Chapter 5 - By the Light of the Moon

I slammed the administration office door behind me, fuming with embarrassment and anger. This was the very reason why I didn't want to say anything in the first place. I could only imagine how stupid I sounded. To them I was only the psychopathic drug addict who they so kindly took under their wings.

'Fuck them.'

I raced through the halls, blindly walking passed others without regard. I was utterly lost as to what my next move should be. My only plan had failed miserably and if the managers of this very opera didn't believe me, then who else would? I could already imagine the look on Kristina's face if I tried to confide in her. She would just agree with what everyone else believed. A ghost.

The sun was beginning to set behind the Parisian skyline when I began my walk home. Cars zipped passed me with the smell of metal and exhaust along with pedestrians buried in their phones and newspapers. The wind picked up as the leaves whirled around the sidewalks. I glanced in each alleyway to make sure I wasn't being followed. I had a hunch that this man wouldn't venture outside during the daylight. He was condemned to stay a prisoner in the opera, just like the residual spirit everyone believed him to be.

I knew differently. I saw him plain as day twice now. I needed to clear my head before this whole mess drove me insane, or worse, break my sobriety. I had been doing so well with my sobriety and depression that I couldn't let this stupid incident ruin it all.

I trudged up the apartment steps and with a heavy sigh I entered. Kristina was in the kitchen finishing up some lingering dishes, humming a song contently to herself. It was obvious something had happened in the past week to lighten her mood. The very air around her felt electrified and to be honest I wasn't really in the mood to join her.

She turned from her chore at the sound of me entering and lightly blushed. She lined the last dish up on the rack and dried her hands.

"What's gotten into you?" I asked, a bit more harshly than I had intended. She didn't seem to notice.

"I've had a wonderful week, Cass. It's truly unbelievable." She smiled, balling up the dish towel and throwing it onto the counter.

"What happened? Did you finally meet someone?" I dropped my stuff down next to the door and set to unbuttoning my coat.

"Not really..." She bit her lip and then came around the counter to face me. "I've been taking private lessons."

"I already knew this." My eyes shot wide open. "Are you sleeping with Mr. Bellamy!?"

"Oh, God no!" Kristina shrieked. "No, something so much lovelier."

My brows furrowed. "Now I'm confused."

"I've been chosen, Cass!" She grabbed my hands and grinned at me. "I've been approached by an Angel. Oh, I know it sounds crazy, but I swear."

"Are you doing drugs?" I sincerely questioned her.

"No, not at all." She dropped my hands and started tidying up the kitchen. "The angel has taught me so much. At first I thought I was dreaming but after rehearsal today I'm positive it's all been real!"

My head spun and the dull pains of a migraine threatened my patience.

"It sounds like it..." I hesitated for a moment and let what she told me evaporate into the silence between us. We had been roommates for four years and she had been the closest friend I've ever had. Yet, I was truly nervous to confide in my newly found discovery. I bit my lip hard and decided to take the plunge. "Hey Kris, do you think I could talk to you about something?"

"Of course, you never have to ask." We both went to sit down on the couch. She squeezed my knee reassuringly as I began to fidget.

"This is going to sound absolutely insane but I don't know what else to do. Do you remember the night of my appointment, after Alex and I went exploring in the opera house?"

"Yeah. You thought you saw the ghost, right?"

"Yeah well I don't think it's a ghost. Kris, it's a man. He's a real, breathing person! I saw him twice and both times he was solid, and he spoke to me. He wasn't at all welcoming and in fact a little downright rude. And he wore this mask that covered most of his face." I outlined the boundaries where the mask had laid.

"A masked person? Living in the opera house?" Her eyes grew big with fright.

"Yes! The only thing I could think was that he was a murderer or rapist or someone hiding away from something. I confronted management about it. What a waste of time."

"What did they say!?"

"They told me to forget about it- mind my own business. I was to pretend like what I experienced never even happened."

"Are you sure it was a man? I mean, I know I get scared in that place when it's late and I'm all alone. The dark and the silence has its way of making you see things that aren't actually there."

"Kris..." I scorned her. "I swear to you, he was real! I could make out detailed features."

"Well what are the managers going to do? Anything?"

I rolled my eyes. "They said they were going to send out a security sweep to make sure nobody was hiding out. If they actually do it, I'll never know!"

"Hmm. Well perhaps it's best to just put it behind you for now."

"Just forget everything I saw?"

"Well there really isn't much else you can do...so..." She pursed her lips into a tight frown.

