Kpmdc- Thank you for the lovely review!
A/N: I will be moving fairly quickly in this chapter wrapping up a lot of the characters' loose ends, including Nadir's revenge and Joseph Buquet interspersed with some Erik and Christine moments. Hope you all enjoy!
Warning: In the Nadir Khan vignette, there are scenes of torture. If you are squeamish over that, then you might want to skip it. I have each part in bold and italics so it's easy to distinguish one from another.
Synopsis—Every side has a story. Here, we are getting the snapshots from all the characters about what happened afterwards. For some, it may be a second chance, another closure, or even a beginning.
Snapshots
Raoul de Chagny
He truly knew what Hell was.
Over and over again, Raoul would see Christine jumping in front of that monster and the bullet slamming into her. It was there when he closed his eyes; it was there when he was awake. He could never escape that dreadful moment in his life as Christine bled out because of him, watching the life fade from her blue eyes.
But that would be the beginning of his nightmares.
Indeed, his mind continued to torture him with additional images.
Christine reaching for him, her features pale from the revelation that it was he who killed her, her lips drawing back as she whispered, "You promised you would never hurt me. You promised!"
But worse of all…
Watching that bloodsucker bastard turn her from the sweet Christine he knew to a vicious Christine, a soulless shell who would feed on innocent people.
Did it stop there?
No… in his dreams, the vampire forms of Christine and Erik would come to him, bringing with them all their victims and draining them while Raoul could do nothing but helplessly watch. No matter how many times he would scream for mercy—for those poor people, for him—they would laugh in his face. He would beg them for release. To kill him, to free him from this prison. Anything… Anything to make the drowning screams stop.
But they would keep him alive. Just for their entertainment, for their twisted, perverted sense of justice because it was Raoul that shot her.
He would wake up, his throat burning from his cries and shouts, but the shadows in the darkness… they mocked him. They terrified him.
It would not be long before Erik found him. No doubt the vampire would want vengeance for murdering his mate.
Raoul knew this. He accepted it.
And he was ready.
Even if he died… he would not give up without a fight. He would show that demon that Christine meant everything to him. But the Persian… Damn Nadir Khan to Hell and back. He would not—no refused—to take up arms against Erik. Ever since Christine revealed that Erik had nothing to do with his family's deaths the vampire hunter was having doubts altogether. The legend from his family's stories seemed to uphold the truth in that the demon would not touch the Persian. And if the actual vampire was still out there… Nadir was hunting the wrong one this whole time. Despite the deaths on Erik's hands, the Persian was willing to look the other way for the time being.
This did not sit well with Raoul. Not when he owed it to Sheila Grace, Lucy Hale, Hell even Carlotta Giudicelli, and all the other victims. However, Nadir had the audacity to tell him that he was being reckless and it was nothing more than a suicide mission. Raoul was prepared to die as long as he took Erik down with him. Yet the Persian wrestled him to the ground and took his gun.
"We need to check to make sure if what he has said is true," Nadir told him.
He… no longer it. The simple change of pronouns already spoke volumes that Nadir was sympathizing with the monster. However, Raoul went along with him. Even he was curious to see if Erik's words had a modicum of truth.
They went to Meg and Artie's. While Nadir took it upon himself to tell them what happened, Raoul kept his silence. Apparently, Erik had been telling the truth in releasing their friends from his compulsion. Their memory loss was a huge indicator and Raoul could see that there was nothing strange in their mannerisms. Meg sounded and acted as if it was really her, but then again, he had thought the same thing before she attacked him.
Yet the longer they stayed in the apartment it was evident that the vampire was no longer a hidden eavesdropper. And if Erik was capable of telling the truth… what if he was capable in having the same feelings as a human? Christine kept insisting Erik had emotions and a tortured soul, but Raoul didn't want to think about those implications. It was too horrifying to accept.
Then his mind's eye would return to that room and he would watch the bullet going into Christine.
He saw Meg's expression. He saw the blame. She wasn't the only one who blamed him.
The lamp came from out of nowhere. Raoul knew he hardly flinched and part of him wanted the lamp to hit him, to knock him out so he wouldn't have to think. Thinking made matters worse.
Of course, he didn't remember too much afterwards.
The shock crept up on him. Having Nadir retell everything triggered something. Raoul felt his hands go wet and clammy, and then the chill settled in his veins.
It was foggy. When lucidity returned, Raoul was back in his apartment. Nadir was gone but he left him a note. He was going to look for the real killer that massacred his family. He did leave a warning for Raoul basically demanding him not to go after Erik. Regardless of the desire for revenge, Raoul was certainly broken. It didn't help that the papers contained an obituary for Christine Daaé. It made it all surreal but it became evidently clear that Christine was dead and gone. Erik's attempts must have failed.
Raoul thought it would make him happy. At least her soul was safe. Yet, Christine was dead and it meant she would never come back… he would never see her smile, hear her laugh, hear her sing…
He reached for a drink. His vision swam, blurring.
He welcomed it.
xxXXxx
He didn't know how much time passed. He didn't care. Nothing mattered anymore.
Meg found him. She cleaned him up and said without argument: "We're going to the memorial."
Part of him didn't want to. It meant saying goodbye and he wasn't ready to say it just yet. But he had to see… to know…
There was no body.
Raoul didn't know if he should cry in relief (thinking there was a chance she had survived) or cry in grief (thinking she really was changed). Either way, he could not react during the service.
It wasn't until he returned to his apartment that Raoul made a decision.
He couldn't continue like this.
He had to make things right.
xxXXxx
Raoul saw no reason in keeping the apartment. He packed what he needed and paid the landlord to do with the rest as he wished. Then it was time to go hunting.
If Erik wouldn't come to him, then he would go and draw out the vampire. The plan would have worked, but he was sleep deprived. The nightmares kept him awake and he was running on coffee and energy drinks and pills. He wasn't thinking clearly. Of course, if you had shot the woman you loved you might feel the same. Anyways, he frightened a couple girls… tourists in fact. The women were going clubbing and one—well, she had long, curly dark hair—and he wanted to save them. Save her.
It backfired.
If Raoul was more aware of himself, then he would have known that he was being sloppy and amateurish. He was a cop for Pete's sake and he couldn't keep it together. In the end, the police were called and Raoul was arrested.
Harker was pissed (nothing else was new) and the captain had little choice but to fire him. Raoul had not been reliable lately, his absences saw to it, and despite the investigation, Harker could not keep a loose cannon. It was by the pure grace of God that the women were not going to press charges, and it was Harker's last kindness that he was not going to add on anymore reprimands as long as Raoul left the station without a fuss.
