My Blood Red Roses (with C. Olivia)

[Erik Lenoir]

Erik had never taken much interest in gardening, or flowers, but lately the garden pulled him into it many times. The women had been tending to the garden so well that it was turning from a weed-covered mess to a cultured and lovely place.

The spring flowers had come and gone, to make way for the summer's lovely blooms.

Walking among the roses was Erik's favourite place. As he strode among them, they reminded him of his love for Christine. Both of them, it would appear. Emilie, the older of the Christines, knew him from before and even though she was married, they had spent some stolen time together. Her husband, R. Edouard de Chagny, was not happy with the situation. They had come to blows on one occasion, Erik almost killing the Vicomte. In retrospect he was happy he had not, not only for Christine's sake, for she did love the Vicomte, but also for another reason. After the murders at the opera house, Erik had been discovered as the murderer and he had been on his way out of Paris when he had arrived at the mansion, through no consideration of his own. If he killed anyone here, he would be marked and the other residents would surely call for his head. And there was no escape from here. So Erik tried to keep his temper down, which was one reason he killed, the other was careful planning for some specific reason. In any case, that was behind him, and he was not about to kill anyone here, even the enemies he had made, Edouard, Christophe, Érik and some others.

As for C. Svenna Daaé, the Christine he had remembered from the Opéra Populaire, he had discovered that she had bee brought here just after the chandelier had fallen. He had tried to make her understand that he had not tried to kill her, but she seemed very afraid of him. He wished she had come here earlier, before she had even seen his face. He had even forgiven her for that. And so he would have to start over with her. He hoped she was not too frightened. He didn't care to mesmerize her again or kidnap her for that would probably put a complete end to any chance he had with her.

There were many colours of roses that the women had planted, white, yellow, orange, tea roses, pink, coral and of course his favourites, the blood red roses. A deep red that spoke of love. He plucked one and held it to his nose. Behind the large nose of his mask, Erik wore a false nose because a bit of it could be seen at the side...and he had no nose of his own. Just an empty, ugly hole where it should have been. Because of this, although Erik had a good sense of smell, the appliance and the mask muted much of it. Except for the red roses. Their scent was so sweet and lingering that Erik had no trouble smelling them. He plucked a red rose and put it in his buttonhole.

Erik heard footfalls behind him, on the white gravel of the path. He turned but could see no one approaching him.

[christineowivia]

Olivia had found the gardens about a week after she got out of her room. And she fell in love with them. Walking around the roses was wonderful and it had become one of her favorite activities. She was actually rather fond of roses since she was very little. She had learnt to dance with Madame Giry and she had the most wonderful roses she had ever seen. Since that moment, she fell in love with them...

And when she saw that the Manor had roses, she fell in love with them all over again. White and red roses were her favorite and she had found herself walking outside just to stare at them quite often...

And that day wasn't going to be the exception.

Leaving her room and moving directly through the walls to the garden. Olivia was glad that the sun reflected in her figure, making her almost invisible, which came in really handy for curious eyes that could get scared.

But, of course, her movements could still be heard... maybe not her footsteps, which could be mistaken with other sounds outside... There was no way of making her presence completely unknown.... Olivia didn't know that.

When she heard herself and realized that she wasn't that quiet, she froze. There was someone there, by the roses... A man... She stayed still, internally hoping that he hadn't heard her.

[Erik Lenoir]

When Erik turned, there was no one to be seen really, but he thought he could see something transparent, although it disappeared quickly. He thought perhaps his eyes had deceived him. His right eye, on the deformed side, did not have good vision, but his left eye more than made up for it. He turned a bit to get a better view. Nothing now. He tought he still heard the footsteps, but that was stopped too.

He turned back to the roses, but felt uneasy as if someone were watching him. He frowned and started walking up the path sl0wly. He could hear his own footfalls, but it seemed there were footfalls again, behind him. He turned again and still saw no one.

