Days passed. Or at least… Christine slept and woke a few times. She had no idea how many days she'd been here, as there were no windows. It was disorienting and she missed the sun.

She had done her very best to be pleasant to Erik. She didn't question him or try to escape, she just listened to him talk or read aloud or play his organ. Sometimes she sang with him, and he began giving her voice lessons… and it was clear he would give them whether she wanted them or not.

As time passed, though, her main concern became Raoul. He did not move from the mattress and he always seemed to be drugged. And he was getting thinner. He barely woke up anymore and it worried her constantly. Erik insisted that he was fine, it was just a symptom of his broken leg, and that Christine wasn't to give him anything, not even food or water. He got terribly upset if she tried.

Finally she decided she needed to speak to Raoul when Erik wasn't around. It was difficult, as he never seemed to sleep, but finally he disappeared into his own bedroom- which was absolutely forbidden- and stayed there for enough time that Christine was certain he was asleep.

She put down her book and knelt at Raoul's side, trying to wake him up. "Raoul…" She whispered as she gently shook him. He smelled terrible! He hadn't changed his clothes once in all the time they'd been there, even though Erik had managed to produce a full wardrobe for her. "Raoul, please wake up!"

He let out a groan and opened his eyes, looking up at her. And he smiled dimly. "Hello…"

She returned his smile. "Hello. How do you feel?"

"Tired." He said. "And- and shaky. I'm so hungry…"

She paused at that, confused. "Hungry? Haven't you been eating? Erik's made a plate for you every night, he told me you eat when I'm asleep…"

He slowly shook his head. "No… Christine, my leg…"

"Does it hurt?" She asked.

"No." He said, taking her hand lightly. "It… never did…"

"What?" She asked, her eyes widening. "What do you mean it never did?"

"That." He sighed. "I don't… think it's broken…"

"Perhaps that's just because he's been giving you laudanum." She said.

"I hate it." He replied quietly. "I want… to go home…"

"I know. I do too." She said. "Wait here, I'll get you some food." She got up and searched the kitchen until she found some dried meat and fruit, as well as some water. She knelt beside him once more and began to feed him. "Why hasn't he been giving you food?" She asked.

"He doesn't… like me…" He replied, laying back once the food was gone.

"I know, but that is no reason to withhold food!" She said. "What is going on up there, Raoul? Is he right?"

He shrugged. "I don't know… Perhaps. But I would rather… go up there… and risk it."

She considered that for a moment, and then nodded. "If your leg really isn't broken then maybe you could try to stand? It would make it easier once I discover how to escape."

"Alright… I'll try…" Christine tried to help him to his feet and he was able to stand, but the chain prevented him from going anywhere. One thing was certain though- his leg was certainly not broken. If Erik lied about that then what else had he fabricated?

She heard a noise and quickly helped him back down onto the mattress. "I'll find a way to break your chain, Raoul." She said. "I promise! I'll get us both out!"

He just nodded, tired out by standing. Oh, this was awful! It really was up to her. She went back to her room, but she didn't sleep. Raoul was not being treated, he was being sedated and starved. Why? But she knew it was pointless to ask her host.

The next day, Erik came to her room and announced, "My dear, I have something for which I need your help. You are smaller than I."

"What do you need? I'll help in whatever way I can." She said to keep him happy.

"Follow me." He led her through the home to a door near the forbidden entrance that Christine had never investigated, assuming it was a closet. How wrong she was! He opened it and it revealed a room full of stacks of boxes and barrels, as well as shelves of bottles containing a clear liquid. "What is all of this, Erik?" She asked carefully.

"Did I never tell you that I am a chemist?" He asked cheerfully, leading her to the back of the room. "I adore chemicals of all sorts. Mixing them and seeing what they can do is a passion almost as important as my music."

"Oh." She said, edging away from the bottles. "Isn't that dangerous?"

"It is." He replied. "Extremely. One wrong move and you can die! For example, those bottles are filled with pure sulfur mustard."

"Sulfur mustard?" Christine asked curiously. "I've never heard of such a thing. Is it anything like the kind that you eat?"

"No! No, they are called this because the gas smells vaguely like mustard. You would never want to put this in your body, you would die a painful death." He said, chuckling at the idea. "As it is, even exposure to the skin will cause horrific blisters and burns. Woe upon you if you get it in your eyes or inhale it."

"Oh… But if it is so dangerous then why do you keep it?" She asked.

He paused for a moment. "For protection, my dear. Anyone who tried to break in would find themselves at its mercy."

"I see." She replied. That idea terrified her, but at the same time… could she use it against him? That could go horribly wrong, as she knew nothing about the substance. But it was an idea.

"Now! I need you to climb up this stack of boxes to reach that vent." He pointed to a small opening near the ceiling. "I would send the boxes tumbling, but you are light enough to make it just fine. It's become blocked with some dead creature and we need it clear for air."

"Dead creature?" Christine asked, surprised. "Are you certain?"

"Yes, a cat or a large rodent or some such thing. Go on, up you get. You're the only one who can." He said, taking her hand and pulling her towards the pile. She didn't like that and removed her hand as soon as she could.

"I'm not certain that this is a good idea." She said nervously. "And am I meant to remove the creature with my bare hands?"

"Here." He said, his good mood fading. He took his handkerchief and gave it to her. "Now go."

With that, Christine knew she risked another tantrum if she did not do as he asked, and that wouldn't help her cause at all. So she nodded, took a deep breath, and began to climb. To her relief it felt fairly stable and she reached the vent without problems.

She opened it and indeed found a dead cat. The odd thing was how its flesh was blistered and eaten away, rotting and oozing. It nearly made her sick! She held her breath and used the handkerchief to pull it out by its tail. As she did, however, she froze. From above her head came the sound of a voice. A child's voice. "Two sous! Two sous a paper! Buy a paper, monsieur?" The voice faded, but to Christine this was absolute proof that there was no war above. If there was, boys would not be cheerfully peddling newspapers!

"Christine, come down!" Erik called, getting impatient.

She hesitated. If he found out she heard something… No, best to keep pretending. She had to talk to Raoul! They had to escape, now more than ever!

She climbed back down the stack and dropped the carcass of the cat. "Poor creature." Erik said sadly. "Looks like it got into one of my bottles… This is what sulfur mustard does, Christine. It's a horrible and painful way to die."

"Yes, I can see that. I think I shall go take a bath, if that's alright with you." She said, desperate to get away from him.

"An excellent idea. Wash your hands and arms thoroughly, we can't have you getting sick!" He said it with an intensity that surprised her. "No, no, you mustn't ever be sick. You're perfect."

"I- um… thank you." She said, uncomfortable. "I'll go now."

With that she turned and all but fled the room, going to bathe. Erik was right about one thing- she could not come down with an illness or an injury. Not because she was perfect as he claimed, but because she was desperate to escape from masks and chemicals and lies and darkness.