A/N. First, I extended the last chapter a few days after I uploaded it, so check back to make sure you're caught up. I won't be doing these very often, but I want to thank everyone for the reviews, favorites, and follows! Most importantly, I am in need of a Beta, so if anyone is willing or knows anyone willing to take on this story, let me know. Thanks and enjoy!

Everything tires with time, and starts to seek some opposition, to save it from itself."

― Clive Barker

Chapter Two

Christine didn't even bother contacting the police after finding the mysteriously placed music. What would she even say? "Yes, Officer, someone broke into my apartment, only to return something. Yes, I said return. Oh, then I started hearing voices last night." Ha, that would bode well. They would either think she was daft or on some hallucinogenic drug, and they would lock her up.

No, she didn't have time to deal with what could have just been a very elaborate prank from her roommate. Besides, she hadn't received anymore cryptic notes since that night, which was almost five days ago. It's just a joke, a silly little joke, right…

Unfortunately, that didn't stop her from being on edge the next few days, nor keep her from jumping at every little creak her small apartment made. She had avoided staying out for too long, either. No more late night library sessions or quick stops at the grocery store. Just a straight trip from the university to her apartment complex. There were too many places for someone to hide in the outside world, and Christine felt a small amount of relief being around familiar surroundings. She was just taking precautions, that's all. She had kept telling herself it was nothing as she tried to fall asleep at night, repeating the saying as if it ward off all evils. But, call her crazy, she could have sworn the shadows were crawling and following her everywhere she went. Every time she closed her eyes she felt them touching and trusting her to their terrifying secrets. Damn it all! If she wasn't already insane, the paranoia and lack of sleep would surely do her in. What could the shadows do anyway? Prevent sunburn? Hah, how terrifying!

One evening, when Christine got a chance to take a small nap without fear, Meg had come home by banging the door open causing Christine to shriek in terror and tumble off the couch. The girl hadn't been home for days, most likely spending the night at her boyfriend of the month's apartment, and poor Christine was not expecting the noisy woman to be back already.

"Jesus, what's the matter with you?" her dark haired roommate inquired with a little bit of guilt in her eyes. Clearly, she could see her little spastic blonde roommate had been on edge for quite some time judging from the wild look in her eyes. Perhaps she should tone down the dramatic entrances for a while.

"N-nothing, I'm just tired." Christine replied quickly getting off the floor and attempted to reclaim her dignity. At least she only sputtered out a half lie, and, judging by the look on Meg's face, she didn't believe a word of it, either. Thankfully, Meg realized Christine did not want to talk about it, and didn't mention her transparent little lie. Well, Christine was actually exhausted, but Meg didn't need to know about her paranoia and the mini anxiety attacks she had every time something miniscule like a leaf flew by. That part was irrelevant and of no concern to her petite friend. Christine had been furiously studying while dealing with oddities in her life, and it exhausted her to no end.

Her exams started on Monday, and she had her audition the week after that with practices running throughout the course of winter break if she even made it in the ensemble. There were very talented musicians, and actors at the university dying to get a role in the spring show, and only the most promising were selected for a part. Those who didn't became part of the cast became part of the tech crew, a death sentence for an aspiring musician.

The spring performance was a tradition for wealthy patrons and alumni to attend as a way to kill time and brandish their wealth. It's mainly the reason why the University bought a large theater a few miles from campus, and updated the interior to accommodate the first class' taste in fine materials. After all, the fine arts department had to get their budget from somewhere to pay many high salaries. There was also an old rumor of alumni guests recruiting graduating students for Broadway and national touring companies, but these were only rumors. Still, one going into the cruel art of show business has to take some of these rumors seriously for a possibility of acquiring fame. It was stressful for everyone, but the rewards were for too great to give up and go the easy route.

She had worked too hard to give everything up and her dearly departed father would be so, so disappointed in her. Christine would never forgive herself if she just quit.

On Wednesday, the sun was long past set as Christine was furiously bent over a thick book mumbling words and phrases to memorize. Her coffee had long ago gone cold, and the ambience of her small grey room was becoming an eye sore. But, she had made the decision to stay inside her bedroom with only one door and one window to wearily keep an eye on. No one could get in without her knowing or so she hoped.