Without a weapon, Raoul was unable to continue his pursuit. At least for that moment he couldn't. Being fired didn't faze him as it should. Raoul couldn't find it in him to even give a rat's ass.
Yet, Seward found him. He was the only person who believed in the vampire, and to be perfectly honest, Raoul was in bad shape. Clearly the confrontation had not gone according to plan.
He tried to help him. Raoul had to give him some credit, but no one could help a broken man when everything in him was shattered. It also didn't help that Seward was doing everything he could to sabotage Raoul from going out at night and finding Erik. There were a lot of arguments, a lot of glass bottles breaking. Seward told Raoul he needed help. Raoul told him to shove it up his ass.
It was astonishing when Meg showed up at Seward's place. Raoul figured that Seward probably thought a friend could cheer him up or persuade him or something.
He didn't bother to fight her when she took him to the hospital. He was weak. Too weak to put up a fight.
But he refused to eat. How could he when he was so pathetic? He murdered Christine and he wasn't sane enough to track down Erik without endangering the public. He was a joke all right.
Nevertheless, he would be visited by Meg, Artie, and Seward. He was unresponsive. What else needed to be said?
It would be a matter of time before he traded this Hell for an eternal one.
Then the strangest thing happened.
He was dreaming. It was too good to be anything but. He saw Christine. She was full of life—beautiful—and full of light. Her smile was simply radiant and her voice was pure music.
It was too much and Raoul wept. He told her how sorry he was, how he never meant for her to be hurt, how he wanted to save her, how he wanted things to go back before the madness and death… He told her this and more as the dream Christine listened and comforted him with reassuring words.
Morning came too soon and Raoul was suddenly feeling hungry.
xxXXxx
Every night she came to him.
In his dreams, Christine was his Christine and she held his hand, stroking it, and spoke about the past. Every night he would ask her what happened and every night she wouldn't. All she said she was where she belonged and everything was all right. He would weep and apologize, begging for forgiveness. She would tell him there was nothing for him to apologize for and there was no forgiveness for she had no grudge. However, it never seemed enough. He knew her blood was on his hands, his soul. And so every night Raoul would ask for her forgiveness.
She never accused or cursed him (although she would not say what he wanted) and every night a piece of him was being restored.
His parents tried seeing him but all they did was destroy what progress he made. They never liked Christine and couldn't understand why he wouldn't move on.
He made them leave. He never wanted them around. He didn't need anyone.
All he needed was Christine. Dream or real, he couldn't tell. But she was exactly what his soul craved.
One night, Christine came and she was sad.
"I thought you would get better," she said.
"I am," he insisted. "Oh, Christine. You have no idea how much I miss you. The nightmares… I don't have them as long as you're near."
She closed her eyes as if in pain. "Raoul… I thought—I hoped this would give you peace. For you to find the strength to heal."
"It does. You do. Everyone thinks I'm crazy but I know the truth. You're alive. And I promise to get better so we can be together."
Her voice choked. "Raoul… haven't you figured it out? I know you know we can't be together. I made a choice."
"No. Don't speak like that," he pleaded.
"I want you to get better," she went on, ignoring him. "I thought if you saw me… if we spent time together you will do the rest on your own. But you want something I can never give. Surely, you know the truth. You can look into my eyes and see there is something different."
"No! Christine…"
"Oh Raoul. I love you. I do. But not like this. You deserve someone better. Someone who can make you happy. You don't need a ghost."
"I need you…"
"That's why I hope you will forgive me. Not that you will remember. But for my own sake. I know you have been torturing yourself Raoul about what happened that night. Allow me to say that I don't regret a single instant of it. I knew what I was doing. I knew who you meant to shoot. I stepped in because I made the decision. It was always going to end like this. But you and Erik… Neither of you were willing to let me decide. I cannot forgive you Raoul because there is nothing to forgive. You gave me what I wanted so he could save me. You gave me a new life. I want to thank you."
Raoul was crying.
Christine took his hand and pressed it to her breast. There was no heartbeat. Only emptiness.
Cupping his cheek, she brushed his tears away with her thumb. "Look at me Raoul," she said softly, a quiet demand that required obedience.
He did.
"It gives me no pleasure to do this, but I must for your soul. Listen Raoul de Chagny carefully. You will do as I tell you…"
When Raoul woke, for the first time since Christine's death, he smiled. Everything was going to be okay.
xxXXxx
It was therapeutic to leave the city and return to a simpler (and less stressful) lifestyle that a small town could offer.
Collingswood, New Jersey felt like a natural fit when Raoul de Chagny was searching for new apartments. The historic town seemed so welcoming and it was a nice change in pace from the chaos of New York City. He applied to the local police department, was hired immediately, and he found a condo not too far from one of the parks.
Life was good.
The only hiccup was that he was often teased about his white hair for someone his age. His colleagues would tease him if it was an ex that caused the color change, and he would joke along with them. The truth was—Raoul didn't know why his hair changed. He coughed it up to the stress that NYC had on him and Christine's death.
It saddened him that he lost her. To make matters worse, she was one of the numerous victims of the Phantom killer. Clearly, he didn't handle the news well, which resulted in his firing; although, he was grateful that Harker did give him a pretty good recommendation. In fact, his ornery captain was pleased that Raoul made some major changes in his life. He did send him a card wishing him the best after Raoul moved. Plus, he would send Raoul updates on the investigation so Raoul would not be kept in the dark. After all, one of the victims was Raoul's former girlfriend and it was the least he could do for the grieving young man.
Of course, Raoul couldn't forget Christine. She was his first love and he had been hoping one day he would marry her. But with each passing day, the pain and loss would lessen. Then one day, Raoul met Elise.
He had been on his daily jog through Cooper River Park when another jogger bumped into him. They both dropped their ear buds and the moment their hands touched and he looked into her green eyes… Raoul was lost.
Eight months later, Raoul was planning on proposing. It was hard to believe that long ago he was willing to die, but hitting rock bottom was what he needed for him to realize how precious life was. Part of him still regretted he never found Christine's killer personally, but at least he knew she was at peace and so was he.
Nadir Khan
He was back on the hunt.
A part of him was afraid that he might not be able to pick up the path. It had been many years and the vampire could have either met his end or moved on to another city or country. There was plenty of fresh blood and all it had to do was find the perfect feast.
Yet, Nadir was forced to admit that Erik was different from other vampires when his former nemesis came to him with information.
