Christine sat in her small dressing room, curled up with a particularly riveting thriller novel that Erik had recommended to her. He had said that she would enjoy it, and at first she was skeptical, once she had gotten through the first chapter, she found herself unable to put it down. She was reading it in all the free time she had, eager to find out the ending. Who had been the murderer? The sister? The aunt? The forbidden lover in a crime of passion?

"Edward's breath was coming in sharp gasps as he looked around the eerie, mist filled cemetery. The note said that he would be able to confront his wife's killer here, so long as he came alone at midnight on the 31 of October. Edward suddenly cursed the lack of a moon. Coupled with the mist that came up above his head and reduced his vision, he was highly susceptible to be attacked by the killer, should this all be a trap.

But of course it was a trap. How could it not be? Edward was close, so close, to finding Maryanne's killer, and they knew it, too. A twig cracked behind him, and Edward whirled around, ready to face whomever it might be.

No one was there.

The fact that no one was there only heightened Edward's sense of impending doom, and all at once he was eager to be out of the cemetery. Deciding to leave before he got himself killed, Edward tightened his cloak about him.

The large city clock chimed 12:15, and Edward hurried toward the cemetery gates, when they slammed shut just in front of his nose. He became aware of an eerie, haunting melody that someone seemed to be whispering. It couldn't have been more than a child's voice that was singing, but that made it all the more chilling.

Edward's heart rate was extremely elevated now from the adrenaline coursing through his body. He could hear metal scraping, and he turned again, to find a figure cloaked entirely in black, their face shrouded by shadow and the mist. They held a rusty dagger in their hand, and slowly advanced toward Edward.

"No! Stop! Who are you?" Edward said, backing against the closed gate to delay his inevitable-"

There was a light, cold touch on Christine's shoulder, and she fairly shrieked, scrambling out of the chair and turning to face who it was, dropping the book in the process.

It was Erik.

"Oh, Erik. It's only you. I didn't hear you come in, and you startled me." She placed a hand over her breast to calm herself, laughing self consciously.

"Yes, I gathered you didn't hear me, although I addressed you several times. What on earth are you reading that would make you jump like that?" he said, gesturing to the book that was now on the floor.

"The novel you said I would enjoy. 'Kenzington Palace,'" Christine said, picking it up off of the floor.

Erik laughed then and looked at Christine fondly. "Christine, I recommended you read 'Whittington Palace,' not 'Kenzington Palace.' There's a vast difference between the two. Although, I must admit that I'm surprised you would find enjoyment out of something so dark," he said with amusement. "Perhaps I shall find others of the like and you may read them as well."

"I'd like that very much, Erik," Christine said. "Mystery and thriller novels have always captured my special attention when it comes to books, because you never know how it's going to end."

Oneshot #1 is done! Please note that Idont' own any of the titles, characters, or places mentioned in this one shot, if they are, in fact, real. Please read and review, if it pleases you to do so!