Author's Notes: Here's a new chapter for everyone. I had half written this on notebook paper and finally got the motivation to type it up. Thanks to Genne and the rest of my wonderful readers for leaving so many reviews and inspiring me to update faster this time. Enjoy and review as always!

Chapter 15: Alone Once More

A large crystal lamp cast a yellow circle of light into the otherwise darkened room. It wavered and danced playfully over the heavy velvet curtains drawn to fend off the rising darkness outside, gave the redwood furniture a rosy glow, and illuminated the haggard shadows on Raoul de Chagny's face as he sat tensely in his chair. Across from him lounged the shape of another man.

"Now are you certain, Vicomte, that your fiancé left no word of where she might have gone?"

'No, she did not," Raoul answered, eyeing the squat diminutive creature with the oiled mustache and beady eyes solemnly.

"Well, Vicome, I know not what to say," continued Detective Cartier. "So far, we have discovered no evidence of any sort of a violent struggle in conjunction to a kidnapping." He continued unnerved after noticing a bitter grimace on Raoul's face at the words "violent struggle" and "kidnapping". "My men have already questioned all of your staff as well as the surrounding locals and they claim to have neither heard nor seen anything unusual."

"What is it that you imply, Monsieur?" asked Raoul with an edge to his voice. The poor man had not slept for three nights now…ever since Christine's disappearance.

"I am saying, Vicomte, that perhaps Mlle. Daae left on her own free will," replied the detective with a pointed look. He rose abruptly from his chair and proceeded to pace back and forth across the drawing room with his hands folded behind him.

"No!" Raoul cried and was himself startled by the desperation so apparent in his voice. "No," he repeated with lowered head, "You are mistaken. It is not like Christine these days to leave without first informing me of her whereabouts. It is not like her at all." Then turning to the detective with the look of a man who had lost everything, he pleaded, "Please, you must help me. Help me to find her."

Hearing these words uttered in such a broken tone could not but move the analytical, oftentimes cold mind of Detective Cartier. "Keep courage, Vicomte. I will continue to do my best. It has been three days however since you claim to have discovered your fiancé's disappearance and all we have found so far is a letter, as you already know written it seems in her hand with the plea that you try not to locate her whereabouts. That her leaving is "for the best". Judging from the tone, there does exist the possibility that Mlle. Daae was coerced into such a hasty act." Detective Cartier paused in his steps and leant one elbow against a mantelpiece. He continued in a bland voice, "Vicomte, have we your permission to search the rest of Mlle. Daae's quarters now?"

At first, Raoul had remained adamant in the police not disturbing any of Christine's possessions. The idea of strangers rummaging through and forcing open locked drawers of hers repulsed him. Surely, Christine would come back horrified at the spectacle and chide him for being so easily alarmed. And in the back of his mind, Raoul half-expected her to truly walk through the front door any moment…the chill bringing a rosy hue to her bright cheeks and a half-smile sweetly upon her lips. He sighed wearily before answering, "Yes. Yes, do whatever is necessary. I will not interfere anymore."

"Thank you for your cooperation." Cartier nodded and seemed to debating something. "If I may, I would also like to take the time to ask you some questions which would aid us in our investigation."

"I will do my best," replied Raoul with his eyes half-closed.

"Then I will proceed and be likewise exceedingly blunt. Have you and Mlle. Daae quarreled recently? Has she any enemies whom you might suspect?"

"Detective, these are very personal questions."

"Yes but considering the life of your fiancé might hang in the balance if she indeed was taken captive or blackmailed, I consider them a necessity." There was the old ruthless look in Cartier's eyes much as in that of a bloodhound closing fast on its prey.

"And should I refuse to answer you?" Raoul felt himself deeply torn.

"It is your choice," replied Cartier simply. In this back of his mind, he already knew that it was only a matter of time before the Vicomte caved.

Meanwhile, already a full day's train ride away from Paris, a pale lady sat stiffly in an open carriage. Beside her rested the lumpy shape of an oversized leather suitcase. If not for the heavy black veil and hat covering up most her head, one might have seen the prettiest and most expressive pair of chocolate brown eyes in all of France. But she wore the veil, partly to hide her face and partly to cover up her complexion, pale with fear and sorrow.

"It's for the best," Christine repeated over and over to herself, sometimes in her mind and sometimes out loud. "I will not put the man I love in danger."

She had restrained her tears in the past three days. Ever since she had rushed out of the mansion with her red travel cloak on and an unsuspecting young maid dragging the luggage behind. Stationed half a mile away was a horse-drawn carriage which Christine had expressly hired for this purpose. Having once got inside, she had ordered the driver very calmly to take her to the nearest train station out of Paris.

The maid dress which she had cleverly arrayed herself in helped dispel suspicious questions from curious travelers. After all, on the surface she seemed nothing more than a, ordinary servant out running errands for her master.

Initially, Christine had no thought whatsoever of where she could go after her departure from the mansion. The initial stages of her plan was only just formulated and she had only a vague idea of going somewhere…anywhere far, far away where Raoul would not think to look for her. In her mind, she pictured the look of terror and grief on her fiancé's face and the thought so haunted her that at times, she could hardly breathe let alone sleep or eat.

And there was a part of her, the romantic tragic part inherited from nearly a lifetime on stage which urged herself to commit the great sin of taking her own life. To simply wander away to a bank of the Rhine river and throw herself in. For after all, what did she have to live for anymore? She was nothing but a curse to all those who loved her and whom she loved in return. She had no living family to go to and almost no worldly possession herself. And by extinguishing herself from society, Christine would be doing the greatest act of kindness for Raoul and the rest of humanity. It was a tragic notion, a noble thought: the idea of dying for the sake of love. And in this case, the easiest it seemed.

