Chapter Three-
Meg quickly walked down the hallway towards Christine's old room, her Christine's old room, with one of her old dresses in her arms. Her mother had told her to help the girl, Christine, dress for the day. Her mother had suggested Meg use one of the dresses in the armoire in her Christine's old room, but Meg absolutely refused to do that. Just the thought of putting that Christine in a dress that had belonged to her Christine made Meg feel as if they were trying to replace Christine with her.
No, Meg would not allow that. So she was going to put the girl in one of her dresses, and then perhaps try to convince her mother to move the girl to a new room. That room belonged to Christine, her Christine, not this girl who shared not only Christine's likeness but her name as well.
Meg stopped when she came to the door of her Christine's old room, she took a deep breath to steady herself before lightly knocking before opening the door, her mother had told her to expect the girl to stay silent. Meg looked towards the bed and saw that the girl was sitting in bed staring at the mirror on the wall as if in a trance. Meg glanced at the mirror before turning to look back at the girl and jumped in shock when she saw the girl looking at her.
Meg gulped as she looked into the girl's guarded, yet curious shocking blue eyes. Meg took a shaky breath before holding out the dress to the girl, who slowly moved her eyes from Meg's face towards the dress, allowing Meg to breathe. "Maman asked me to help you dress." Meg told the girl who looked back at her before she looked away again and slowly slid off the bed. "Maman also told me to inform you that she has taken your dress to the seamstress to see if it can be fixed." Meg told the girl who nodded.
The girl silently slipped out of the night dress and Meg absentmindedly noticed that the girl's boobs were bigger than not only her's but also her Christine's and most of the dancer's boobs. Meg shook her head before helping the girl into the slip and corset. When Meg began to pull the strings on the corset tight, she heard the girl give a little gasp of pain causing Meg to stop and look at the girl who had her head bowed.
"Is it too tight?" Meg asked but the girl gave no answer, not even a nod or shake of the head. Meg left the corset like it was, even though it was not even close to being its normal tightness, and helped the girl into the dress.
Once the dress was on the girl, Meg tried her hardest not to glare at the girl, but she really couldn't help it. The dress was tight on the girl, but not too tight, and heightened all of the right curves on the girl. It also made the girl's already large boobs look larger than they were. Meg saw the girl's left hand fiddling with the dress's skirt, obviously uncomfortable. Meg turned her head from the girl and softly cleared her throat. "Maman asked that I show you around, but only if you feel up to it." Meg said and was shocked to hear the girl's voice.
"I would like that, thank you." The girl said. Meg gulped and glared at the door. Not only did this girl share her Christine's likeness and name, but she also shared her voice! What else did this girl have that was Christine's? Did she also sing like an Angel as well? Did this girl have anything that didn't belong to her Christine?
Her boobs. Meg's mind whispered darkly. The girl's large boobs were the only thing that she owned that did not belong to her Christine.
\'~'/
Christine silently followed the young woman that had helped her into her dress. She noticed that the young woman had never once gave Christine her name, sending a very clear message to Christine. She was not wanted here, at least not by this young woman. Christine felt a tear slide down her cheek, but quickly wiped it away, she would not let this young woman see her cry.
Christine observed the young woman as she gave her a very half-hearted tour of the Opera Populair. Christine wasn't paying any attention to the tour, she didn't need to, she had grown up in the Opera Populair. She knew every nook and cranny of the place, even most of the secret passages that ran throughout the Populair that was still accessible. The only things Christine wanted to know was: What time period was she in and how did she get there?
With a slightly bored sigh, Christine forced her attention away from the situation she was in to the young woman she was following. The young woman was a pretty little thing with long blonde hair that had been curled, long legs and a posture that showed she had grown up doing some type of dance, most likely ballet. The young woman stopped and turned to regard her, and Christine saw the girl's eyes widen when she noticed Christine watching her.
"It is almost time for rehearsals." The young woman told her. "I shall lead you back to your room." Christine shook her head, she really didn't want to return to that room right now, it brought back painful memories. "Well, I guess if you do not wish to return to your room just yet I can bring you with me to the rehearsal. However, you must stay out of the way." The young woman ordered, reminding Christine of her mother.
"But of course." Christine muttered with slight annoyance, dropping her eyes to the floor before following the girl towards the auditorium. As soon as they entered, Christine heard the room suddenly go quiet and felt the eyes of a large group of people land on her. Christine glanced up and was shocked, and slightly scared, to see that everyone was staring at her is confusion. Christine saw the young woman begin to move towards the woman from the other night, Madame Giry, and quickly caught up.
"You are late, Meg." Madam Giry said, and the young woman bowed her head.
"I am sorry, Maman, but I was showing her around as you asked and did not realize how close it was to rehearsal the time was." The young woman, now identified as Meg, told Madame Giry clearly trying to push the blame off onto her.
"I see." Madame Giry said sternly. "Get to your spot, Meg." Meg nodded before quickly leaving Christine with Madame Giry. The two silently stared at each other before Madame Giry turned and motioned for Christine to follow her. "Come, Christine, you shall stand with me in the wings." Christine silently nodded and followed Madame Giry. However, before they could even reach the wings, they were stopped by an elder gentleman with graying hair.
"Miss Daaé?" The gentleman asked in confusion as he quickly made his way over to them. Christine looked around before realizing that he was talking to her.
