back and dissolved into the dark shadow, away from the candle light. "Care to try it?" Erik jumped as Philippe was suddenly behind him.

Without speaking, Erik backed into the shadow to try for himself and soon found himself easily flowing at a smooth, rapid pace through the all the cracks of his home where light did not show.

"Not bad for your first time. After a while, you'll be able to turn shade regardless of how the room is lit. We'll work on that. Now, follow me." Again dissipating into the blackness, Erik followed his shape through a distinction he didn't truly understand just that he knew where Philippe was.

After Philippe hesitated and led them down several wrong passageways, Erik could no longer restrain his amusement and resumed his normal form and gait. Philippe glowered back as Erik offered, "Maybe I should lead?"

"I suppose you do know where you're going. Go on, lead away." Merging into the surrounding shadows, Erik confidently led Philippe to the stage.

Sure enough, several slumped figures laid sprawled out on the stage, some surrounded by empty bottles, the results of their wages. Erik growled with distaste to see his stage defiled in such a manner.

Philippe whispered next to him, "I'll let you pick first."

Glancing around quickly, Erik gestured to one man on the edge of the stage that used his arms for pillow and lie next to only one empty bottle of wine.

"Fair choice. I've got the tubby one over there. Watch how it's done."

Evaporating into shadow, Philippe slid down the fire-damaged curtains next to the man. At the same time, he snaked a hand across the man's mouth to muffle any screams and bit down harshly to the flesh of the man's neck. The man's eyes flew open and he struggled momentarily before the blood loss slowly drained his efforts. His body fell limp moments later and Philippe lowered the corpse to the ground, wiping his mouth off on his sleeve though his teeth still held crimson stains. Taking a scarf from his pocket, Philippe tied it over the wound before returning to Erik's side. Erik made a gesture about his neck and Philippe responded, "That way they'll think he died from too much alcohol."

Erik nodded lightly then took his place, determined to somehow outdo his companion. From his pocket, he drew out his trusty lasso and easily copied Philippe's example by sliding down the opposite side of the curtain. Stealthily moving toward his target, he was beside him in an instant as he mumbled something in his sleep, completely unaware of the danger to his life. With all his years of practice, Erik slipped the noose around his neck and drew the man up to standing while he fought against the catgut strands, staring with wide eyes at the masked face of his attacker as the pressure on his trachea rendered him speechless.

Erik met the man's terrified gaze momentarily and saw something in the man's eyes: Christine. What would she think of him were she to see this?

"What are you doing? Hurry up," Philippe urged.

Forcing the vision from his mind, he leaned forward before he could have any more second thoughts. This was his life now. To kill in order to survive, much as it had been before. The man was too stunned to book any protest as Erik sank his newly shaped teeth into the base of his neck.

Erik's eyes flew wide with shock. It was more than mere liquid; it was life, sweet and bitter all at once. All this man's emotions, all this man's little white lies, all the shameless acts, all the generous acts, all the lives he touched, flooded into Erik's conscious. When he finally drew back, Erik nearly dropped the body in surprise; the questioning look was forever set in this man's face.

Philippe appeared next to him and drew a knife across Erik's bite. "It looks like a random cut now. We still have to be discreet, no? Especially so close to your home."

Erik nodded numbly and walked away, unable to rid the image from his mind. Once they made their way back to Erik's home, Erik walked to Christine's room and looked in the mirror. Maybe there's a reason I can't see my reflection. I thought I was hideous once, but who's to say what kind of monster I could become with this power.

Philippe came up behind him or rather Erik saw the reflection of his clothes come forward seemingly on their own. "So how do you feel?"

"I'm not sure. I feel alive…but―"

"A little guilty? Well, like I said, you get used to it."

Erik looked at himself. The weight he'd lost during the last few months was back in the form of new muscle. Old cuts and scars had faded, save for his face. "Will my face change too?"

"No, I'm afraid that's probably not going to change. You're unique, Erik."

Erik sighed, "What do we do now?"

"Get some rest. We'll talk more tomorrow."

Not needing to be told twice, Erik made his way to his room and closed his eyes only to find dreams of all those he had murdered in the past with a new face added to the masses.

∞†∞

Also, Erik and Christine WILL meet in either the next chapter or the one after; I've decided. So E/C shippers hang in there!

Well, you know what could really make my day...just that little square down there and two seconds of your time. Love it or hate it, please let me know! (and if you see things that need to be fixed or you found some incongruencies or you have an idea or...)