"Is there someone there?" he asked in a slightly sharp voice..."If there is someone, please show yourself. I do not care to be observed if I cannot see who is observing me..." Probably another ghost. He had begun to be used to this, since he had become convinced of their existence upon quite a proliferation of evidence.

Then Erik realized that some of the ghosts were frightened of the live humans, for what reason he couldn't fathom. They could certainly not do the ghosts any harm. There were a few ghosts that could harm humans though. Erik had met one... He said in a softer voice., "Is someone there? I don't mean to frighten you..."

[christineowivia]

The man she had seen seemed to suspect she was there. Maybe he could see her, no matter the sun. ...Was he another ghost? She had seen a few wandering around the manor, but she couldn't be sure if this man was. It was a possibility, though.
But he seemed to be somehow uneasy with her. Maybe he /had/ seen her and she had scared him. That wasn't her intention at all... she didn't want to scare him...

Olivia was startled when he spoke. He sounded kind of mad, or so she thought. But when he repeated the same again, she sighed, somehow relieved and moved behind a tree, where shadows made her figure a little bit more visible.

"I didn't mean to scare you, either," she replied softly. Meet, greet, exchange names... that was what she remembered of her conversation with Charles. "Hello, sir..." she greeted, nodding her head a little bit. "My name is Christine Olivia, but you can call me either 'Stine, or Olivia, I don't mind," she said, trying to sound as nice as she could.

[Erik Lenoir]

Erik was quite aware of the presence of someone and he was sure now that it was a ghost. This one must be shy, perhaps afraid. When he spoke the second time, the presence became a bit more visible. He looked carefully and he could see the outline of a woman, but he could really see no details, other than that.

Then the spectre herself verbalized, saying her name was Christine Olivia and invitted him to call her either Stine or Olivia. "Olivia is a lovely name....I am called Erik Lenoir, late of Paris. I have been her since early this year. " Erik removed his hat and bowed dramatically as he usually did when meeting a woman and even though this one was dead, he made no exception.

"Please show yourself a bit; do not be shy...who are you and why are you here?" Erik turned and looked at the beautiful roses again. He said, "Dark beautiful red. My favourite rose. A rich and exquisite scent, do you not think so? Are you still able to smell, my dear? I hope so...this is not something to pass by."

[christineowivia]

"It's nice to meet you, mister Lenoir," she greeted. "I have been here for about three years, maybe a little more, but I never showed myself until recently, when more people started to wander around and the manor was a little bit more alive," Olivia explained, floating over to Lenoir's side, looking down at the roses he was talking about.

"Well, let me explain..." she started. "I got here immediately after my death and I've been here ever since. That's all I really know," she said, sighing silently.

With a forced, yet sweet smile, she nodded when he asked her about the roses and her ability to smell. "I can, indeed, smell. And I must say that red roses are, by far, my favorite. And this roses, in particular, are breathtakingly beautiful. I like to come out here and just look at them."

[Erik Lenoir]

Erik smiled as Olivia spoke. She seemed to glide over the ground, never touching it. "It's my understanding that one or more of the women have been tending the garden, taking it from the tangle of weeds it was when we came to what it is now. And I am sure it will be more and more improved as time goes on. She, or they perhaps, have done an excellent job."

Erik started slowly walking along the path among the flowers. He glanced at the spectre and motioned with an extravagant motion of his hand in the direction he was going. "I would not mind your company this lovely day, if you would not disparage mine," he said graciously.

He paused for a moment and continued on. "This interests me. Why would you come here after your death? Does not one usually go to his or her heavenly reward or eternal punishment after death?" He paused again. "And I certainly don't mean to upset you in any way; I am merely curious. Is there some force that keeps you here, as surely as it brought the rest of us here and keeps us here?"

"Mademoiselle Olivia, I have not yet been able to get a decent, straight answer from any of the spectres who are here. I hope you might be different."

