Thank you for clicking into this story! It means so much!! So please read, enjoy and review! (The review part is very important.)

Dedication: To drgn grl and Erika Daae. Fellow Christine haters! ...sorry, I just don't like her. I'm happy for you if you do...but...Yeah. I like to stab Christine.

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Disclaimer: I own nothing Phantom of the Opera related or anything copy-righted by anyone. I no own, so you no sue.

Katrina and Orry remained close to each other all afternoon and almost all evening. They even went to dinner at the local Cojean, grabbing roast vegetable sandwiches and fruit smoothies. They avoided spending too much time in the Opera House and when they had to, they spent it around people, hanging out in the tech room (a room with two tvs, a DVD player, a game system and a couple couches) with the other band members, laughing too loud, talking too much.

But soon...it would be lights out. They weren't safe after lights out. That's when the eyes watched from every direction and songs played through their minds and dreams. Their dreams weren't even theirs anymore. Shapes haunted the corridors of their minds and nightmares came to life. They talked about their plans in whispers when there was a lot of noise surrounding them and they decided to each go their separate rooms that night, that way they didn't raise suspicions. From either the Phantom or Madame Yowling. As they walked down the Halls after Yowling had yelled at the people in the tech room to go to bed, they felt their skin crawl as eyes watched them from the shadows.

Katrina parted from Orry as he entered his dorm. She felt him watching her was she walked back to her room, around a corner and out of sight. As Orry's eyes vanished from view, the presense of another grew thicker in the air. She felt her soul shudder as she heard soft strains of music. She hurried past the girl's dorms, soft rock playing from a stereo within. After she had passed, the music faded. So it had only been right there. Okay. She was good. Nothing was wrong. Nothing.

The eyes followed her.

She hurried into her room, shutting the door firmly. She leaned against the door for a moment, shaking slightly. What would he do when he realized what had happened? When he realized she knew who he really was? Erik, an Angel of Music. Erik, the Phantom of the Opera. Erik, a dream. Erik...a nightmare. She shakily set her coffee mug down on her desk and grabbed her shower caddy. She needed a shower. A hot one. Preferably a long one. But seeing as how lights out was in fifteen minutes...she'd be lucky to get seven minutes. She grabbed her towel, a change of clothes and her shower slippers before heading out of the door again.

Erik didn't follow her this time. He had planned this for quite a while, without the idea when to put it into action. Now he knew. Tonight was the night. She would be his. He didn't care what happened, as long as his Angel remained by his side. Forever, this time. He silently slipped from her closet, a small vial in his hands.

Nearly eight minutes later, Katrina came flip-flopping back to her room, grateful to not have eyes following her. Or watching her in the bathroom for that matter...a light blush covered her cheeks before she shook it off. That was disgustingly perverted of her....She entered her room cautiously. Nothing seemed to be amiss...which was a good thing. She put everything away, picking up her coffee cup again. She cuddled the familiar warm ceramic, sighing. Secretly, she was glad that the Opera House didn't have a chandelier now...She drained the rest of her coffee and set the mug down. She walked about, starting to pick up her stuff. These clothes were clean, these weren't. These shoes go over here next to the door, these pants in this drawer. What the heck was this candy wrapper doing out of the trash can?

As she tossed it back into the trashcan, she started feeling tired. Not just sleepy, but exhausted. The kind of tired where you suddenly just collapse. She yawned, her vision blurring slightly. Wow...she hadn't felt this tired in...like...ever. She stumbled over to her bed and managed to fall on it before her eyes closed. She didn't even hear her phone ring from the bedside table. She was asleep in seconds.

A pair of golden eyes moved from her closet to her bedside.

Shadows...singing...moving...the elements of her dreams that night seemed strange. They didn't make sense, not even when they were put together. She didn't even know if she were awake or asleep at times. Everything melded together in a strange hazy fog. Sometimes it even felt as if she were being carried by a pair of thin yet strong arms. She thought she had opened her eyes once to see a pair of golden eyes looking down at her as the ceiling moved overhead. Strange, bizarre dreams. That was it. No more coffee before bed for her.

