{For those of you that requested, a perfect song for Christine in this chapter would be Safe and Sound by Taylor Swift. :)

Also, I think it's worth mentioning that Diable has NOT raped Christine.}

Chapter Twenty-One

Another sheet of music was abruptly tossed across the room, crumpled and torn in half as though it had gone through the roughest journey of it's short life. And yet, it wasn't but literally ten minutes later that another half-written sheet was unceremoniously thrown across the room as a growl of frustration escaped the masked man.

He ran his hands through his ragged, unkempt blonde hair, glaring at the now-blank music sheet in front of him as if it were an old enemy that had long ago committed an unforgivable crime. However, his gaze slowly started to soften as he realized why he couldn't seem to get his fingers to quit stumbling over one another, much less write a song.

"Christine…"

He whispered her name, his voice cracking slightly as his eyes closed and a single tear threatened to spill down his marred cheek beneath the mask. He let it fall, knowing that it would be no use to try to hold it back anyways.

Erik had been searching for his lost Angel diligently, but wherever Diable had taken her, he most definitely had not intended for Christine to be found.

Sighing, he removed his mask and placed it gently on the edge of his piano cover, wiping the tear away and sitting back down to try to compose a song, to help him sharpen his mind and figure out where that devil had drug his innocent little Angel off to.

. . . . . . . . . .

"CHRISTINE!"

Jerking up from her sleep, the brunette looked around with slightly wild eyes, her emerald irises flashing in fear briefly as she looked around the room, searching for the loud voice which had startled her from her wishful dreams.

It wasn't but a second later that Victorina slammed the door open, causing Christine to jump slightly in surprise.

"You're rather jumpy today," the other brunette commented, staring at Christine with a bored expression.

Christine glared at her, turning away as she wrapped the covers around her tightly, laying back down.

"Nope. No more sleep for you, the Master wants you in the dining room now, or he will gladly come up here to feed you himself. Oh and you know how much he enjoys that."

Christine stared at Victorina, slightly surprised by the seemingly jealous tone in the older girl's voice. Victorina stared coldly back, her eyes as icy as the North Pole as she slowly whipped around and left the room, slamming the door behind her.

Shaking her head slightly, Christine got up and dressed in a black dress, which was probably the darkest shade of black she had ever seen.

The neckline plunged farther than Christine felt comfortable with, and hugged her form greatly, exaggerating her every curve; but, alas, it was the most modest outfit Diable had given her.

She quickly brushed out her silky brunette curls, pinning them back as Diable had demanded of her. Slipping her feet into a simple black pair of flats, she hurriedly raced downstairs before Diable came up to fetch her himself.

"Ah, my little kitten, it's about time you decided to join me," the all-too familiar voice purred at her, sending a shiver of disgust down Christine's spine.

Ignoring his comment, she simply sat down, staring at the handsome man blankly.

The evil man resembled her Erik so much… and it literally tore her heart out whenever she was reminded that this was Diable, and not her Angel. Of course, not that she had much hope anyways… her Angel obviously was not coming for her.

"Oh, come my darling, why the long face?" Diable purred cheerily, his voice echoing through the room. "You do know that today is not the day in which you have any excuse to be saddened."

Christine's eyes darted to his amused, flickering, golden ones, frowning slightly in confusion.

A deep chuckle escaped the man before her, wracking his entire muscled body with the force of his amusement. "Today is Thanksgiving Day, Lioness."

Christine's eyes widened, and suddenly her stomach started churning at the thought of what that meant.

"Thats right, my dear! Today marks exactly six months from the time that your Hero left you!"

Tears gathered in her eyes, and her mind tried vainly to shut out what Diable was saying, but in truth: it was all she could focus on.

"So, in honor of this holiday, we're going to do something a little different." The dark lord sat back in his chair, obviously satisfied by the reaction he was withdrawing from the hurting soprano. "You're going to tell me exactly what you are thankful for!"