Christine was with him—no longer it—and the girl appeared to be adapting to life as a vampire well. She certainly looked as if she was alive with her crimson lips, but the amber eyes implied otherwise. She told Nadir that she and Erik changed their diets. They only fed on people who were bad and escaped being caught. The demons were satisfied with the chase these criminals gave and they did not appear to be from wanting or hungry for bloodlust.
Of course, Nadir would not condone their actions, but Erik and Christine knew that the Persian was not as offended or horrified as he tried to be.
Erik told him that the vampire that murdered his family had been on the move.
"I would have come forward sooner, but Christine and I had unfinished business in New York," Erik said. "Well… she did."
"What Erik means to say, he knew it might be difficult to pick up on a trail that is stone cold by now. So he and I did some searching. It was the least any of us could do," she added.
Christine nudged Erik and the masked vampire reached into his jacket and pulled out an envelope.
There was a small, hard rectangular shape in it and when Nadir opened the flap… it was a thumb-drive.
"It's an audio confirmation," Erik told him. "The vampire likes to brag. If you had taken the time to interrogate besides staking first, then—"
"Erik," Christine interrupted him with a look.
"Listen to it," he corrected. "There is also a sketch of what he looks like. So there shouldn't be any confusion."
Nadir was at a loss for words. What he always wanted… his revenge was in the palm of his hand thanks to a fellow monster.
"I like to consider this as any debt paid," Erik continued. "You have what you always wanted. All I ask in return is for me and Christine to exist without any interruptions or hunts. We will keep our distance as you should with yours."
"We will keep a low profile," Christine rejoined. "There is so much of the world I wish to see. Besides, we will be moving around and we will make sure that no innocent blood is spilled."
"That is a tall order," Nadir said.
Christine chuckled. "Being a vampire has it perks. I hope this brings you what you wanted."
"I don't know what to say," the Persian told the two.
It irritated Erik how annoying this Nadir Khan can be. He was really like his old friend, the daroga. But at least the man could put his ghosts to rest and his family can be at peace.
"Take care. Don't get yourself killed," Erik said.
Nadir couldn't help but laugh. "I will keep that in mind."
Then they were gone.
Nadir closed his fist over the flash drive. Allah… give me the strength for one more hunt. Let this be the last one I will ever do.
xxXXxx
It was exactly what was promised. The flash drive contained everything he needed to know about the vampire—the cocky bloodsucker who thought it was being clever in calling himself Poe Draven. In its former life, it was named Daniel Nelson. An unassuming name and even more unassuming person. Yet, a single bite and taste of blood transformed him into a creature powerful and magnetic and with the misconception that the world was its playground.
Currently, it had decided to take residence in Amsterdam. Plenty to feed upon and not many willing to ask questions. It was a perfect convenience.
Erik provided an accurate and detailed picture and this creature did not know the meaning of being low key.
The vampire must have thought it was a grand joke, but it looked more like a cheap eighties reject from The Lost Boys. A horrible movie in Nadir's opinion, but his wife loved it. He could not believe this was the thing that decided to take on "The Persian." Although, the thing believed it was untouchable. Perhaps that was why it went after the hunter.
The first couple days, Nadir maintained a low profile. Quick in and out observations and a lay of the land. Then, he started to keep an eye on the target.
It did like the party scene.
Eventually, Nadir had a pretty idea how this thing worked. He had watched it long enough to know that the demon was overruled by its own desires and the need to boast. He knew the right bait to lure the vampire. After all, the demon would enjoy the opportunity about taking down the "The Persian" after it had already wiped out his family.
Nadir waited for the right moment to reveal his face so the vampire could get a clear picture. He knew the second the vampire caught wind of him. To maintain the illusion of obliviousness, Nadir had a drink. He even took a drag from some strung out kid. He was careful not to inhibit his mind, but he could act like he was under the influence.
He used his age to show he was not the man he had been. If the demon had any sense, then it would have known it was being set up.
Of course, the demon seized the opportunity and took the bait.
Nadir knew where to go. He had chosen the place well—secluded and dark. It was also the perfect place for him to be "confused" as it was quite literally a dead end.
"Well well well," came the taunting. "It seems I have the so-called Persian cornered. " Draven or Nelson let out a low, menacing cackle as the bones shifted in his face to reveal his demon. "You made a mistake in coming to my city. You would think you would get the message after what I did to your family. Of course… Not that it would matter. You will join them soon."
As it lunged, Nadir was ready to strike. The demon's expression was practically comical as the Persian jabbed the syringe into its throat, instantly incapacitating the vampire. He watched it with indifference as the vampire landed at his feet.
"No. You made a mistake in murdering my family."
xxXXxx
He dragged the lifeless form to an abandoned warehouse he had scoped out previously. His feet crunched on the plastic sheets but it was such a satisfying sound, especially when he knew he wasn't going to make this painless for the bastard. An iron-looking medieval arm chair stood in the center and where he unceremoniously dropped the vampire. Nadir whistled softly to himself as he arranged Draven the way he wanted with its wrists encased in silver cuffs and a few chains wrapped around its bare chest and behind the chair. He checked the locks to make sure they were secured—there was no way it was going to escape. Not even its supernatural strength could save it from the silver laced metal.
By the time it had regained consciousness, Nadir was putting the final touches on laying out his tools on a nearby table. He heard it struggling against his bonds and could not help whistling his merry tune even louder as the vampire howled in pain.
Facing forward, Nadir calmly watched as the vampire writhed in agony. As expected, the silver was certainly doing its part keeping it securely in the chair and causing the flesh to blister and sizzle. Of course, the damage was minimal. He wanted to make sure the vampire would be able to last long enough for what he had planned. Eventually, it will beg for death for good.
"Quit your wailing," Nadir told him. "It's pathetic. I know vampires who are much stronger and can endure more than that."
That did the trick as the vampire reigned in its pained sounds, but the demon was clearly pissed that it had been duped.
"I will rip your throat out!"
"If I had a dollar every time I heard that…" Nadir reached behind him at the table with his instruments and grabbed another chain—shorter in length and with a small round ball—and pressed it into the vampire's mouth as he secured it around the head. Once again, it erupted into muffled screams as its body flailed in its restraints.
"We're going to make this really simple," Nadir said. "I will be doing the talking. You… will let me know if it's too much. After all, I can't have you passing out. Where is the fun in that?"
He went back to his table and drummed his fingers against it as if pondering what to get next. As he did, Nadir continued speaking. "I must admit… I had not expected you to be you. I suppose you thought yourself a clever little vampire. You decided to take on the mighty hunter and I am ashamed to admit that I was overly confident in my abilities. I never thought my family would be in danger. I always made sure on my hunts that my family's scents could not be picked up, but I guess there is always that one tiny slip."