With this view in mind, she had walked on the fourth night to a mossy bank and gazed into the watery surface of the Rhine. It was late afternoon and how calm and tranquil the waters flowed in that park! How they seemed to call to her and urge in their inexplicably babbling language to jump into the great unknown.

She had as a child listened to her father tell her fantastic stories of strange creatures that lived in rivers, of beautiful mermaids who swam up through the ocean to frolic in green lagoons. It was only naturally poetic then that she would end her own life by water then. The world did not need one as she who only contributed to its suffering.

And with a great splash and closed eyes, Christine Daae leapt.

Certainly, death by drowning was nothing romantic when the coldness of the water ripped her breath away and her billowing skirts mercilessly dragged her up and down the cold, dark surface like a floating top. The icy current was gradually leading to a comfortable numbness. She was dimly aware of someone yelling before the river sucked her back down into its grey depths. A desperate gulp of air and water entered her lungs.

'Oh God,' Christine prayed.

From the pocket of her skirt, bits of paper escaped and floated like white lily-pads onto the surface. There they stewed in smeared ink before scattering.

Upon closer examination, one could still read the contents of the latest letter. It was written in a spidery hand with heavy black ink.

My dear Madame Daae,

I'm afraid, darling, that though reasonable man as I am, your lack of action has left me very impatient. Now, I will proceed to ask you politely once more to break off your engagement to the Vicomte at once and leave Paris forever. Otherwise, worse results will occur for all including yourself and your fiancé.

And to prove to you, Mlle Daae that I jest not, should you choose to ignore my warnings again, a very serious accident will occur to one in your household. Now I trust, being an honorable gentlewoman as you are, that you will heed this last letter and take me in all seriousness.

Remember; speak of this to no one. Recall, too, that I have men stationed all across Paris who will continuously watch your every move. It will be in everyone's favor then that you not attempt to do anything rash.

Cordially yours,

An Old Friend

The wind was pushing with a new intensity as night approached. Overhead a stirring owl uttered eerie calls which echoed darkly in the rising darkness. Other than that, the only other sounds were the rustling of trees and the frantic clop, clop of hooves which left swirls of browning leaves in its wake. Upon closer inspection, one could barely catch a white blur before it vanished away like a phantom ghost.

Raoul was completely unaware of his present surroundings at that moment. He could not feel the coldness pressing against his white shirt nor the rush of air which streaked through his flowing hair. Every muscle in his body was tense, moving in perfect synchrony with the powerful gallops of the horse he was riding.

The reins were gripped so tightly in his hands that the knuckles were almost white. These were given a mighty jerk before the horse was sent sailing over a shallow stream. A split second later, both rider and animal landed effortless on the other side. Ripples alone marked their passage.

He was strangely reminded of a situation only several months before when he had rode as quickly and as frantically on the back of a horse. The air was just as cold as that day and foggy too. The moon had again hung round and full in the horizon as Raoul sought frantically for Christine. That day, he was as a classic hero come straight out of a romance novel, bareback against a white stallion and a sword at his side. Ready to fight for honor and love.

But that was then and this is now. That day, he had felt that Christine's love was with him, had truly believed deep in his heart that no matter what obstacles lay in their paths they would inevitably overcome anything with trust and time. That day, he had known who his enemy was. But this time was different. This time, Raoul had no idea whatsoever who the shapeless phantom was who plotted such evil and the idea suffocated him. It left him feeling utterly helpless and terrified.

"Christine! Christine!" The sound of his cries penetrated the cold rush of wind and broke forth fresh and clear across the night sky. "Christine!"

There was no response and of course he had never truly expected one at all. However, it wasn't entirely true that no one was able to hear him.

Under the shade of a towering sycamore tree, lounged two figures against the rippling bark. One was clearly a lady, covered in shadows and visible only by the sparkle in her dark eyes and white throat.

"We will drive him mad, you know," remarked the man. His voice was deep, velvety as he leaned closer to the woman.

She resisted her initial urges to push him away and only showed her impatience by the slight lowering of her face. 'Don't be ridiculous. With time and experience, he will forget her completely."

"Yes but…"

"Do you doubt me?" An irritated glance to rebuke his words.

"No, of course not. Only I do not believe it will be so easy." He quickly soothed.

"Nothing is ever easy especially when it comes to the human heart. But we have already come this far. There is no turning back now." There was a slight falter in her tone as if doubt had already entered her mind. She spoke with irony.

"Darling…" began the man. There was a slight stir in the shadows reflecting movement from his lean frame.

"Hush!" interrupted the lady and then with a desperate gesture, she seized and took possession of his hand. It was very cold. "You love me, yes?"

There was a silent pause as he debated furiously with all reason, all natural instincts.

"Answer me."

"More than my own life. You must know it by now," he whispered ardently into the darkness, grasping the little white hand firmly in his.

"Then you will do this for my sake, dear pet."

"And stand idly by and watch you harm yourself too, I suppose?"

"Yes, yes…anything to protect my family."

"I do not understand," he murmured, confusion evident in his eyes. When she would not answer, the man only shook his head, dropped her hand, and took a step back from among the trees.

She followed and said with a tone of almost fierce conviction in her voice. "Ah, but you will in time. I promise."

Thanks for Reading: The mystery of Raoul and Christine develops further….stay tuned until next time. And yup, since spring break is starting in less than a week for me, I'll hopefully have more time to relax and write.