"You sound just like them and Alex. He didn't seem to really believe me either."

My head pounded with the now full on migraine. I rubbed my temples to try and alleviate the pressure. I had all the confession I could handle for one night. It was pointless to even try to convince her of this masked avenger.

"So, do you want me to order the Chinese and get the movie started?" Kristina grinned.

"I'm not feeling well. I think I'm going to go lay down."

I left without waiting for a reply. The darkness of the hallway was as relieving as a cool rag on my head. I yearned for the comfort of my bed.

Three more weeks until the start of dress rehearsals and all I could think about was these ridiculous string of events from the past week. How could one single person disrupt someone's life as much as this?

I lay my head gingerly on the cool fabric of the pillow. Reaching over, I flipped the lamp off and watched as the sun began to dip below the buildings outside my window. I was honestly lost in my plan to oust the basement dweller and I had no choice but to resign. There was no other option but to just regard him as a ghost. It seemed no one else really cared to worry about it but from my experiences, I've learned to never trust anyone. This man had the perfect advantage to do whatever he wanted with whomever he wanted without inhibition.

A few hours later I awoke to complete darkness. I was drenched in sweat yet I couldn't remember having a nightmare. I sat up and wiped the hair off my face. My neck was stiff from my nap and I still felt like shit from the day's disastrous outcome. Leaving my bed, I looked out into the empty living room. Kristina must have had another late night singing lesson.

I slipped across the hall into the bathroom and turned the shower head on. The water was hot and relaxing as it washed all the worry and anxiety far down the drain. Holding onto the curtain rod, I stood there and let the water cascade down my body comfortingly.

"What am I going to do!?" I asked myself.

'You're going to put this mess behind you and concentrate on your career. You didn't come this far to have it all flushed away.'

After I was done getting dressed, I lit a few candles in the living room and with a brush in tow; I curled up on the couch and worked the knots out of the blonde strands of hair. It wasn't always this beautiful. Back in the dark recesses of my life, there was a time I didn't have much hair. A drug induced psychotic break ended the long tresses of my mane. But 5 years later I've gained it all back.

The faint memory of that night unleashed the flood gates to more memories of Peter and my son. Gripping the brush tightly within my grasp, I threw it across the room out of unhindered rage. It bounced off the wall and hit a picture frame. The glass instantly shattered, sending pieces flying everywhere. I cursed myself and went to pick up the glass shards.

Just as I was bending down in front of the destruction, a cold gust of air blasted behind me. The candles were instantly blown out and the hairs on my neck rose. I stood slowly where I was, too afraid to turn around. Cautiously, my head craned to catch a menacing silhouette of a figure standing in front of the open balcony doors, the moonlight shining brightly behind. Their billowing jacket whipped around their legs as the wind sailed in. I gasped in horror. It couldn't be?

The figure sauntered a few long steps forward. I backed up against the stationary desk, cornered between the wall and the fireplace.

I made to dash towards the kitchen but the shadow mirrored my steps, causing me to halt. My body began to tremor in fear as this specter crossed the living room. As it passed the open window, the moonbeams revealed a glimpse of a white mask. The blood rushed from my head as I felt my knees grow weak.

"How did you…?" I whispered. It was all I could manage, my notorious bravery finally failing me.

"I can be very resourceful, you know." His voice was strong and carried a hint of arrogance. "I've come to deliver a fair warning." He took another step forward. "If I were you, I would pay close attention."

Another step closed the distance between us. He was now level with the fireplace, a single step more and he could reach out and strangle me.

"A warning?" My hands began to search for the pair of scissors that sat in the pencil holder on the desk. "For what?"

"I know you tattled on me to those two imbeciles who run that theater. It's most worrisome to me. You see, I have my own agenda and now you are meddling with my affairs. Your misguided sense of responsibility has jeopardized everything I have been working toward. First, you invade my space, and then you upheave my living... I am not a patient man." His advance continued. My fingers finally hit the metal of the scissors and I clenched them tight within my sweaty palms.

"I didn't know what else to do. For all I know you could be a serial killer." I poised the scissors behind my back, waiting for him to lunge at me.

"For all you know, I very well could be. For all you know, that's why I'm here now." His smile was wicked, and my heart thumped loudly within my head. He took another step forward.

I swung the make shift dagger as hard as I could through the air towards the man's chest. His hands caught my wrists and he slammed me up against the wall. Pain splintered down my back as he squeezed tighter, causing the scissors to fall to the ground with a deadening pang.