After giving up on understanding the details of the chapter she was reading, Christine pulled out her audition piece from the drawer in her desk. She needed to look at something other than numbers and music was always a welcoming reprieve. She began humming the melody she knew by heart while studying the old, feminine pencil markings in the margins. It was a simple and safe song that would hopefully bring out the clarity in her soprano voice while auditioning. Simple and safe, just how she lived her life. Out of the spotlight, an unheard of little mouse comfortably hiding away in her shell of solitude. Her father had taken too many risks in his lifetime, and look at him now- dead and buried without as much as a goodbye.

Christine shook her head and mentally scolded herself for thinking of her dearly beloved father so grimly. He always told her that if she lived with God and music in her heart, the angel of music would visit her and she would live the fullest life this mortal world had to offer. Death had other plans, however, and that's when she knew that it was all a lie. There wasn't a God, there never was.

A slight breath of cold wind snuck into the safety of her warm apartment and kissed her pale cheek leaving small goose bumps on her flesh.

The room was getting a bit cold, so she pulled on her oversized sweater, and contemplated turning the heat up again while oblivious to the source.

The window in her bedroom was the culprit, and was letting in a bit of a December draft that was gently blowing on her gossamer curtains and caressing Christine's shivering body like cold dead hands. She was pulling her sweater tighter around her small petite form in efforts to stay safe from the cold, then she suddenly felt a chill down her spine that was not from the bitter wind. It was a revolting and terrifying chill that indicated something was watching her, waiting for her to make the next move. She froze her movements not even taking a single breath before she slowly turned her head towards that cursed window.

It was cracked open!

Christine sprang out her chair knocking it to the floor while making a dash for the window slamming it with such a force the glass dangerously rattled.

She was getting tired of these little games! She furiously thought to herself while fighting the urge to lose her lunch. She peeked out from behind her curtains looking into the black abyss like a child peering out from the safety of blankets. There wasn't anyone as far as her human eye could see. Nothing! What was she expecting on the top floor, anyways? Only a cat could climb around the small ledges without falling to its death and it was still pushing its luck. Perhaps she had left the window open or maybe Meg did when trying to cook something. Meg venting out her charred cooking was more plausible than a ghost opening her window to give her a cold!

Christine began to step closer to the window, peeling the curtains further back for one last one look when her tow unexpectedly and painfully hit a solid object behind the curtains. With a cry of annoyance, she threw the curtains to the side to curse the blasted object and once again was filled with cold dread upon seeing a foreign object casually leaning against the wall.

Impossible!

Fear was lodged in her throat and she was holding back a scream of terror upon glancing the supple leather folder. She could have believed it when the thought of the object belonging to Meg came up if it wasn't for the beautifully scripted 'C' embossed on the front cover. So many thoughts were flowing through her head and she had no idea how long she stood there staring at the leather folder in pure horror before she bent down to pick it up. The folder was high quality leather that felt so soft to touch Christine wanted to rub it against her cheek, if only for a moment... What could it be! She thought to herself. Is it filled with photos? Letters? Threats? Christine had an internal battle of whether I was a good idea to open it or throw back out the window where she believed it came from.

But, when she did open it, she was surprised to find it wasn't either photos or threats.

More Music! Music scrawled in the familiar red ink that was in her vocal range. She read a few pages playing the melody in her head and was deeply overwhelmed within moments. There was so much beauty on the thick papers, and she felt it lovingly weave its delicate fingers into her soul. The notes sung of the purest of love and longing that the lyrics could not. Oh, but the lyrics were such magnificent poetry that would bring Shakespeare to shame. Poor little Christine had wept that night while in the presence of the greatest work she had ever laid eyes on, but, curiously, there wasn't any composer's name written on the piece anywhere. Christine brushed the hot tears off her face careful to not get it on the pages and flipped to the last page eager to know how the song ended and if there was more information on the angelic writer. However, Christine broke out of her trance upon seeing the clumsy handwritten note addressed to her, and she was once again filled with apprehension.