Erik was hoping to make friends with one or more of the ghosts, now that he knew they were real. If they were comfortable with him, they might tell him the whole truth. It seemed that some information was spilling out, from the time he had met King William Leverich, and on through some of the others, that the ghosts were keepiing the residents prisoner here for some undoubtedly ridiculous reason. And Erik wanted to get at the bottom of it.

Erik ran through the roster of ghosts he had met. There was the King, a genial fellow, speaking in strange epithets and hinting at the truth, but not saying much really. Then there was Josephine, a frightening spectre, whom he suspected of wanting to do bodily harm to him. He had thought her an evil magician at first, evil but skilled. When h e discovered her to be a ghost, it had made more sense. Then there was Jack Darker, a mischievous fellow, but not a bad sort. He had a sense of humour and liked to play harmless pranks. Then he had met Emma Ravenhearst. She seemed sad and afraid. Erik could do nothing to hurt her, yet she seemed fearful of him. And now this lady. She seemed shy of him too, but not as fearful as Emma. Erik hoped they could get along.

Erik plucked a rose and broke the thorns off. He handed it to the spectre. "I don't know if you can hold this, but I'd like to give it to you...It suits you well."

[christineowivia]

With a soft smile, Olivia looked around the garden. "I didn't have the chance to see how it looked before these ladies started to take care of it, but considering how beautiful it looks now, I can tell they have done great," she nodded and floated over the roses, following him when he motioned for her to.

"I wouldn't mind your company, either and I have to admit that I've been so alone since I died that I think a friend here wouldn't be that bad," she stated, once again forcing a nice smile.
Olivia never really smiled. When she did, it was because she was trying to be nice; but something really important had to happen for her to smile, meaning it.

But when he asked her about why were they there, the fake smile faded away and turned into a soft frown. "In all honesty, I also liked to think that there was either Heaven or Hell, after death. But I've been proved wrong... Maybe not all of us become ghosts... Maybe those we did become ghosts need to do something else before we can 'rest in peace', that's what I like to think. Like, we left something, anything, unfinished."
When she said that, her mind started to wander and think about what could she possibly have left unfinished... Maybe the possibility to enjoy a life where she would be loved. She didn't know...
"And as for why we are here, I really don't know... maybe there /is/ something or someone that has brought us all, dead and living, and is keeping us here. But we should find out, don't you think?" she asked, looking up at him again.

When he handed her the rose, she smiled politely once again and held out her hand to reach it. The first time she tried, her hand went right through the rose, causing her to be a little disappointed and upset of her ghostly form. "T-thank you, but I can't..." she started to mutter, before focusing in the rose and trying to hold it again. To her surprise, she was actually able to take the rose in her hand this time, making her smile a little wider and take in its scent. "It's very beautiful, thank you very much, monsieur," she said, trying to pronounce that French word right.

[Erik Lenoir]

Erik said, "Perhaps you did leave something unfinished. That would explain you still being here, I would think. So it appears that you do not know any more about this situation thatn I do." He paused in his speaking, but continued to walk slowly and thoughtfully. "Perhaps we could help each other. I have only found out bits and pieces. Tell me, have you spoken to anyone else? Live people or ghosts about this? Has anyone been able to give you an inkling of what is happening here?"

"I suppose it is natural to be curious about ghosts, Mademoiselle Olivia." I am curious to find out the truth about a good many things. This of course being the main thing I am concerned with at the present moment."

Erik walked past the roses then on his trek down the path and saw a patch of some plants with wicked looking spikes growing on flat pads. Erik looked at it with interest. There were a tangle of spiked plants growing at various angles. It looked as if no one had pruned these fellows which could stab you quite painfully if you approached them too closely. They were plantted in an area of the garden with bright unobstructed sun. Erik pulled his hat further over his eyes. "A specias of opuntia, a type of cacti from the American southwest. They flourish in many places all over the world, far away from their original source." He touched the ground and saw that it had been mixed with sand so the rain could fall and penetrate to the roots without pooling, as in the dryness that the plant thrived on.

