Chapter 51- Pursuit

Christine walked slowly back to the centre of the stage from the edge, she heard 'Passirino, go away...' and thought that Piangi's voice had deepened somewhat. It was a strange sensation that coursed through her as she sat on the bench and acted her part, waiting for the figure of Don Juan to cast a
shadow across her.

She did not wait long.

As the music followed its flow and began to darken into something deeper, more passionate, the voice she heard was not the one she was expecting. She knew in that instant that Raoul's plan had come completely undone.

They would all be lucky to survive.

'You have come here,' Was the first of his lines and his voice sent shivers around her entire body. She would like to say it was only her spine that tingled at his sound but the whole of her shook. She felt the hairs on her arms stand up as he sang to her, she felt his shadow as it moved around her, he was imposing, he was powerful... he was beautiful.

In rehearsals when Piangi sang this Christine had chills but they were the cold, hard variety, the kind that makes you want to wrap up warm and shut the cold out. These were different. The back of her neck became cool with sensation, every nerve in her body responded to the tone of his singing.

Erik was back.

They had sung together before but never performed and she knew then that was exactly what this was going to be, a performance. She felt his hand stroke the line of her shoulders from behind but she dare not look, for if she did she was afraid she might be lost forever. She took a quick glance up and saw that Raoul was watching, his forehead creased with concern, he could see that something was wrong.

The managers seemed to sense it to.

'No second thoughts...' Erik sang, softly, soothingly... 'Past the point of no return...'

Were they really, she thought, as she found the courage to glance over her shoulder. His face was cloaked by the hood of his cape but she caught a flash of blue.

His eyes.

Those eyes.

He came closer, behind her, hands on both shoulders leaning into her. 'What sweet seduction lies before us..?'

She almost choked, she could hardly breath. She felt her heart wild in her chest as the audience looked on in complete suspense. His voice was seductive and pure, this was the way he intended it to be sung and now she understood. The fingertips of his gloveless hand brushed her shoulder as he let them fall from her body.

She took a breath, tried to compose herself. 'You have brought me to that moment where words run dry...' she could barely hear herself think, let alone sing, the sound of her own pulse in her ears was loud and distracting. Still, she sang on, attempting to remember the words, her moves, her cues... it was difficult because all the time she felt him looking at her.

'In my mind I've already imagined...' her voice caught but she pulled it back...' Our b... bodies entwining, defenceless and silent...'

Somehow the words kept coming out; somehow she was remembering them for her teacher. She could not disappoint him, not even now. As she sang she risked a glance to the side of the stage where Antoinette Giry stood, frozen, watching them.

She knew.

She stood, felt his arm wrap around her waist as they began to sing together, their voices merging perfectly, beautifully, as if they belonged. Swaying, she continued to sing, moving away from him she glanced teasingly over her shoulder... everything she was supposed to do but now she knew she meant it. When he caught her up his voice filled her with something she had never felt before, she was light, her pulse raced, her chest struggled for breath.

'We've past the point of no return...' she whispered.

Police were scrambling around the theatre, Raoul was shouting something, yet the music still played... the show must go on. The touch of his hand on her was enough to send the chills shooting along her spine again. She wanted to fall into him but knew she could not, knew it was wrong.

He leaned forward, arms around her, lips near her ear. 'Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime, lead me save me from my solitude,' Erik held his hand out and in it was her ring, glittering under the light. She took it from him carefully, looking into his eyes; she placed it on her finger. 'Say you want me with you, here beside you,'

Her heart thumped, she couldn't do this, couldn't let him consume her. Could she?

'Anywhere you go, let me go too,'

Her mouth was suddenly dry, her hands clammy.

'Christine, that's all I ask...'

It was wrong.

She did not allow him to get the last word out; she reached out and grabbed the cool edge of his mask. With a firm tug she pulled it away, revealing his horrific skin to the audience before them. She heard screams and a loud bang before she was falling.

Falling and falling but still wrapped in his arms.

And as they fell she wondered, for the first time ever, if Erik was going to kill her.

His feet thudding on the stairs Raoul darted through the commotion and into the auditorium.

'Where is she?' He demanded, staring at the managers and the police chief in front of him. They all looked at each other and then, slowly, Gilles Andre shook his head.

'We don't know,' The police officer said.

He must have seen the look in Raoul's eyes because he backed away quickly, carefully, putting some distance between himself and the Vicomte.

'I'm not sure I've ever seen such a display of incompetence before in all my life!' He knew he was shouting but could not stop, could not make himself calm. The Phantom had taken her, taken his fiancée, his love... his Christine.

'How were we to know..?'

Raoul held his hand up to stop him. 'You should have had every base covered, every square, every foot of this place!'

Antoinette Giry walked in, head bowed, with Richard Firmin. It was Richard who spoke. 'Ubaldo Piangi is dead,'

Raoul swallowed.

'They have found another body in the corridors,'

'How could this happen?' Raoul was shaking his head, trying to make himself understand.

'We can only apologise,' The office spoke. 'We have our men scouring the premises,'

'Like you did last time?'

'Well..'

He turned to Antoinette Giry, panic settling into his body. 'Where are they?'

'Victome,' she said.

'Where has he taken her!?' he demanded, hands trembling, bile rising into his throat. 'Where are they!?'

'I will show you,' she finally replied, softly, sadly.

'You don't want to give him up,' He was amazed, almost appalled.

She shook her head. 'He won't harm her,'

'She keeps telling me that but how am I to believe it?' Raoul asked. 'The man is a murderer, he has killed people and now he has taken Christine against her will,'

'Are you so sure it is completely against her will?' Madame Giry asked a little too gently.

