I was sitting in a garden filled with rose bushes and tulips, picking the flowers one by one, raising them up to my face, and inhaling their scent.
The whispers of a violin played in the distance and I could hear my Father's voice, "Christine, my child..."
The dream began to disappear and I awoke, breathing heavily, my surroundings slowly returning to my vision.
Usually, when I wake up I tend to have a hard time figuring out where I am but as I felt the rough rope that tied my wrists to the icy bars of the bed frame behind me, the thick coldness filled my throat. The chilly sensation felt frigid against my sweaty skin.
Usually, an initial reaction people usually have to being tied up is to struggle, but I knew that would do me no good.
I looked down at myself realizing that I was no longer in my costume but was now in a white, silky wedding dress, recognizing it as the one that had been previously on the waxed figure of me.
My stomach twisted and I could feel a tear go down my cheek, thinking of the way he would've seen me and the things he might've done while I was out.
"I'm glad to see you're awake," A voice spoke and I knew it to be Erik.
I looked at him half of his face now covered with a white mask.
My eyebrows formed into a frown to show my anger with him.
"Have you gorged yourself at last in your lust for blood, am I now to be prey to your lust for flesh?"
"You are not prey, but a gift," He spoke softly as he had many times before to me as he approached the bed where I lay.
He reached for a hand and I couldn't move as he traced his fingers, gently against my cheek.
"Christine, you are the light in my darkness."
Having the words that I had previously said to Meg before the performance of Don Juan now being repeated back to me made my stomach twist, feeling as if I might throw up.
"If you truly care about me, you would let me go!"
He clutched my chin tightly in his hands, a look in his eyes that made the fear cling to my lungs, making it hard to breathe.
"You will learn to love me, you will learn to do one thing that no one, not even my Mother has ever done."
I could feel sympathy fill my heart, along with the emotions of fear, and anxiety.
I closed my eyes, the tears seeping through and streaming down my face.
My thoughts were of the dream I had filled with roses, the sound of my Father playing the violin, and even the sound of Raoul's voice. His voice seemed so real as if I were actually hearing him whispering my name.
As I opened my eyes those whispers continued, finding myself alone The Phantom having disappeared from sight.
"Christine, Christine?"
I looked around, straining my neck the bonds from my wrists preventing me from going any further.
At first, I thought my ears were playing tricks on me, making me hear Raoul just because I desperately wanted him here. The whispers of my name grew closer though, I saw the red curtain being lifted from up ahead and then slowly, cautiously Raoul crept into view.
His hair was filled with cobwebs, dirt smeared on his cheek, and his suit was torn in multiple places and I wondered of the hell he had to endure to get here.
His eyes landed on me, and relief immediately filled them, just as my own feeling of alleviation replaced the fear and anxiety.
"Christine, are you all right?" He asked as he quickly rushed to my side.
"Yes, I'm okay, but we have to go, quickly, he could be back at any moment," I told him, my eyes darting around as if Erik would appear from the shadows.
I felt him untie the rope from my wrists, once they were untied I got to my feet, and Raoul took my hand, grasping it tightly.
"Then we must get out of here before he does."
He guided me through the curtains, my heart slamming against my chest, making my legs shake as we crossed the stony floor.
It was eerily quiet, the candles weren't lit as they had been, and Erik was still nowhere to be seen.
I looked to the boats, quickly releasing my hand from Raoul's.
"The boat, that's our way out," I told him.
He quickly shook his head.
"No, there's all sorts of traps out there, it's too dangerous to go out that way."
I took his hand, desperately pulling him towards the steps.
"Then we'll take the stairs, now let's go!"
He opened his mouth to say something, when suddenly his eyes dilated, before I could even ask what was wrong I was grabbed roughly by my neck.
YOU ARE READING
The Angel Of Music(REWRITING)
Mystery / ThrillerChristine Daaé for as long as she could remember has heard a voice claiming to be her Angel Of Music that her Father, before he died promised to send her, speaking through the shadows of her room and whenever she was alone. Rumors at the Opera hou...
