Disclaimer: Thanks for not flaming me last time. I was in a sort of sour mood around the end of my story, I had these huge exam-sized semesters quizzes the next day, and my head was hurting so bad I felt like I was going to die. But I am doing much better now, even if my e-mail has suddenly decided to be gay and stopped telling me when I had reviews or PM's. Which is retarded, because I have Fanfic on my 'accept' list.
I would like to apologize to Christine Ruud and Evanesce especially, seeing how I forgot to thank them for reviewing.
Darn you, computer.
Okay, apparently, it gives me my messages like a freaking day late. Yeah. PMSing e-mail.
It took three days for it to alert me one of my Alert stories had updated…and I'd already read it.
The Magic Pickle Fairy: The hair thing was bugging me too. It was actually Insanity/Insane who was like "Whoa, he's wearing a wig?" From there I just tinkered with that. Oh, and thanks for not flaming.
Songstressgirl07: Ooohhh, I like that idea! He says 'two minutes' too, and we all know it took much longer then two minutes for Erik to explain the Fog Machine to Madame Giry and kill a Progressive dude! Geez, I really need to write these things down. I have billions!
Supergirrl: Maybe that car-washing thing could be a BTR Bonus story!
I love your Devil's Spawn story to death, but you'd better be working on Cape Swooshing!
Christine Ruud: I'm sure you were going to ask about it. And you'd better fear the cornchips.
You'd better.
FemmeLoki: I don't know if you knew or not, but I have severe issues with the song American Pie. But you never know…I could!
And I love gutters.
Oh, and Vengeance? Productive or not, That. Sickness. Sucks.
Guess what guys! Magic Pickle Fairy's reminder of the creepy graveyard is this chapter's question! And Evanesce begged to be in it, so I oblige!
P.S.: SHE BEGGED!
P.P.S.: I'm updating because Insane said to count something as a review. So she's technically 70.
If both Erik and Christine get to the graveyard at the same time then why was Erik in the mausoleum before Christine?
…Is he even in the mausoleum?
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"Erik, you cannot do this," Madame Giry hissed urgently, looking around to make sure no one was watching. The Phantom just grumbled something and placed the harness on the black horse.
"Why not? She's a simple mare," he grunted, petting the mane happily.
"You stole Flicka!"
"She's just a horse, Taller Giry! No one is going to miss her! And I borrowed without asking, not stole," Erik retorted.
"She has a movie coming up, Monsieur!"
"..How do you know that?" The suspicion in his voice was obvious. The woman coughed briefly.
"That teen…she, erm, won't leave me alone. The stupid one." The ballet instructor glared at her friend. "Not only can you not steal a horse, but you're going to knock out a man only to have yet another try at seducing Mademoiselle Daae."
"Oh come on, Taller Giry. I've had this mare since the beginning of the movie. Remember the horse in my underground lair? Her." He paused to comprehend what the woman said. "I'm only knocking him out," he retorted. "I'm not going to punjab him. And that's an improvement." Erik fed Flicka a sugarcube, rubbing her nose affectionately.
"The horse is female, yes, but you are not allowed to mentally rename her Christine."
The man scowled, his plot ruined and all thoughts of hugging the horse vanished. He got out the rapier, and Flicka whinnied and bucked, kicking the not-so-ghost through the stable.
Madame Giry blinked, mumbled something, and then went back inside.
----
"To my father's grave," Christine requested quietly, shuffling around in black dress that adorable, funny, creative, sweet, pre- OW, WHY DID YOU HAVE TO STEP ON MY TOE!?
Oh, yeah.
Ahem. She turned around, seeking the vase of black roses. The slightest memory of her angel flickered into her mind, but she slowly went to it and picked them up.
Behind her, a black-caped creature swept down and knocked the man unconscious.
Christine stepped onto the carriage, and the man glanced behind towards her, the light shinning off his colorless mask.
Erik spurred Flicka, listening to the Candle Men start the background music of Christine's song play.
Uh…wait, where was the graveyard again? Erm, maybe I should follow those flashing neon director signs all across the stag- I MEAN the woods!