We were now mere inches from each other, so close our breath was infused as one. The shadow kept my arms above my head as our chests pressed together. I felt the solid muscle beneath his vest with each heave of breath. It was a surprising revelation considering the man appeared extremely thin. The smell of burnt pine and something resembling wet cement teased my senses. I looked into his eyes as he stared hauntingly at me. They were the color of ice and fairly larger than I originally guessed. His right eye had speckles of black throughout them as if it reflected his soul. His gaze traveled from my eyes, down my face and rested for a second on my lips. My stomach tightened, fear resonating throughout my body as he still squeezed my wrists tight. I bit my lip, trying desperately to stop from crying out.

In a flash he released me and I sunk to the ground. I vaguely noticed him bending down to take the weapon away. As if nothing happened, he continued to turn about the room, twirling the scissors between his fingers. He stopped behind the couch and rested a single gloved hand on the cotton fabric, as if deep in thought.

"You will leave me alone. If I hear another word fly off your tongue, I will make sure it will be your last." He dropped the scissors onto the couch and leisurely walked back towards the balcony. "And you will leave Kristina alone. She is to have no part of this and you will keep your filthy little nose out of our affairs."

"Kristina?" Confusion invaded my senses.

"She is going to be the name on everyone's lips when I am through with her. But you are on the cusp of spoiling everything!" He shrieked. Then it dawned on me.

"Oh god...You're her angel of music!" The weight of this new discovery sent me sprawling to the floor again.

"I honestly figured a girl like you wouldn't believe in such nonsense. Remember what I said, Cassarah. You have no idea how quickly I could turn your world upside down. Do not trifle with me!" He pointed a slender finger at me.

"I swear to God if you hurt her I'll come after you myself!" I grabbed the stationary desk and the wall to scale myself back up to my feet. My left foot began to ache but I pushed this to the back of my mind.

He scoffed. "I would never even dream of it. However, the thought of you trying to come after me is quite amusing." The specters smile was riveting. Oddly enough, I couldn't look away from it. "Take this as a friendly gesture. This little game has gone on far enough. You are threatening my very freedom. If you value your pathetic little life, you will listen to what I've said. "

"How dare you thre-"

"Oh but I do." He shook his head slightly and backed up to the opened doors of the balcony. " You think you are brave, perhaps even courageous for the things you've been through in life. Fortunately for you, it doesn't even touch the kind of things I've endured," He turned away from me but paused on the landing. "By the way, you're staining your beautiful throw rug. Such a pity for a dancer to injure her foot..."

I looked down to find a pool of blood encircling my foot. On the edge of my heel I could see a large piece of glass jutting out of the torn flesh. I grabbed hold of the shard and yanked. My teeth sunk into the skin of my lip to try and stifle the cry of pain. When I looked back up, he was gone, disappearing under the light of the moon. I hobbled to the balcony and leaned over the edge of the rail. He had completely vanished. Not even the leaves on the ground below had been overturned.

"Damn."

I stalked back into the flat carefully as to not infuriate the seeping gash on the back of my heel. I set to make quick work of the broken mess on the floor, my hands still shaking from the unexpected encounter with the ghost. For reasons beyond my understanding, I couldn't get the sight of his eyes out of my mind. I had never seen any like them before. I sat back on my heels, wincing a little with the pressure upon my injured foot. What was wrong with me? I should be afraid for my life. I should be calling the authorities right now to report the incident. I already knew this was futile as they would never believe me and even if they did, what were they going to find? The man was as he said, resourceful.

I threw the bits in the trash and went to the bathroom to wrap my foot. The makeshift bandage would have to do and resigning I went back out into the living room. My mind raked with indecision. Every instinct in me screamed to warn my dear friend of the dangerous situation she was treading in. She needed to know that her miracle was actually a fake. He was clearly obsessed with her. She needed to know, but would she believe me?

Returning to the couch, I lit a cigarette to try to relax my nerves. It had been so long since I had felt real fear and to be honest, it was almost exhilarating. I've turned a cold shoulder to the rest of the world, and only let in very few people. After rehab I had promised myself to smother any real feelings for anyone. It was safe that way.

I flicked the spent butt into the fireplace and rolled over to stare at the back of the couch. I hardly believed sleep would come to me that night, but I had early morning rehearsals and Frank was already irritated with me for not being on time.

'He's sure going to be pissed when he notices the cut on my foot.'

I couldn't remember falling asleep but I dreamt of those haunting blue eyes all night, staring at me in the blanket of darkness.