'What are you suggesting?'

'I'm simply noting that she trusted him, he was her teacher for quite some time,'

'Where are they?'

'Follow me,' she began to walk out of the door and towards the back of the theatre. For once, Raoul did as he was told, following her along the black corridor.

'Now what?'

'She kicked the floor and a door appeared, as if from no where. 'Down there,'

'Down?'

'Yes,'

He reached for the edges and yanked at the sides until it opened, revealing several stone steps leading into complete blackness. 'I'll need a lantern,'

She shook her head. 'He will spot it,'

'No lantern?' he frowned. 'How will I see?'

'I don't know but any light down there is almost certain death,' She shrugged her shoulders. 'I can't help you anymore other than to say that you must keep your hand at the level of your eye?'

'What?'

'He has the Punjab lasso, Vicomte,' she said. 'Trust me,'

Philippe, who had so far been standing in silence, looked horrified. 'You can't go down there!'

'I have to,' Raoul sighed. 'I need to save her, Philippe, I love her, can't you see?'

Philippe did not reply, instead he stared quietly at his younger brother, concern clouding his usually clear eyes.

'I love her,' Raoul repeated. 'She is in danger,'

Philippe nodded his head, defeated. 'Then I come with you,'

'No,'

'Raoul...'

'Is it not enough that on of us will be risking our life?' Raoul asked, placing a hand on his brother's broad shoulder. 'I must go alone,'

'I'll get some people together; we'll follow when there are enough of us to be safe,'

Raoul thought about it for a moment and then nodded his agreement.

'We'll finish this,'

Antoinette Giry's face was almost green as she stepped forward, for the first time timidly, 'Don't hurt him,'

'Hurt him?' Philippe's frowned. 'I'm going to kill him,'

'No,' she said, and Raoul heard the catch in her voice. 'He doesn't mean this...'

'Ha...'

'He won't hurt her,'

Philippe shook his head. 'He has killed many,' he said, as he turned and walked away.

Raoul watched her for a moment and realised that he was the only one to see the single tear roll down her cheek.

'I won't hurt him,' Raoul said softly.

She looked at him as if she had forgotten he was there, her eyes dark, face pale and drawn.

'You may have no choice,'

Scott had leapt up in the commotion and run for the back stage area where he hoped he would fine his wife and daughter, safe and sound. Meg was sitting on a stool, her head in her hands, staring at the floor. He had placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and she had released a loud sigh.

'Papa,'

'It will be alright, Meg,' he had reassured. 'Everything will be alright,'

'I hope so,'

'Where is your mother?' he asked.

Meg turned and looked around her. 'She was here a moment ago,'

He frowned. 'Has anyone seen Antoinette Giry?'

A girl nodded, tears streaking her soft cheeks, and she pointed to the open door behind the stage. Scott grabbed Meg's hand and pulled her towards the door, squeezing gently as they moved. There was no way he was letting his daughter out of his sight in this place. They followed the voices they heard until he could vaguely make out his wife's shadow in the distance. She was standing with Raoul and Philippe De Chagny.

Scott decided to wait for her to be done and a few seconds later Philippe barged past them, frowning, his temper obviously frayed. They walked towards Antoinette just in time to hear Raoul tell his wife that he would not 'hurt him' and for her to say that he 'might have no choice'.

Years or even months ago, Scott would have been confused by this but now he understood. His wife, his beautiful, elegant Antoinette, had said another man's name in her sleep. He knew that she was not being unfaithful but the cries of his name were so pained it had not been difficult to work out who he was. She said his name not in ecstasy but in fear, in hurt, in worry and now he understood that the man she called in her sleep, this Erik, was none other than this Phantom.

A man she loved, at least once in her life, and now worried for. It had been since the night of the ball, the night he returned; her face when she saw him descending the staircase was an odd mixture of worry and relief. He should have known then but it had been the dreams that confirmed it.

'Antoinette,' he said softly, as Raoul plunged into blackness beneath their feet.

She looked at him, her eyes were red. 'Scott,'

'It will be alright,'

'Where is Laurent?' she asked.

'He vanished just after the commotion,' he answered. 'He's probably looking for us,'

Antoinette nodded. 'Meg,'

'I'm fine, Mama,'

Another nod as Scott loosed Meg's hand and wrapped his arms around his wife, whispering softly in her ear. 'He'll be alright,'

'Raoul is strong but...'

'I didn't mean him,'

Antoinette tried to pull away but he held her tight, squeezed her to his body. 'What can I say?'

'Just tell me you're not in love with him,' Scott whispered, her body pressed against him.

'I was,' He felt her swallow as she spoke. 'A long time ago,'

He nodded, rubbing her back, holding her close.

'I love you,' She murmured. 'Only you,'

'Good to know,' He moved away slightly, keeping her in his arms but looking into her eyes. 'What can I do to help?'

It was at that moment that Philippe De Changy returned, a crowd of people carrying torches behind him, his face pure fury. The people following him approached quickly and surrounded the hole in the floor, staring into it. 'This is where the monster hides,' Philippe said, turning to look at the crowd around him. 'This is where we will find him,'

Someone from the back of the group called out, 'Track down this murderer,' someone else anchored 'He must be found' onto the statement and suddenly, this became their chant. One by one, following Philippe, they all plunged into the blackness beneath.

Scott looked at his wife. 'I'll go with them,'

She touched his arm. 'Be careful,'

They both fell quiet and it was a familiar voice behind them that broke the silence. 'Don't worry,' Laurent said, as he stepped from the shadows. 'I'll be with him,'

Scott nodded his head and kissed Antoinette's cheek as softly as he could. 'I love you too,'

And then they were on their way.