He arrived at the graveyard, despite his temptation to just pull over and steal away his darling little Christine.
The female got out, and Erik paused for a moment. The second her Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again music began playing, he slit the harness of the black mare, who immediately took off at a gallop. Using his wicked Phantom speeds, he leapt off his seat and dove at the horse, prepared to land perfectly and zoom off.
But he missed, and landed face-down eagle-spread on the snow.
…Take Two….
He slit the harness of the black mare, who immediately took off at a gallop. Using his wicked Phantom speeds, he leapt his seat and dove at the horse, landing amazingly perfectly on her back and gripping the neck of the rushing creature.
"Onward, Flicka!" he shouted, dashing around the graveyard.
The camera flicked back to Christine, and if you bought one of those unedited Phantom Of The Opera remakes, you could totally see Erik on the back of a black horse and speeding around in the background.
Erik rushed past his would-be girlfriend and made it to the mausoleum. Leaning on the tomb was a fourteen-year-old with reddish/gold hair with brown tints. Her arms were crossed, the diamond bracelets twinkling against the snow. A single eyebrow was cocked above her charcoal-colored eye.
"Sup Ghosty," she said with a slight nod of her head.
HEY THAT RYHMED!
Erik's jaw dropped, and so did Flicka's after some major graphic editing.
"You're one of those Phangirl designers, aren't you?"
She nodded quietly, blowing a bang from her face.
"..Evanesce, right? What are you doing here, mon cherie?"
"Mrs. Giry paid me 200 francs (isn't that twenty dollars?) to watch you and make sure you didn't kidnap Christine, and you didn't kill Raoul in the fight scene." She stepped up to the mare and stroked her mane. "And an extra 50 to take Flicka back to her movie. Tim McGraw in it, you know?"
"Who?"
"Never mind. I have to baby-sit you. And you'd better not do anything bad," Evanesce warned, pulling a carrot out of her pocket and feeding the horse.
"Or what, you little incompetent fool? You're a mere child; you cannot stand up to an angel!"
"I have Gisele, Kloolk, Lady Pendragon, Alex, Christine Ruud, Songstress Girl, Daray, Moonservant, Celixir, and FemmeLoki on speed-dial. If you misbehave, I'll call them all."
Erik shut up, scowling. "I'll pay you 400 francs to stand in the mausoleum and work the lights for me."
"400? Why don't you give me," she paused to puff out her chest and re-crossed her arms in a stupid manor, going crossed-eyed. "Twenty-Thousand francs!" she huffed each syllable, bouncing a little.
"…Okay, yes, hey, Dominique. Kill the impressions and stand in the tomb."
"You don't stand in it?"
"Of course not! I'm on the roof, you silly little phangirl. But I need someone to be inside and work the lights and open the gates slowly."
"Won't I be seen, Erik?"
"Don't call me that, and no. You'll be edited out. Now, do we have a deal?" He stuck out a bony black-gloved hand, which Evanesce eyed with much distaste. But eventually she uncrossed her arms and shook the hand, but had to suppress the phangirlish squeal dying to come out. She'd acted cool this far.
"And an extra 100 to let me kill the Fop."
Even though she would have gladly allowed that, Madame Giry would have her head.
"Don't make me roof you," she said in a sincere voice, which Erik decided to take seriously and jumped onto the roof. Evanesce paused, then walked into the mausoleum.
Flicka stood silently at the side, eating her carrot, wondering where the warm place went and why her new rider wasn't that teenage girl she was so used too.
Erik sat down, watching Christine come near.
Little did he know that the horse was plotting his downfall.
Dun dun dun.
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A/N: I'm no longer sick! It's wondrous!
Did those names Evanesce list off from her cell phone found familiar? Thanks for reviewing guys!
I have let again stolen something from Supergirrl. That Dominique crack is from her newest story, Frai Du Diable. You guys need to totally read it, it's both plotful and funny.
And if I say it's funny, it's gotta be funny.
Fear Flicka.