Settling on a mallet, Nadir gently tapped it against his palm as the vampire's demon glared back—its beady red eyes lit with fire. There was no mistaking the look as the one he had been searching for all these years. What a grievous error he almost made in thinking Erik had been responsible.
"I bet you thought it an easy kill. A young wife and mother. A toddler. But you knew who they were, what they meant. You wanted to send a message. Well, considered it received loud and clear."
Then without warning, Nadir brought the mallet smashing down on its hand. The crunching of bone was music to his ears as the creature shrieked into the gag. He gave the same hand another smack—the crackling and squishing of blood mixing with whatever twitching it still had over its appendage. Nadir repeated the same treatment to the other hand. Blood oozed from the wounds as it dribbled over the arms and onto the plastic covered floor.
"You didn't leave anything behind. Nothing! I had nothing left to bury of my Reza or Yasmin."
The memory resurfaced of finding all the blood and the few parts that allowed him to identify as Yasmin's silky hair and Reza's small hand.
Nadir quickly dropped the mallet on the table and picked up the vial of holy water and doused it over the injuries, watching the steam rise as the flesh turned red. Then, he even tossed some on its face as it continued squirming in torment. In a final flourish, he shattered the vial against its face, pressing the jagged pieces into its cheek as the rivets of blood dripped.
The demon roared as it furiously struggled but Nadir felt only the hollow emptiness that the void had been left thanks to this filthy monstrosity. He saw the fangs protruding around the metal ball and he could imagine those incisors ripping into his wife and son and reached for the pliers.
Snapping off one fang than the other took some effort. Nadir wanted it to suffer and he made certain that the process was drawn out as long as he could. Once the teeth were extracted, Nadir let them fall to the ground.
Draven's chest was heaving, his expression flooded with agony.
Yet, the night was not over.
xxXXxx
In the end, Nadir stretched out the torture as long as he could. Once he had to stop and that was because the vampire was about to fall unconscious. He even waited for the dawn and pulled one of the planks off the window so the light could pierce Draven.
It was only when Nadir was growing weary that he decided to end it. Shooting Draven in the head or even the heart was too quick. So he removed the gag and held it taut as he strangled the vampire. The pressure was overwhelming as Draven's movements lessened to nothing. When it was still, Nadir took a saw and proceeded to liberate the head from the neck.
There was one other thing left for him to do.
In the flash drive given to him, there was another file attached. This came from Christine and it was a final request she wanted him to do. He almost had to laugh at the irony but he understood her wish as it became apparent what her unfinished business had been in New York.
A couple weeks later, Seward received a package from an unknown sender with pictures and a note with a confession—a jagged script with blood streaking the page—that claimed it was the Phantom murderer. The corpse's head had one side all mutilated as if it had been mangled in some unfortunate accident and a mask next to it. Seward knew it had to be from none other than the Persian and this was the vampire they had been searching for.
Harker was astonished and while they had no other physical proof… they had to accept it was the killer as there were no more bodies found being drained of blood.
"de Chagny would be happy to know this nightmare is over," the Captain told the scientist.
Seward agreed. He liked the young man and was sad to see him leave, but it had been for the best. At least Raoul would have closure.
xxXXxx
Nadir stuck around New York City for the news to break about the Phantom case. As soon as it did, it was like a heavy weight was lifted off his chest. Not only did he put his family's souls at rest but also he was able to bring some peace to the loved ones who were also affected. Even though he knew the truth, Nadir found himself being quite contented after all. It was a foreign feeling to be certain considering his line of work, but Nadir felt light and free.
Later, he would die quietly in his sleep: a heart attack in the night. He was found with a smile on his face as if he had been overjoyed at seeing someone he hadn't seen in a long time. There was no question that Nadir finally saw his family again.
Joseph Buquet
He didn't know how long he drove or where he was going. All Buquet knew was that Master was terribly displeased with him and the threat of death was enough for him to run away.
Wincing, Buquet pressed his hand against his wound as the blood continued to slowly seep. Getting shot was a bitch but nothing compared to whatever fate awaited him. He reasoned as long he put enough distance from him and the master that he might have a chance at surviving.
He drove until he was out of gas and while the pain in his leg became a dull throbbing he was going to need a new bandage. Fortunately, he was near a gas station and he had a back-up gun hidden beneath the passenger seat. The two fools never bothered to check for additional weapons. Buquet limped his way inside and grabbed whatever first aid supplies he could get and held the clerk at gunpoint, demanding his car keys.
Once he was in the new vehicle, Buquet continued driving until he felt it was safe enough for him to pull over for a few minutes to tend to the bloody wrap.
Hissing through clenched teeth, he removed the soiled bandage and added a fresh one. Buquet was a lucky bastard that the bullet passed through and it avoided hitting any major arteries. The bleeding was lessening so it was obviously a good sign.
He drove on until he stopped at a bar to ditch the stolen car. He then searched the parking lot for a new ride until he found a car unlocked and with the keys in the center console. Buquet was back on the road.
All the while, he thought about his master and the two hunters and the girl. He had no idea if his master made good on his promise and shredded the pesky men or if the girl was now truly the master's. He hadn't wanted to admit it, but he was rather jealous of Christine. She managed to capture the Master's attention and no doubt he will give her the gift of immortality while the faithful Buquet received nothing.
Of course… Buquet betrayed the Master. He abandoned the Master. The Master knew this. He knew Buquet was weak. And Buquet couldn't help the tears from falling in the recognition of his failure.
There was no going back.
The Master would not forgive him.
The first night Buquet spent it in the woods. He drove the car far off the road so it could not be seen, and slept on some leaves and dirt. There were plenty of insects crawling around him so he satisfied his hunger cravings with the tiny morsels. That eased his anxiousness only slightly. The bugs did not judge him.
But he was plagued with nightmares.
The Master made certain of that.
xxXXxx
Buquet lost track how long he had been on the run. The little money he had in his wallet was running out and he couldn't return to the city not without bringing attention to himself or where his master could find him.
It didn't help his addled brain was afflicted with horrible images of being bled out as he was hung upside down. He heard his Master's hideous laugh and his demon dragging out the pain as the torture was relentless. His toes would be cut off, his fingernails pulled from the flesh, and his tongue severed. No amount of pleading or forgiveness would change the Master's mind as he reminded Buquet who was in control.
How the punishments kept him awake!
Even though he had his gun, Buquet didn't think about taking his life. He had made a pledge, a promise that his life was for the master to do with. He couldn't find the strength to override the vow to free himself and just having the thoughts about it had Buquet searching for other punishments for himself. First, he would slap his wrist. Then he progressed in sticking his finger into his injury. Anything to awaken his senses and let it be known how wrong he had been.