"I expect the former owner of this house musta have been a traveller who brought back man things from various parts of the world." He smiled. "You're probably not interested in that. But I would like to hear about you...what was your life like? And if you grace me with your story, I shall respond in kind." Erik wasn't planning to tell her everything about himnself, that would be foolish. But he intended to tell her a few things, so she would be forthcoming with him also.

Erik noticed that she had a hard time grasping the rose. Finally she was able to take it. "There must be a bit of practice involved with picking up objects," said Erik with a smile playing about the visible end of his mouth.

[christineowivia]

Nodding softly, "Even though I'm not sure what's my unfinished thing, I'd love to find out," she said, shrugging. "That can be something to keep me entertained."

"I've seen a few people around... most of them, dead. Expect for you, of course, and a little girl. Her name is Meg... I met this ghost that claimed to be the "Master" of the Manor, and then this young man, Victor... he reminded me of my lov-- friend, Raoul," she explained. "And then, you," she smiled nicely again. "But, tell me, have you seen anyone else around? So I don't freak out when I eventually find them..."

As for her History... what could she tell him? Of course, she wasn't going to tell him everything about her; maybe she should focus on how she died... or a few years earlier.
Floating besides him, she stayed silent for a moment, giving her mind time to elaborate the story she wanted to tell.

"Well, I was born in Stockholm, Sweden... to a very rich family. I had a younger brother, René and he was all I cared for. My relationship with my parents was never easy... I used to be more like a servant than a daughter, mostly to my father. My mother -poor thing- was in the same place. Her husband used to think that he could treat his family as he pleased, so he liked to beat us when things didn't go the way he wanted them to..." she started to tell him, pausing for a few seconds after saying this. She remembered everything too vividly and it was starting to hurt again. If ghosts could cry, she was sure she would be bawling her eyes out by that time.

"That's how he killed my mother... for a few years, we went through a hard time, financially. My father liked to gamble a lot and he lost everything we had in just one night... But, of course, he wasn't going to blame himself for it. He blamed us. We, slowly, started to get though that, when he snapped. My brother and I left the house to go buy fruit, I believe, and when we came back, we saw our mother on the floor and my dad beating her... until she stopped moving. That was one of the most horrible memories I have and it still hurts, sometimes... I thought that the pain would completely go away in time, but it didn't.
Years passed and one day, I met a young boy. Raoul. We fell in love immediately and when I came back home to tell my brother, my father heard everything and lost it. She started to yell at me, calling me unrepeatable names and killed me... shot a gun straight to my heart. That's how I died... And here I am," she nodded, looking towards him. "Oh! I forgot a part... I didn't get here immediately after my death, I'm afraid I forgot the two years I spent in Paris, as a lonely singing spirit. After that, I got here... I guess I died around five years ago, if I spent around two years in Paris and three here..." Olivia finished her story with a sigh. It was a hard, depressing story and she was surprised with how much she had told him.

"What about you? I'm sure you have a pretty interesting story as well, mister Lenoir," she asked, looking over at him again.

"Picking up objects only requires a lot of concentration and practice, and that's something really hard to do," she said, smiling at him. "But thank you for the rose, it's beautiful," she repeated.

[Erik Lenoir]

"Perhaps you will find out soon what your unfinished business is, Mademoiselle Olivia. Of course if you go, I should be robbed of your lovely company, so I do wish the best for you. " Erik paused. This was one of the lovely ghosts, not mean or cruel but probably in the dark about the plans of the other ghosts. "I can offer you nothing in the line of entertainment, unless you care for opera. We shall be performing opera some day when we refurbish the opera house here. Since you say you were a singer, you may enjoy that. Please, tell me about your singing career..."