Christine stared at him in horror, her emerald eyes dull and glazed over with unshed tears as she attempted to imagine that this was nothing but a mere dream; a nightmare of her imagination.

But she knew it was not. The impatient look on Diable's face, as well as the snarl that curled his lips, showed that he was dead serious.

His intent was most definitely to hurt her. It was what he seemed to enjoy as his favorite pastime, really, for when he was not mentally torturing her with all the plans he had which involved Christine being with him for all of eternity, he was emotionally taunting her with the idea that Erik was coming back for her.

At times, he had burst into her room, his golden eyes flashing dangerously as he awoke her from her sleep, a mask covering the right side of his face, and he would urge her to get up so "they could escape before that monster noticed."

And poor Christine, half asleep and already blinded by her need for Erik to come rescue her, would follow along his plan, blinded until he would rip the mask off and cruelly explain to her that Erik was never, ever coming for her and that she would have to just be satisfied with Diable.

"Christine! I haven't all day!"

She was snapped from her thoughts at Diable's harshly-spoken words, and she knew that by the look on the Dark Lord's face, she did not have long at all before he lost his already-short temper and took it out on her in whichever way he so chose to.

Christine's mind raced, trying desperately to think of anything that she could be thankful for. But nothing came to mind… Suddenly her dull eyes brightened as she thought of an idea.

Diable's goal for this little game of his was to torture her again, but she could easily turn that back around on him, for she did have one little last snippet of hope that her Erik would come for her.

Staring into those haunting, golden eyes, she held up her right hand, where the beautiful ring Erik had given her six months ago still rested.

Her tone was one of pure defiance as Christine stood up, letting the light flicker off the diamonds in the ring as she spoke. "You're right. I am very thankful for something. I'm thankful for this promise, the promise which Erik spoke to me before you tossed him away into an endless sea in which you hoped he would drown. But all that you have spoken is true. He is the Angel of Death, the Assassin that worked for the very legend that is the Shah of Persia. He is my Angel, but most of all; which is what I am so thankful for.."

Turning around slowly, her eyes locked on the flashing, furious gaze of Diable, a smile of pure triumph gracing her beautiful face.

"He is your worst enemy, and he's on his way right now."

. . . . . . . . . . .

Erik paced the floor, growling as he swept a candelabra over, sending it crashing to the ground. He had been no more successful in trying to clear his mind than he was at figuring out where Christine was!

He had tossed a map of the world onto the ground beside the piano after he had studied it for hours, attempting to conjure up some place, any place Christine might be.

He had just been about to throw yet another candelabra to the ground, when a shattering sound reached his ears, coming from the direction of the piano.

Quickly grabbing his lasso, Erik stalked towards the music room, blending into the shadows as easily as any person breathes.

Upon seeing no one in the room, he stepped out of the shadows, walking over to the piano to assess what exactly had caused the shattering he had heard.

His eyes immediately caught what had happened, but it wasn't how it had happened that fascinated the dark Angel rather than where it happened.

For there, upon the map he had carelessly tossed on the floor after becoming aggravated with no ideas, was his mask; completely shattered…. in a perfect circle around a certain spot on the map.

Stepping closer, being careful to not tread upon the shattered mask, Erik gazed at the spot on the map that was left clear of the shattered pieces which surrounded everywhere else on the map.

Ile de L'enfer.

Erik's lips twisted into a perfect smirk of triumph, his once-dull, amber eyes brightening into a dusty gold as he realized that he had found the location of his Christine.

{I'm SO SORRY! I truly never wish for my updates to take this long, but life is really hard right now. But, here's your chapter, and even though I feel as if it is rather horrible, at least I managed to write it.

Also, the translation for the place where Christine is... is

Island of Hell

THE GOOD NEWS is that we have definitely surpassed the goal for favorites for my challenge! And, on top of that, we only need 9 more comments before the challenge is met and you guys get your short story, as promised!

I love you guys so much! I can't thank you enough for all of your support and patience with me throughout this story! :) }