After a few days and nights of this never-ending torture, Buquet eventually found himself with a clear mind. He no longer felt the compulsion of his master and the nightmares subsided. His head felt empty, hollow. He was alone.
Instead of bringing him joy, Buquet felt isolated more now than ever. Being under the master's compulsion as long he had been, Buquet felt like he had lost a part of himself. He had his memories and despite his conscience trying to reclaim whatever shred of sanity he had left, Buquet wept over the severed connection. He could not feel sorry for his deeds or actions. He had wanted to do them to please the Master. Now, the Master (for that's all Buquet could call him) was gone forever.
He had to bring him back. He had to prove his loyalty, his worthiness.
Anything to win back his Master's approval.
So Buquet relied on what he knew.
The Master desired blood as sustenance. So blood he would gather.
Using his knowledge on forensic science, Buquet was able to drain a body effectively and disposed of the remains. He was very careful in his selection and he took the proper care in making sure the blood was pure before he would bottle it up and store it in his refrigerator. He knew he only had a couple months before the blood would go bad and it was the utmost importance he found his master.
Storing the bottles in a cooler, Buquet decided the best place to start was where he last saw his master. When he got to the abandoned home, he was quick to discover that his master was no longer there. In fact, he didn't find any bodies. Not even the two men who tried to stop the master.
Confused, Buquet wondered if he missed something.
But he was starting to realize that the hunters must be alive and the Master…
No! He is not dead! I would have known!
The bond that he shared with his master was unlike any connection he had ever known. He knew exactly how his master felt when his temper rose or when he killed or when he… Well, the point remains, Buquet knew things about his master. He would have known if his master was dying. He would have felt it instantaneously. However the bond was disconnected as if the Master willed it.
Dejected, Buquet wished his master had left him a clue or hint where to go next. So Buquet returned home to plan his next move. He would have to keep up the blood supply in case the Master returned. And when he did, Buquet would be ready to welcome him.
xxXXxx
"How delicious!"
Buquet sighed in gratification as he licked his fingers after tasting a pretty juicy beetle. He could feel his strength returning as he reached into the jar and pulled out another plumped bug.
His guest continued weeping as he turned around and lowered himself to peer through the bars of the cage. Her hands and feet were bound and she was gagged to prevent from making any loud and sudden noises. Her hair was dirty and matted, her skin a sickly white but she was too tired and weak to put up much a fuss as he reached through to grab her arm.
It was getting a lot easier with this method as he stuck the IV needle into her vein and started the process to draw out the precious substance. Pretty soon he would have wanted he needed from her until the next one was required.
"The Master will be very happy indeed," he muttered to himself. "Your blood will run through him and when it's time for my reward… I, too, will know the pleasure and taste of life."
While Buquet had not received any signs from his master, he knew that the Master was lurking in the shadows. It would be a matter of time before he made himself known, but Buquet knew he wouldn't be able to resist the scent of a young woman.
He left the window open purposely and since his guest was unable to do anything to bring attention to herself or get help… he didn't see the risk or harm in it.
Satisfied with the fresh batch, Buquet cleaned everything up and put the bottle away. To his immense delight, he found a spider afterwards and saw it as another gift from his dear Master. He tossed the arachnid in his mouth, munching away happily, as he returned to his recliner and turned on the television.
The major headline for the evening was the shocking update on the Phantom murders. Apparently, the killer himself wrote a confession before he died. There was little information on the killer's death or the circumstances, but the police insisted they checked the evidence and found it conclusive that it was the Phantom who wrote to them and who also faced his demise.
Buquet, dumbfounded, felt suddenly numbed as the screen showed a sketch of the murderer. Upon first glance, he thought it was the Master. However, as he looked closely, he saw that it couldn't be. If this wasn't the Master, then someone else decided to take the credit.
Yet, Buquet didn't have time to contemplate the development. His attention was averted to a tapping at his window. He looked up to see an outline of a figure in black, the soft glow of porcelain, and a pair of amber eyes. Beside him was a woman of petite stature with dark clothes.
Stumbling over his feet, Buquet ran to the window balcony and threw open the glass panel.
"Master!" he exclaimed, falling to his knees with clasped hands. "You returned! I knew you would!"
Erik glided in and gazed down at him. "Buquet. You remember Christine?"
The older man turned and recognized the young woman. Indeed, her complexion was much paler than the last time he saw her, but she still had the same tumbling mass of chestnut curls and her blue eyes were now a shimmery tawny. The gift of immortality suited her very well as she stretched her crimson lips into a wide grin.
"I do," Buquet said, rising from the floor.
"Good. You must invite her. It's not polite to leave a lady outside in the cool weather," his Master said.
"Yes, yes. How could I forget? Please, you must come in."
Christine's foot extended and soon she was also inside the apartment. "I thought it would be strange to come back here again, but it's not."
"No it isn't," Erik agreed.
"Master," Buquet interrupted, his hands rubbing together with anticipation. "You have no idea how happy this makes me! I thought you had forsaken me. When I no longer could feel your presence…" Off Erik's look, Buquet swallowed before continuing. "I thought you were angry with me. F-For abandoning you."
"Betrayed, you mean? The demon was furious but as you can tell… I did not seek you out for retribution."
Buquet let out a sigh of relief. "This is good news. Oh Master… I am sorry. So sorry for allowing those hunters get the best of me. I promise that revenge will be ours. Anything. I will do anything! Please. I want to be back in your glory."
Erik closed his eyes as the demon rallied against the idea. It had not forgotten Buquet's selfish behavior and for letting Khan and de Chagny into the house in the first place. Christine's gentle touch brought him back as she gazed into his eyes with understanding. Despite how much the demon loathed the old man, it could not deny that it had led to Christine being with him forever.
"I had released you," Erik started. "You were supposed to live your life anew. A second chance."
Buquet shook his head wildly. "I wanted to be with you Master! I can be good! I will do anything you ask! I want to be worthy!"
Christine gazed upon Buquet with pity on her features. She had thought Erik freeing him would make everything better, but it only seemed to make it worse.
"I knew you would come back," Buquet went on. "I knew I would have to prove my loyalty."
With his renewed energy, Buquet ran to the kitchen where he pulled out a bottle of blood. Holding it up to the two vampires, he did not notice their exchanged looks.
"I did not know when you would come but I knew one day… I always kept a fresh batch for you Master."
As he held out the blood to his master, Buquet's beaming expression soon faltered as neither his master nor his mate took the bottle. Glancing at the blood, Buquet wondered if he messed up. Was the blood not pleasing? Was there something wrong?
