Erik let the unconscious girl slump to the ground, coming to terms with how lonely he really was. How could he believe that this random girl had been his one and only angel? These are the types of thoughts that made him loathe life without her.

He sneered at his thoughts, turning his head down to look at the awkwardly positioned girl on the cold floor. If it weren't for the fact that this girl's forehead was slightly bruising, and that her ankle was twisted in a sickening way, he would've left her there to find her own way out when she came to. But for that one reason alone, that is why he found himself carrying her back to his abode.

Awkwardly, he laid her down in the canoe and set across the water. Turning his head to glance at her state once more, he tsked as he found her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. She had this coming for sneaking in his tunnels. He would take no pity towards her or her wounds. As soon as she woke up, and he would know that she wouldn't pass out again, he would send her back crying tears of repent. Or at least he hoped for that outcome.

As he hopped out of the canoe to pull it as far out of the water as he could, he couldn't help but remember that the only room suitable for one to rest in was the swan room. Again, he cursed his luck for having to let this wretched girl touch such a...sacred...bed. Placing this girl in that bed would be like letting her share a grave with Christine, something he would find very contemptible.

As he "gently" adjusted her in the swan bed, his mood turning sour once again, he crossed his arms to assess his work. He had tucked the blanket so tightly, he would be sure that she wouldn't be able to leave or interrupt him...whatever he may be doing when that does happen. His eyes scanned her face which was covered by her hair after he flicked it out of the way in order to aggressively fluff her pillow. Remembering the gentleman he's supposed to be, he carefully swiped her hair away, allowed her face to be shown once again. He found himself gaping at her face for a millisecond before he remembered that she wasn't really Christine.

They had very minor differences in their facial features, but he couldn't help getting the wind knocked out of him when he saw the resemblance once more. Having this type of reaction did worry him to some degree. What if he started treating her like Christine? He would drive himself insane before letting that happen.

"Sleep well little wretch. The sooner you wake, the sooner I can dispose of you." he snarled as he placed an icepack on her forehead, and stomped out of the room.

She ran down another hallway, her breathing had now come in short bursts. Swinging towards what looked like an open hallway, she came face to face with more fire blazing furiously. Panic struck as she went to turn around, but found fire also traveling towards her. The smoke wouldn't allow her to take in enough air to scream, sucking in only caused her lungs to tighten even more. She stood suffocating and anxiously watching the fire advance. Before the fire could even lick her, the floor gave way.

Immediately she took in a large breath of the sweet oxygen. She froze in place when he heard shouts coming from the darkness that surrounded her. Hesitantly, she stood and followed the voices. Progressing closer to the voices, she soon realized that it seemed to be a mix of shouting and anguish singing. Finally she reached a small circular room. There were papers strewn haphazardly around the room along with small little trinkets. Her eyes soon found the source of the voices. A man sitting at a desk, who; she couldn't tell, and a woman with curly tendrils falling over her long white dress.

She watched as the woman appeared to mutter an apology to the man as she exchanged something with him. Whatever she had given him, it caused him to slouch and clutch it to his chest as she walked away. She watched as the man opened up his palm to look at the object before he shoved it into his desk drawer, slamming his fist on the table as he swiftly stood and left the room.

"Wait! Could you help me get out of here?" Her plea rang like an echo.

"Jace. Wake up."

She quickly looked around and questioned, "What? I am?"

"No, Jace, wake up." the voice ringed again.

Jace scrunched her eyes closed, opening them once more to find that she was no longer in the circular room, but laying down on a velvety soft bed.

Bed?!

Jace lifted her head, only to lay back down when her vision blanked out and her head started throbbing. Not that that was the only thing keeping her down, but the fact that the sheets were tucked in so tight, she could only lift her head. Observing the room a bit, she noticed that she was in a room the looked like it was carved out of a black rock. The bed she was laying on was swan shaped, the drapes that seem to go along with the bed pulled back giving her a view of the melancholy looking dresser and paintings. Everything in this room seemed to have a sad look to it. The fact that everything was dust covered and looked like they haven't been used in forever made her feel slightly uncomfortable. Was she in someone's room?

She snapped her head to the side, cursing the throbbing punishment she got with it, when she heard a crash with some cussing that seemed to be in French.

French...

Oh yes. She was in France... and in some deep trouble. Her heart race quickened when she realized that she was with the man, who she now believes could be the Phantom, somewhere hidden inside the opera house. Oh god, her director is going to kill her. Would she be able to find her way out without him knowing? Probably not, unless she would like to become a walking target for all the traps he might've set up. But would she rather die by his hand, slowly and painfully, or have a quick death? That was the question that made her decide to sneak out of the room.

After struggling to wiggle out of the bed sheets, she tip-toed as swiftly as she could to the doorway. Slowly she peeked an eye out to find her way of escape as well as see where the Phantom is. She found a cape clad figure hunched over a desk, his hands clenched together resting against his forehead. turning her head slightly she saw a walkway across...the water. Looking around for one last search of an easier way out, she sighed when she found none. Hopefully the water didn't contain anything deadly.

The steps leading to the shore were taken one at a time, a minute pause on every step to make sure the phantom hadn't heard her. Reaching the bottom she tip-toed some more to the water where she dipped her toe in, covering her mouth from the urge to squeal from the coldness.

'Just don't think about it, and you'll be able to get past it.' She thought, dipping her toe in once more while suppressing another squeal.

A couple more steps into the water and she was now wading in it. She was no where closer to the walkway than what she hoped, and she didn't know if she'd be able to take the coldness anymore. As she started to move forward once again, she heard a scraping noise of what seemed to be a certain chair against the stone floor. Her blood ran cold as she looked over her shoulder to see the Phantom write something down before he turned his body and stopped when he spotted her in the water.

His muscles visibly tensed as he swiftly walked towards some levers. Their eyes never left each other while he slammed down each lever. Her eyes snapped towards her only means of escape and saw metal gates lowering. Panic rose in her chest as she started swimming as fast as she could towards the opening. The swimming was in vain though, the gate had already closed. She clenched onto the gates and shook, once again in a vain attempt to get free.

It seemed like hours before the Phantom got into his canoe to retrieve the girl who had clung to the gate after shaking it failed to work. He took his time to get to her, letting her failure sink in as a bit of punishment. When he got to her, she didn't even resist as he yanked her into the canoe. Her failure to escape had worked its way into her head, making her body shut down as she started thinking of all the different ways he could kill her once they got back to shore.

When he pulled the canoe back onto shore, he went to pick Jace up, making sure he didn't do it very carefully. He plopped her down onto the ground. At this point, he knew that she was already fearing the worse, and his silence seemed to make her even more uncomfortable. He debated yelling at her, invoking more fear, or to just leave her there and let her imagination do it's job.

He decided to leave her there, but not without a small comment that would surely make her mind run even more than it already was.
"I'll be back. We'll have a little chat when I do come back."

Woo! Chaper...uh, I dunno. This took so much longer than it really should've.

I've been very busy with high school and art classes that I haven't had time to work on any of my stories. I cannot tell you how much I missed writing.

Thanks for the comments, favorites, and follows! I'll try to reply to comments next chapter! :)

Until next time!