She rolled over in her covers. It felt like it was almost time for her alarm to go off. Yes, it was time for it to go off. Why wasn't it going off? Where was her "Time Warp"? She rolled over again and opened her eyes to an unfamiliar ceiling. She blinked. What? Huh? She closed her eyes tightly and opened them again. The ceiling was still unfamiliar. She turned her head to look at the room. Alarms started going off in her head as her eyes widened. Not her desk. Not her closet. Not her chair. And not only that, everything was too freakin' neat! She bolted upright, staring at the bed she was laying on. Unknown bed! Completely unknown bed!! STRANGE BED!!

She rolled out of it so fast that when her feet hit the floor, they slipped and she almost fell. She saved herself by catching the back of a chair that was close by. She let go of it as soon as she was steady like it was white-hot metal. She hurried over to the door and yanked on the handle. It was locked. She stared at it for a few moments before yanking on it again. Still locked. What the bloody Hell? She was locked...in a strange room...only God knew where...and she was supposed to be on her way to school. She felt like screaming. Better not, though. She let go of the handle (it wasn't coming unlocked anytime soon), turned and stared about the room, studying it. First thing that hit her mind, it was a really nice room. Like one that you would find in a hotel. Nicely furnished and decorated, but without a personality of it's own, like a room assumes as a person lives in it for a while. There was a bed (messy from her twisting and turning during sleep), a desk with a few books and a stack of papers on it, a wardrobe leaning against a wall, a small vanity, a carpet. Now she could see that there was another door, on the other side of the room.

She steadied herself and walked over, trying this handle. This one opened. She very cautiously slid the door open, only to find a bathroom. Sink, shower, toilet, lots of fluffy towels. Rather normal, if also tasteful, as well. She closed the door. She had no immediate desire to use any of stuff within. She looked about the room again. There was something weird about this place...what was it? She stared about with confusion. What was wrong with this picture? It had everything a normal bedroom would have, if a touch more fancy and tasteful than she was used to. Her eyes scanned the walls, fingers twitching slightly. And why couldn't she see where she was? Normally, at this time of day, the sun would be up past the roof-tops of Paris and-

That was it. Her eyes flew along the walls again. She couldn't see the sky. She couldn't see the sun. She couldn't see Paris. There were no windows. Two doors, but no windows. No. Windows. Dieu... Weird. Extremely freaking weird. She sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed her eyes. Where was she? Was she even still in Paris? And to top it all off, she was hungry! She looked about, as if her surroundings had changed to give her a clue as to where to get something to eat. Nope. Nada. Not even a clue as to who owned this place. Come to think of it, whoever owned this place had ...kidnapped her! She felt the bottom drop out of her stomach, which was feeling weird to begin with. She felt like she was going to be sick. The Patriots. It had to be them. They had somehow managed to sneak into the Opera House, grab her from her bedroom and take her somewhere where no doubt they were planning to do something really, really horrid for revenge.

Okay. Now she was going to be sick. The door to the bathroom slammed and the sounds of her heaving were muffled by space and distance.

Erik looked up from the music that he was composing at his desk in the main cavern. He glanced towards her door. Ah, she was awake. And by the sound of it...being rather violently sick. He felt guilt twinge his conscience as he thought about the sedative he had slipped into her coffee the night before. It had been for her own good at the moment, but apparently she was allergic to it. Best use a different one next time...He stood fluidly and slipped his mask back on. He looked about his lair. It looked much like it had all those years ago. Fine fabrics were draped about, the mirrors were no longer broken, the dirt and grime that had accumulated over the years was gone, everything sparkled like new, candles glittered from their places about his organ and tables. He couldn't have his Angel residing in squalor, after all. He silently moved to her door, standing outside it for a moment.