His thoughts were interrupted as Christine was soon beside him, her cold hand wrapping around his wrist that held the blood. She pulled the bottle from his grasp and set it on the counter.
"No Christine," Erik said, stepping forward. "You're needed elsewhere."
She looked at her lover, knowing he was right, but her own demon was appalled at the lengths Buquet took in order to procure his "master's" good favor.
"All right," she said.
Buquet frowned and tried to call out to the brunette as she headed to the room where he kept his guest. However, his master materialized in front of him, the amber eyes glowing like sparks of fire. The demon was a wondrous sight to behold and Buquet prostrated himself, knowing it was going to happen. His master was going to give him the gift of immortality.
He held out his arms in veneration as he slightly tilted his head to expose his throat.
Snapping his neck was an effortless task and Erik found no true satisfaction in such a quick death. The demon wanted more but he had promised Christine that Buquet's death would be painless. Erik felt some remorse in his actions for he had been responsible in leading Buquet down this path. Yet, freeing Buquet should have had the same effect as it did when he freed Meg and Artie. The compulsion he had used on Buquet apparently went much further than he expected, and the older man wanted to kill.
Just to please him.
"You did what you could," Christine told him. "You gave him his life. He chose to throw it away."
"How many victims do you think he drained?" Erik asked.
He felt her shrugged. "Hard to say. This one is lucky she's alive. Barely. She's so weak."
Erik turned as his beloved literally dragged the unconsciousness body to the recliner that Buquet once sat in. No doubt her life won't ever be the same again. Compelling her to forget the horror was out of the question. Not when she wasn't awake.
"We can keep tabs on her," Christine suggested. "Then compel her once her strength returns."
"That might work but I do not wish to stay long. While being in this city brings back the happy memories of finding you, loving you… There are still too many ghosts."
"We can't have her suffering. We owe her that much," Christine argued.
Erik couldn't resist his love's wishes and knew she was right.
"Very well. Make the call."
Christine was a step ahead of him as her cell was already at her ear.
By the time the police arrived, the girl was starting to regain consciousness and she was spared seeing her captor's body as she was taken away to a hospital.
Standing over the body, Seward could not ignore the surreality upon seeing his former colleague. It was too bizarre and hauntingly reminiscent of the Phantom murders when they saw the equipment and all those bottles of blood. He knew the killer was gone but he never thought a copycat would end up being someone he had known. And strangely too, Buquet's neck was broken… clean from what he could tell. No way had it happened from a fall.
But who would be strong enough to snap a grown man's neck?
Taking a deep breath, Seward began to process the crime scene.
Meg Giry and Artie Morris
Takes place after the Epilogue…
After waving, Meg checked herself once more in a mirror to make sure everything was in place. Then she slipped on her heels and left the room. She half-hurried down the stairs and was almost stopped by her mother.
"I need some fresh air," Meg told her. "Five minutes and I'll be back."
She didn't give her a mother a chance to reply as Meg continued towards the front door. Once she was outside, she made a beeline to the woods that were on the edge of the grounds. Luckily, she didn't have to go far for Christine emerged from behind a tree.
Meg didn't think twice as she threw her arms around her best friend, tears stinging her eyes. "I knew you would come!" she breathed. "I made sure I posted it everywhere about the wedding taking place and here you are!"
Christine hugged her friend back. "I wouldn't miss it for the world. What kind of Maid of Honor would I be?"
Meg's smile faltered as she drew back. "I wish you could be…"
Christine nodded sadly. "I know. But you know what I mean." Brushing the unpleasantness aside, she admired the bride's appearance. "Meg, you are absolutely stunning."
Indeed she was in her bridal ball gown—a sweetheart cut—with rhinestones covering the bodice and skirt; giving Meg an ethereal glow from the natural moonlight catching the glittering stones. In fact, she looked like a fairy with the waterfall braid and tiara nestled on top. The lace veil that belonged to Meg's grandmother finished the look as she opted for simplicity without earrings or necklace.
Meg certainly made a beautiful bride.
"Not too much?" the bride joked.
Christine laughed. "No. Artie won't know what hit him."
"Speaking of men… Where's Erik?" Meg looked over her friend's shoulder for the vampire. Even though Meg had not forgotten what the Persian said about being under Erik's mind control, she was somewhat leery about coming face-to-face with him.
"He is close by but he is keeping his distance. He is sorry for what he did to you and Artie."
"As he should be," Meg retorted. "It's frightening to know you have these gaps in your memories that you cannot remember. Not that I want to remember but it's my mind that was affected."
"You must wonder why I chose to be with him despite everything."
Meg sighed. "It has crossed my mind but I have long decided that it was not my call to make. If he makes you happy… then I'm happy for you. But he doesn't win points for being my favorite person."
"Oh, Meg… I have so much to tell you but there's not enough time."
"There never is. You will stay, won't you? For the ceremony at least."
"Of course I will. You're my best friend Meg."
"I have to go back but you should have a good spot from the garden." She pointed to where the ceremony was to be held. Facing Christine once more, Meg embraced her again. "Don't ever be a stranger Christine Daaé," she whispered.
"I won't," Christine promised.
Twenty minutes later, the wedding march began playing.
As she promised, Christine was hiding in the garden where she could see the ceremony but no one could see her. It was everything she imagined it would be for her dearest friend. Artie could not stop smiling at his lovely bride not even when he started to cry while delivering his vows. It was so emotional, so pure that Christine wiped at her eyes.
"Was it okay?"
Christine nodded as Erik came beside her, his hand brushing her shoulder lightly. "She wasn't afraid of me if that's what you mean."
"I thought not but…"
"I know, my love," Christine murmured. "But she is not thrilled with you."
Erik winced. "You two were very close. It only felt natural to do what I did to make sure you were safe."
"I know that but Meg doesn't. She is only happy that I am happy."
"Are you? Happy?" Erik asked with hesitation.
Christine glanced over her shoulder as she arched her brow. "Yes. I don't regret anything Erik. I told you so and I will keep to my word."
"Good." Erik reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring with a single diamond. "I thought this would be fitting for me to declare my intentions for now and forever."
Christine gasped as he slipped the ring onto her ring finger. "Erik…"
"I love you Christine."
"I love you too."
As they gazed upon the other, they heard in the background as the minister publicly announced that the groom could kiss his bride.
While Erik and Christine sealed eternity with a kiss, Meg and Artie did the same.
xxXXxx
It was funny how the years seemed to fly by, but Christine was never far from Meg's thoughts. One could not go through life's milestones without reflecting about one's best friend.
