Your Voice

Chapter 30

Thanks for being so patient when I take forever to update and thanks for 7k reads! This one's very short but I didn't want to leave you guys hanging so here we go! WHOOP WHOOP! xx

Erik

"Will?" exclaims Christine.

"That's right," he smirks. His face seems perfectly symmetrical, as if someone had used a ruler to make his features flawless. His jawline is so sharp it could cut glass. His looks are impeccable but for one thing - his eyes. Those cold, lifeless pits of darkness stare at me intensely as he bites his bottom lip. "Hello, Erik. I see you brought Christine along," Will says and presses his lips together, his face devoid of emotion.

"What do you want?" My eyes briefly flicker to the gleaming gun in his pocket. "How do you even know me?"

"Don't you know? You're a legend here, Mr Destler. The Opera Ghost, the Phantom of the Opera, Erik Destler, who mysteriously disappeared after the fire of the Opera Populaire."

"How do you know my name? Only a few know-"

"I have big ears," he says smugly.

"Erik." Christine murmurs and her hand presses against my back. I turn to see her sweating, her hand on her stomach.

"Oh my God, Christine, what's going on?" I kneel down to support her as she falls to her knees.

"I don't know..." she hoarsely moans, her hands on her stomach, her shoulders hunched over in pain. She inaudibly mumbles something, her eyes opening wide. "Macaroons," she says louder, looking at Will in horror.

"WHAT DID YOU PUT IN THEM?!" I scream at him.

"Can't tell you," he says casually, inspecting his fingernails. "Family secret."

Before I realize it, my tense fist slams into Will's face. He stumbles backwards, his hand covering his face. His hand comes away bloody. "Erik, I don't want to fight you," he says, surprisingly calmly and approaching me slowly.

"DON'T. Come near me," I spit out, "unless you want another one." I show him my fists.

"Okay," he shrugs and steps back. His calm demeanor in such a peril is driving me insane.

"Christine," I shake her shoulders; she is on her back on the floor, her face paler than mozzarella. Her eyes remain shut so I shake her harder. "Christine," I call with more urgency. "Christine, wake up."

"Are you done yet?" Will yawns impatiently.

"SHUT UP!" I yell at him.

I try again and again, but she is not responding. My heart is clenched with fear of the worst. I force myself to be rational and I place two fingers under her nose.

Nothing.