'Apologize for bringing her here. But be gentle. Shower her with attention. But be sincere. And above all...you must control your temper. Yes, good. Very good. Remember to be understanding. Apologize for the incident at the rock show. Be her Angel. Erik. Angel. Christine....Katrina. Angel. She is the Angel... Now. Knock.' But his hand wouldn't lift. He remained frozen outside her door. He couldn't do it. Damnation...

She opened the bathroom door again, face a touch paler with spots of high color in her cheeks. She couldn't remember the last time she had been that sick. Not even water could wash the taste away. She trembled slightly at the sight of her room, whoops, holding cell, the reminder that she was kidnapped and awaiting whatever tortures those Patriots could come up with. She would have been sick again at the mental images that brought up, but everything in her stomach was gone. She didn't want to collapse on the bed, no matter how inviting it was, she didn't want to give the wrong idea. She gingerly walked over and barely sat in the chair.

'I guess I'm just going to have to wait.' she thought with dread. She really wasn't looking forward to what they had in mind. Maybe she could use something in here for a weapon...she let her eyes fly over the contents of the room again before a soft, almost timid knock sounded at the door. She felt all of her muscles tense up, ready to throw a punch, run or fight someone off. Her eyes slowly moved to the door, her heart pounding so loud and hard that she could actually hear it...

Was she alright? She hadn't answered. He must've knocked too softly. He raised his gloved hand once more and knocked again, this time a touch louder.

She felt her heart skitter in fright as another, louder knock sounded. What were they doing?! Knocking?! Like she was supposed to answer? They had the freakin' door locked!

He dithered silently outside her door. Why wasn't she answering? What was wrong? His hand reached for the knob, only to remember that he had locked it. Oh. Right. He pulled the small key out of his pocket.

There was a metallic click. They had unlocked the door. Oh, God. Oh God, they were coming in! She bolted from the chair to the other side of the bed, hiding with her head poking above the mattress at the door. At least now she was somewhat in a defensible position. Her eyes fell on some books on the desk nearby. The door swung open.

Erik pushed the door open only to duck at the last second from a book that was heaved at him. The heavy book flew past his head, flying into the lair and skidded along the floor until it came to rest on the other side of the room. He looked back in to see Katrina's eyes staring at him from behind the bed. They were large and frightened.

"Katrina. What on Earth-?"

"Erik? That's you, right?" she said, remaining hidden behind the bed.

"What-? Yes, yes, it's me." he said, taking one more step into the room. Another book was launched at his head. He barely ducked once more. "Katrina!"

"Don't you dare take one more step!" she ordered. Such was his surprise at being ordered about in his own home that he just stood there, rather stunned.

"Excusez-moi...?" he managed as Katrina stood up, eyes still wide with fright but also with a hint of anger about the edges.

"You don't move a muscle." she said. "This is all your doing, right? Me being here?" Erik nodded, keeping an eagle eye out for any more books headed his way. "How dare you?! Mon Dieu! I'm supposed to be at school! Where are we? Where the freaking-?"

"Katrina, you haven't left the Opera House." he said quickly, hands ready to fly up and catch any other projectiles.

"Come again?" she said, a book in her hands again. If she was still within the Opera House, that meant...she had to be down in the old catacombs. She was actually in his lair...! Ohhh, not good.

"You have not left the Opera House. You are still in Paris and you are safe."

"About as safe as I can be in the Phantom of the Opera's clutches." she snapped, then quickly bit her lip. She didn't mean to spill that she knew who he was. He was so still. Not even the muscles in his hands were moving. The silence from him was almost too much to bear. The golden eyes blinked once. "Erik...."

The door silently closed behind him as he left. The silence was worse than any noise that he could have ever made. So much worse.

Yes, I know it's short. But it's good. ^^ Review for me, please!! Please? Forgive me for not writing a longer chapter, but I like the shortness. It works. ^^

And for those who do not speak French...

Mon Dieu = My God

Dieu = God

Excusez-moi = Excuse me