When she found out she was pregnant with her son, Meg had grabbed her cell to call Christine but stopped herself when she realized she had no way to contact her. It was harder to pretend to others that Christine was dead when in fact she was not dead; at least not in the sense of the word. However, Meg played the part well and never slipped while talking about Christine in the past tense.
Yet, she wished she had her friend close by for sentimental reasons.
Artie knew about Christine (Meg confided in him) and he would never admit it to his wife, but he was glad that Christine kept away. He loved her as a friend but as a vampire… It was something else.
But Christine did return. Meg was pregnant for the second time—this one was a girl—and she happened to be at the wrong place at the right time.
Artie had been working late and Quincey's allergies were acting up. Naturally they were out of medicine so Meg scooped up the toddler and grabbed her purse to go to the pharmacy.
It was dusky but Meg timed that it would take no longer than ten minutes to and back as the store wasn't far from the brownstone they lived in. She held her son tightly with her purse clenched under her armpit as she moved quickly. Unfortunately, there had been recent reports of muggings in the area, and even though Artie would be pissed to know she was doing this on her own, Meg couldn't risk it if Quincey got worse.
Luckily, the pregnancy didn't slow her down.
Meg still had her lean, dancer physique and she carried her children well. Even at five months she didn't show as much and she wasn't slowing down. They arrived at the pharmacy in record time and soon Meg had her son's medicine ready to go.
Going home… that became eventful.
Meg yelped when someone yanked her arm, nearly causing her to lose her balance. Quincey started to whimper but she held her boy against her breast as the gun lined up between her eyes.
"Give me your purse."
Meg trembled, her heart beating wildly, but she handed it over. The mugger snatched it from her and motioned with his gun to the plastic bag in her other hand.
"That too."
Meg protested. "Y-You can't! My son is sick and—"
"Shut up!" He pulled the hammer, the ominous click silencing her at once. She could buy more… especially when Artie came home. But the fact this guy wanted to steal from a child… She narrowed her gaze as Quincey was already starting to cry.
"Tell him to shut up or I'll—"
His words were cut off suddenly as he was ripped away from his spot. The gun hit the ground as Meg watched it fall. The man's scream was muffled but there was no denying the animalistic growl from the shadows.
Oddly, Meg wasn't frightened.
She heard the thud of a body being dropped and turned her head to see her rescuer coming into the light. Meg cried out in relief as Christine grinned at her, her friend's purse dangling from her fingertips.
"Thought you would want this back," Christine said amusement in her voice.
"Thank you! Oh my—thank you!" Staring at her friend, Meg couldn't believe she was seeing her again. "Christine, you're a sight for sore eyes."
"How's the little one?" Christine inquired, nodding to the still weeping boy.
"A little shaken but he'll be okay once we're home…" Meg trailed off over how normal this sounded when a dead body was not far from where they stood.
Sensing her discomfort, Christine told her, "Go home. I'll take care of him and we can talk. Okay?"
"Sure," Meg replied, not thinking but glad to get away to the safety of home. They were in the brownstone no more than fifteen minutes when a knocking interrupted Meg as she calmed and dressed Quincey for bed. His medicine was taken and he wasn't sneezing up a storm so it was a win-win there.
She almost forgotten about Christine, and without thinking, opened the door to see who it was.
However, it was the apparent invisible barrier that prevented Christine from entering. As much as Meg had to wrap her brain around this vampire business, she wasn't willing to put her child in danger. Old friend or not.
Christine understood without Meg saying a word, and while she could not fault her friend's hesitation, she wanted to assure the blonde and her son that she was not a threat. She crouched down so she was at eye-level with the three-year-old, but he hid behind his mother's leg, clutching the fabric of her pants as he buried his face into her.
"Hi there," Christine said softly. "I'm Christine. What's your name?"
The mop of messy blonde locks peeked out as he sniffled. "Q-Quincey."
"That's a cool name!" That earned her a blush as the tips of his ears turned pink. But he was smiling. "You were very brave too."
That struck a chord in him as he puffed out his tiny chest and kept only one hand on his mother's leg. He gazed at her curiously; his shyness now forgotten. Christine rose as she continued to grin fondly. "He's beautiful," she told Meg. "And the baby?"
"Five months." Meg rested her hand on her belly proudly. "It's a girl."
"You and Artie must be really happy."
"We are." Meg couldn't believe how little Christine had changed in the few years, but then again, immortality had its perks. There was something oddly comforting about seeing the Christine she knew and loved. It was like nothing had changed and yet… She couldn't forget how her friend attacked that man, how her face transformed to a hungry demonic creature, how her fangs tore into his throat…
And how she had saved them from further harm.
"So, what is new with you?" Meg almost winced on how ridiculous that sounded but Christine didn't seem to mind.
"Things have been going well," Christine said. "Erik and I have been traveling but I was feeling homesick. Convincing Erik to come back was no easy task but I really wanted to see you. I've been keeping up on social media and while I know I haven't been around… I thought it was time to come back."
"Wow. Traveling a lot?"
"Yeah. We just came back from Paris. It was so lovely."
"Artie and I talked about going before we started our family, but then one thing led to another and it'll be when the kids are in college." She chuckled. "How did Van Helsing take the flying? I assume you—?"
"He hated it," Christine admitted. "Not that I can blame him. Flying in cargo isn't exactly first class but at least you don't have to worry about crying children or snoring passengers."
It was absurd in having this normal conversation until the comment about flying cargo. Once more Meg was forced to be reminded her friend was preternatural. However, it was clearly evident she was purposely keeping her best friend outside. Not that Christine complained. Meg knew very well if she wanted in then she had to use her compulsion to make Meg invite her. Yet, Christine did not and was rather respectful of Meg's wishes. Of course, the voice in Meg's head was telling her that Christine wasn't a threat, she was her friend, and she wouldn't hurt them.
If she wanted to hurt you or Quincey… she had her chance in that alley.
Not to mention, when Meg last saw Christine on her wedding day, the brunette was very much like her former self and didn't seem to be in the mood to feed on the guests.
No.
Christine would not turn all fangy and gorged on their blood. That much was clear. But there was someone else Meg wasn't too certain about.
As if sensing where her thoughts turned, Christine tried assuring her friend. "He's not nearby. Erik did not want to upset you or Artie."
"How chivalrous of him," Meg remarked dryly.
"He is sorry," Christine continued. "I know it won't make up for what you and Artie lost, but Erik does feel terrible in using you two. His intentions at the time were not as noble as they should have been; although, I know it's not an excuse. I was plenty confused myself and angry and hurt." Her eyes slipped closed as the memories played out on her features. Then, she opened them and smiled wanly. "I hope one day you might be able to forgive him. Maybe forgive me too."