"Oh, no, Monsieur, I do believe you have mistaken me for someone else. I am Christine Dexler." She informed him softly.
"Oh, I do apologize. You look almost identical to -" The gentle man started before stopping himself with a shake of his head before bowing his head to her. "Once more, I apologize." He said before quickly leaving.
"Come, Christine." Madame Giry said, Christine looked away from where the man had headed off to towards Madame Giry before following her once more. Once they had gotten to the wings, Madame Giry motioned to a chair and Christine sat. Christine allowed her mind to wander.
Daaé? Why did that name sound so familiar? Where had she heard it before?
Christine sighed as she absentmindedly let her eyes roam over the dancers during the rehearsals, listening more to the orchestra than the singing. Her mind was distracted by her thoughts as her mind was pulled into a memory that she had though was long forgotten.
In Christine's mind's eye she was a young girl once more watching her mother preform Elissa from Chakuneau's Hannibal while listening to her father play in the orchestra. A tear fell from her eye.
They had been a happily family then, Christine had two loving parents who cared for not only each other but her as well. Her mother would teach her the Opera's as she was learning as her father would practice his part in the orchestra. They would laugh, dance, and sing. Everything was perfect.
Tires squealing. The world tilting as she was flung to the side. Her head hitting the window as the vehicle began to flip. She lost count how many times it flipped, or maybe she had never began counting. Someone was screaming. There was noise everywhere, and yet she couldn't hear anything. People surrounded the vehicle talking to her. What was happening? She was scared. Where was her papa? She couldn't move! Why couldn't she move?
Christine forced her mind away from that memory. Even though it happened years ago, it was still too painful. That memory was the catalyst to her mother's change in attitude towards her.
She layed on her bed in the hospital room she had been placed in. Her bruised and broken body was bandaged. She was numb to the pain her body was probably feeling, she was numb to everything.
He was gone. Her papa was gone. She would never again get to hear him playing his violin or hear any more of his stories from his home land in the North. She would never get to hear him and mama laugh together ever again.
Mama had been furious with her. And mama had the right to be mad, she had killed her papa. She was a murderer. Mama wouldn't look at her, wouldn't speak to her. Mama had left her here days ago and hasn't been back.
Someone gently whipped away her tears that had begun to fall once more. She wanted to turn her head away from who ever was in her dark room with her. She didn't deserve their kindness or sympathy, she was a murderer.
~Oh, Christine~
Christine's mind shot from the past at the feeling of someone watching her. She looked around to find that no one was watching her.
'Stop being paranoid, Christine.' She reprimanded herself, yet the feeling stayed. Chills run up and down her spine as the room suddenly began to close in on her. She couldn't stay here. She had to run.
~I will protect you, my Dark Angel~ Christine glanced at Madame Giry to see that she was focused on the ballet dancers, she would never notice her leaving. She stood up and began to make her way towards the back of the stage while making sure no one was paying her any mind. She made her way to where she knew was a doorway to one of the secret tunnels, and, once the coast was clear, she slipped through the door and into the tunnels that were her safe haven.
However, the moment she entered the tunnels, dread filled her. These tunnels were not like the one she had grown up with, these tunnels were dangerous. Something in these tunnels were making them dangerous. A shiver ran through her as the feeling of being watched grew. Whoever had been watching her was in the tunnels with her.
Her fight or flight kicked in, and she ran down the tunnel. Christine didn't have to look back to know that her predator was chasing her. Adrenaline pumped through her blood, exciting her for the first time in years.
Christine let out a soft cry when her predator caught her and held her against their chest. She closed her eyes and resisted the urge to struggle, but that did not mean she was giving up, she was just saving her energy instead of wasting it with fighting against the strength of her predator.
"What are you doing back here, Madame Christine Daaé?" Her predator, a man, hissed angrily in her ear. Daeé. There was that name once more. Whoever this woman was, she had appeared to have left an impression here. Whether that impression was good or bad has yet to be seen. "Or shall I call you Victomtess Christine de Chagny?" De Chagny. That had been her mother's maiden name.
"I do believe, monsieur, that you have me mistaken for someone that I am not." Christine calmly informed him.
"Do not lie to me, Christine. You think that just because you have been gone almost a year that I would not recognize you! You think I am a fool?" The man growled before Christine found herself spinning around and shoved up against the tunnel wall facing her predator. Her breath caught when her eyes locked with cold, hard, amber eyes that she couldn't look away from. "You are not her." He whispered emotionlessly. What he relieved or disappointed that she was not who he had thought she was.
"I am not this Christine Daeé." She agreed.
"If you are not her, then who are you?" The man demanded.
"My name is Christine Dexler." Christine told him only to have his hand around her throat in a threatening manner. He stared deep into her eyes and she felt as though he were looking into her soul. Fear began to rise inside her.
~Do not be afraid, my Dark Angel. You will not be harmed by him. He is wounded, and is lashing out.~
Christine blinked when she found herself unexpectedly being tossed in the direction they had come from, causing her to stumble and fall to the ground.
"Leave." The man ordered.
Christine nodded before standing up and running back down the tunnel. As she ran, she heard the man give out a cry thought sounded as if it had come from a wounded beast. She felt the anguish in his cry in her soul. She knew that pain, the lose of someone dear to you.
Edited: 6/4/2020