Chapter 3: The Admirer

"Christian..."

He woke up slightly, "Hm? Wh-who's there?" He propped himself up on his elbows, looking left, looking right. No one... He looked left again and almost jumped out of his bed.

Satine?!

"Sa... wait... n-wait... Satine?” Christian babbled. Satine walked up to him, placing a white finger on his lips.
"Shush."

She sat down next to him, Christian still not believing that his lover is sitting right there.

"Wha... you're dead... y-you can't-"

"Love, I might be dead in reality, but you know what?", she traced her finger down his lips, his chin, his neck, all the way to his chest, "I'm not dead here.", she left a cold finger on his heart.

Christian got up, curling into her arms, feeling the embrace he missed for months and months. Not wanting to leave, just steal time just for one day.
She pulled him away slightly, standing back up but leaning in, "I've come to warn you."

The little puppy-eyes went into a state of confusion. "Warn me? A-about who, or what?"

"This admirer of yours."

"What about?"

"I don't want this secret admirateur to hurt you."

"Hurt me? Satine... who is it? You know, don't you? Please tell me!"

She stepped back, turning her back to him, "Then it wouldn't be a secret, would it?"

He laughed, playing along with her ‘game,' "Come on... tell me, please?"

She turned around... wait... it wasn't a she... it was a he-

~

"Cwistian?"

Christian woke up, shaking, startled, breathing heavily. Toulouse had his hand on his shoulder from shaking him awake. "Its seven o'cwock, I wead the wetta', you shou'd be getting weady!"

Christian stared back at him and then at the ceiling, rubbing his forehead and groaning, controlling the breathing. He started coughing, choking almost, but slowly crept into reality and the fact that Toulouse was next to sitting beside him/ He was sleeping for 6 hours or so, maybe falling asleep in the sun, which was slowly setting its oranges. "I had a dream... but it turned into a bloody nightmare."

"What happened?"

He sat up on his knees, "Satine... she came to see me. She was warning me about the person sending the letters is going to hurt me."

Toulouse began to think, "It pwobabwy is just a dweam. I hea'd if you think abou' something too much you sta't having nightma'es about them."

"But what if something DOES happen? I... I don't know if I want to go now. But..." He sighed. "I think I should... but that's just my mind. My physicality is telling me like-wise... oh I don't know!” he buried his face in his hands, trying to think... think think think.
"I should go... can... can you get out for a minute so I can change, ‘louse?"

He nodded, and walked out, closing the door behind him and waited. Didn't really take long, just a bit of rummaging here and there and he heard Christian tapping to let him back in. "What do you think?", Christian looked over his shoulders a few times, dressed up once again, just in a new pair of pants and a shirt, he only had one tail coat anyway. "You think its okay?"

"It's fine, twust me!" Toulouse twirled the chain of the pocket watch and clicked it open: "7:45, better get going, you have a busy night t'night!" He grinned and placed the watch in Christian's pant pocket. Christian tried to relax, hell, he had a blind date ahead of him. ‘Hope it was just a nightmare' he prayed, and headed out the door of his garret, down the stairs, and out the Chambre's doors, into the Montemartre street.

~
       
        The stairs to the tower spiraled; its eerie stone walls got Christian even more nervous. Why the gothic tower? Couldn't it just be the elephant?
He sighed, reaching the doors. He tapped gently with the knuckle of his finger, making the only noise through out the whole stairwell. He pushed the doors slowly, peeking inside. Someone was there. "He... Hello?"

The someone didn't move, just nodding to allow him in. Christian swallowed his nervousness and walked in without a sound. "A-are you...the person who in-invited me?"

The someone nodded again, "Sit down.” said in a low, very faint whisper.

Christian looked around, looking curiously at this person in the sun set light of the balcony, and around again. He sat on the edge of the bed, closer to the balcony walls than the chairs. "Sorry if you want it to be more o-of a secret... but who are you?"

"Someone you know," again, a whisper. Suspicious... so monotonic you couldn't tell if he was a she or like-wise.

"Well, ah, that doesn't help." He chuckled, very low. "Y-you said in the letter that w-we had conflicts... I-I don't know that many people I conflicted with."

"Believe me, boy, you know me... very well, I'm sure.” the whisper was louder, but no change in tone.

Boy...? "Just p-please," he was getting very, very nervous, his heart feeling heavy, "who are you? I'm curious!"

"Curiosity killed the cat."

Christian snorted. "Please! I'm here, i-it isn't a secret-well, it i-i-is kind of, but WHO are you?!” he was getting pretty anxious.

The someone turned their head just a wee bit. "You sure, boy?"

He couldn't even get the word out, "ah-I'm not a boy!" He stood up "WHO ARE YOU!?” shouting.

The someone pulled something from a pocket, pointing it straight at him.
A gun.
Christian froze, mouth open, eyes as small as pebbles. "Wha...wait...I... I-I'm sorry ah-about that."

"You better be.” the someone gave an asserting threat.

"I... I didn't mean t-wait... wai... ah-oh...!!", Christian felt his heart sink like a rock in a frozen pond; stiff, cold, helpless. That voice...




...The voice is at the beginning of its end...




‘D... duke?!'

 

 

 

 

 

 

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