"Forgive you?"
Christine nodded. "It was so sudden. Everything. I never had the chance to say goodbye."
"Christine…" Meg shifted her weight. "Look… I know Raoul shot you. I know it was an accident. And while it is hard to stomach what Erik did to me, to Artie—he brought you back. I cannot hate him for that. I don't hate you either. I don't even hate what you are. I look at you and I see the old Christine. Despite everything… I see you. Apart from your eye color changing—I don't know how it's possible for you to be you, but there you have it. You came to my wedding. You helped Raoul. You saved his life."
If it was possible for a vampire to look embarrassed, Christine certainly did. "I only did what I had to do. I didn't want him to suffer on my account."
"Well, he's not," Meg responded. "Do you know he got married last year? And their expecting too."
Christine eyes glowed warmly. "Yes. I care about him very much. It makes me happy to see he has moved on and is no longer in pain."
"Have you seen him?"
"I have. A couple times. I wanted to make sure that there wasn't any side effects or relapses in the compulsion I gave him. I am not proud I had to go that far but I had little choice. Anyways, it seemed to work and it was like watching the same Raoul before all this darkness. You would never know the horrors he had faced. I will watch over him and you and your family as well. You guys were the closest thing to a family and I want to make sure you are safe and happy."
Always caring. That sounded like Christine.
Meg exhaled. "Thank you. Really."
"You're my best friend. I will always protect you."
Meg believed her.
Stepping to the side, the blonde swept her arm out in welcome. "Christine, I would love it for you to come in. I think Quincey would like to get to know his Aunt."
There was no denying the joy that spread over Christine's face as she entered the house.
xxXXxx
Over the years, Christine would stop by and visit Meg and her family. Artie was surprised but he got over it pretty quickly since his wife was adamant that Christine was no danger to them or the children. If anything, the children adored their Aunt Christine as mysterious and secretive as she was and never seeming to age despite the gaps in time when they last saw her. They wouldn't even question why Auntie Christine only came to the house in the evenings, but on some level, they understood she was special.
And Christine doted on her nephew and her namesake niece. Being a vampire meant she could never have a child of her own and she loved them as if they were her own. She was eternally grateful that Meg had opened her home and family to her and watching them grow was a pleasure unlike she had ever known.
The only thing missing from the happy family portrait was her Erik.
Christine wanted him to be a part of the family, but she wasn't going to push the issue not when Meg and Artie never once asked about him. And while Erik knew she was happy spending time in their company, he had to quell his demon and its jealousy that it had to share Christine. She hadn't been lying when she told Meg that Erik was sorry for how the way things turned out. He was remorseful in taking advantage of her friends, but there wasn't a way to repair the damage. His atonement was to stay in the shadows and give his mate all the time she desired to spend with her friend whether he liked it or not.
Christine wished he could have a taste of the happiness she found with her nephew and niece. She knew he would adore them as much as she did. Plus, little Christine had a knack for singing. No doubt Erik would make a wonderful teacher for the young girl.
Of course, Christine kept all of this to herself. It was up to Meg and Artie if they wanted to let Erik into their lives.
It wasn't until one night that Meg turned to Christine and asked her how Erik was doing. It was the first time ever that she directly asked about Christine's mate. Astonished, Christine told her how he was well. Meg seemed satisfied and that was that.
Shortly thereafter, bit by bit, Meg would ask after Erik, and then out of the blue, she asked Christine to bring Erik by the next time she visited.
Yes… Meg and Artie talked long and hard about it. They decided to forgive him and introduce the children to the equally as secretive and elusive Uncle Erik.
Indeed, things were turning around.
Regardless of Christine's assurances, Erik had thought this sudden invitation was highly suspect and her friends were plotting his demise. Eventually his wariness subsided as Quincey and little Christine were quite enamored with their Uncle Erik. More so when Erik offered to give them music and voice lessons.
As the children became adults, Erik and Christine continued to watch over them. They were there when young Christine earned her first role on Broadway. She was in the chorus but it was the beginning of a very successful career. Quincey followed his father's footsteps in becoming a partner in Artie's antique business, but he maintained his passion for playing the violin.
While they hadn't discussed the idea of ever revealing Erik and Christine's vampiric natures, Meg and Artie knew questions were bound to arise. In fact, when Quincey and Christine were teenagers, the topic came up about their aunt and uncle's defying looks, their lack of eating habits, and the constant evening visits. Meg had spoken to Christine on this matter and the brunette was adamant she didn't want the truth to be known. She wanted Quincey and Christine to have normal lives without the thought or knowledge of the existence of vampires.
So Christine and Erik began the habit of dying their hair to give the "illusion" of aging. The ruse did work but they knew their nephew and niece were not stupid and would later see through the disguise. Inevitably, they had to leave Quincey and Christine. Saying they were moving out of the country was not enough, and so Erik staged an accident that would "take" their lives. It broke their hearts to create this lie and force their family into thinking they were dead.
Especially since Meg and Artie knew the truth.
It wouldn't be fair to visit them and not see the children (especially since they were adults) and Christine wasn't willing to put Meg and Artie into a situation that would be uncomfortable or deceptive.
When Erik and Christine "died," they made certain they also left behind Meg and Artie too.
However, the two were never far as they remained as the family's guardian angels.
xxXXxx
"What do you guys think?"
Meg and Artie exchanged looks, their hands clasped together, as they pondered the proposition.
Indeed, the years have been kind to them and despite reaching the golden years… Meg and Artie Morris had a lot to be grateful for. Quincey and Christine were married to wonderful spouses and they had a gaggle of grandchildren for them to spoil. There was nothing they would wish to take back.
But there was something to say about the possibility of living forever.
Even if you had to become a vampire.
They were shocked but not too surprised when Erik and Christine showed up on their doorstep. They had always known they were lurking about—their presence a sign of comfort and protection. But to have this type of proposal out on the table… It was something that was delicate and one that required an awful lot of consideration.
However, Erik and Christine were not pressuring them. They only wanted to offer a gift that was precious to them and one that would ensure Meg and Artie they could always be with their family.
"It won't be easy," Christine said.
Erik nodded. "You will wish to make yourself known to them, but you can find contentment in watching afar."
Tempting all right.
Meg squeezed Artie's hand as he nodded imperceptibly. She knew they were both making the right decision.
Looking at her two dearest friends, Meg took a deep breath.
"We decided…"
Next—The End.
You know I had to give one last cliffhanger for this story, right?