"This Piece Would Better Suit Your Voice For The Audition. "

Well, Damn.

Christine's finals came and went, and on Thursday, after she finished her last final of the semester, she was ready to take the longest nap of her life. But, she knew, that was impossible with her audition in a few days, and she needed to make up hours at work since she took a few days off to study. Even when Christine did manage to get a few hours of sleep, she was in a restless, panicked state that often felt like she was even more drained then before when waking up/ The constant fear of being watched, and someone breaking in was going to drive her crazy if it didn't stop soon.

Well, you didn't want to be alone! You got what you wished for, you stupid girl! She thought to herself.

Christine would later regret not mentioning these terrifying ordeals to Meg, to an authority figure or just someone instead of dealing with it on her own.

However, her behavior didn't go unnoticed by the few people that were close to her. Meg was beginning to worry, like the mother hen she always was, as she took notice of Christine's sickly palor and dark shadows under her eyes. The girl already had pale enough skin, and now she was looking like a corpse! On Thursday evening, Meg was sick of her ghost of a roommate's harmful behavior, and took charge. She barged into Christine's room, which startled the poor girl out of her wits, and asked- no she demanded that she go out with her tonight.

"It'll be fun, I promise." Meg offered to the skeptical and worn out looking girl. The aforementioned "fun" Meg was referring to was a high class dinner party her parents dragged her to every year that bored Meg to tears But, Christine didn't need to know that. The tiny young woman needed to eat a meal that didn't consist of coffee and bagels, and perhaps drink a bit of the fine wine the servers poured the moment your glass was empty. Just a bit of wine…well, perhaps quite a bit.

Christine still had a look of disdain on her face which frustrated Meg to no end. She was going out tonight whether she liked it or not!

"Oh, come on!" Meg Exclaimed. "My dad is a no show, as per usual, so we have an empty seat, and you just so happen to be free tonight."

"I have to work in the morning, Meg." Christine reminded her friend while still not entirely convinced Meg asked her to go without some hidden agenda "Besides, I don't have anything elegant to wear that doesn't look like something I bought for a high school dance." It was a pitiful excuse, and Christine knew it, but she was too tired to come up with some witty and elaborate story.

"Ha! Nothing to wear you say?" Meg shouted as she moved back to her room and quickly came back with a pile a dresses and shoes. Ugh, Meg knew she would make the 'I have nothing to wear' excuse.

"I'll have you back early tonight! Just please come out, and enjoy yourself for once." She then unceremoniously dropped the pile of clothes at Christine's feet, and the blonde haired girl glanced at the layers of chiffon and silk of various colors. With a defeated sigh, Christine agreed to go which resulted in a squeal of delight from her roommate.

"Dinner is at seven, by the way!" Meg shouted as she hurriedly left the room to get ready. Christine looked at the clock, and noticed that it was already six and she panicked a bit. "You only gave me a less than thirty minutes to get ready!" She cried out to her smug friend who already had her makeup and hair done.

"I suppose you better hurry up and pick a dress, then!" Meg called from the bathroom probably putting on lipstick by the way her words were muffled. With a sigh of annoyance, Christine shifted through the pile of fabric attempting to look for something that would suit her. Meg had a habit of buying heavily beaded and sequined dresses that were borderline gaudy, but she managed to find a delicate crème colored dress with a sweetheart neckline. Long flowing chiffon draped over a silky under layer that flowed like water. Meg walked in on Christine holding up the gown and snorted at her choice.

"Of course you would pick that one. You know my mom bought that for me, right?"

"Oh, hush." Christine replied. "I'd rather not look like a walking disco ball." And she referred to the sparkling pile of dresses which resulted in Meg uttering out a disappointed sigh. The dress was safe, and nobody would notice her among the sea of faces. Especially, someone terrorizing her. Or, so she thought.

No, she would be out surrounded by people who could easily hear her scream if someone tried to grab her! The banquet would, also, be well lit with grand chandeliers that would chase away all the shadows that have been haunting her.

Yes, it would be very safe she thought in reassurance.