{Fourteen ~ Things Go Bump in The Night}
[Running. She should be running, running for her life, but it's as if she's wading through treacle and she can't go faster than a medium walk. Yet he is moving as easily as if he truly was a ghost, and he's catching up to her, white mask gleaming in the half light the corridors of the Opera Populaire are bathed in.
Stop! Please, Erik, stop! I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry!
But it doesn't work that way. No matter how many apologies, no matter how many tears, no matter how much she begs, she will have to be punished for her betrayal. One does not cross the Angel of Music and come away unscathed. Everyone will be hurt, there will be deaths, and it's all her fault, because she's unfaithful, a whore, as easy-going as the rest of the chorus girls. The Angel of Music demands perfection, and she has not been perfect for so long...
Banging into a wall she wasn't aware was there, Christine whimpers and sinks to the floor, curling up into as small a ball as she can manage. Perhaps if she is sorry enough, she might just be forgiven. Eventually.]
[OOC: Christine is sleepwalking around deck 5! Feel free to have your pup's sleep disturbed by screaming.]