"Earlier I mentioned the ghosts that I've met. I have met two Megs and quite a few Christines, in cluding yourself...there was Christine, Ellen, Emilie, Svenna, Joy, Nicole, and some other Eriks, Lavalais, the one known only as Érik, Carrière and a horrid fellow named Destler. There was also Alexander Arjon, Lydia Constanzi, Maria Gianelli, Teressa Lavalais, and of course the de Chagnys, Raoul, Edouard and Jacques. Then there is a nosy detective Emma Brook. She asks too many questions. And a lovely little girl from the village Roselin Soulle, who has some very strange futuristic items with her. And some odd things that she said to me. There is a strange mermaid in the bathhouse pool who almost killed me."

Erik paused. "I do find it odd, thought, that there are so many of us with the same name...strange."

Then Olivia told her story about how her father beat and killed her mother and after having met a young man, her father had killed her also." It's a very sad story my dear. Perhaps your unfinished business has to do with finding your young man again. Is he still alive?

"s for me, my dear, there isn't much to say really. I have always been deformed; it's congenital. My home life was not good, to say the least. I left home at an early age and ...fell in with a travelling show where...I made my living for a few years. Later I travelled abroad for some years learning my profession, architecture. I built many fine edifices. When I returned home, I decidced that music, myu lifelong passion, would be my life. I obtained a job managing the Opéra Populaire in Paris. It was from there that I was taken here...." Erik neglected on purpose to say that the travelling show was really a freak show and that he was one of the star attractions. He also didn't mention that he ran the opera house by fear, deeming himself the frightening Opera Ghost or O.G. and blackmailing the managers into giving him 20.000 francs a month, free use of box 5 and demands the managers found outrageous, like choosing who would sing the lead in certain operas and demanding his own opera be put on. He admitted only to himself, that may have gone too far. For it caused him to kill another person and flee for his life. In fact, the Manor became somwhat of a shelter for him because he knew he could not go back to Paris, at least not soon.

"It is not a bad thing to be here, Mademoiselle, I just do not like being held against my will, I am certain you can understand. Mostly we have been treated well, except for one of the ghosts in particular. and then some of the residents are quite ...shall we say, bizarre and dangerous..." Of course Erik knew there were some who would say that he was dangerous...and Erik admitted he was, but he would not kill here at the mansion unless his life or someone else's was in danger. He did not want to go through that again...

[christineowivia]

"I do enjoy Opera, very much so," she nodded. "But I'm afraid I don't have a complete singing career... When I was little, back in Sweden, I met a young girl named Meg. Her mother taught me ballet and Meg and I started to learn how to sing. She was better than I was, but she said I learnt fast. We liked to sing for the old people at the town's market, who probably thought we were just adorable, not good singers. However, we kept singing until we were older; until I... died," Olivia explained. "Then, like I mentioned, my spirit traveled to the Paris Opera House, and I liked to sing there at midnight, where people called me "The Long Lost Songbird". I thought it was funny, because they never knew where my voice came from."

When he mentioned everyone he had met, Olivia looked at him in shock. "Wow... there are a lot in here, it seems. And I've only met three of them," she said, giggling softly, a sound that wasn't normal of her. "And yes, it is odd that many have the same name, yes."

"I would love to know if he's still alive. I believe he is, he was young and I didn't know of any health problems, so my unfinished business could be related to finding him again," she nodded, sighing silently.

Olivia listened intently to what he was telling her about his life and nodded her head when he finished. "You have an interesting story, Mister Lenoir. Really interesting. But... how did you get here, if you don't mind me asking? You were /taken/ here?"

"It's not a completely awful place to live and I like it, so far. I still have a lot to explore but everything seems nice enough. But I do understand the not wanting to be held against your will part. Have you tried to find a way to leave, though? Is there any possible escape?" she asked him, looking up from the grass, curiosity glowing in her almost grey eyes.

[Erik Lenoir]

"So you too know a girl named Meg whose mother taught you ballet. Another strange coincidence. " He listened a bit more and when she said she had been called the Long Lost Songbird, he smiled. "You must have a lovely voice to be called a songbird." He mused for a moment. "So you never really were able to use your musical talents professionally. Of course I am sure no one would be upset if you sang at midnight at our Opera house, in fact I may come to hear you myself sometime." Erik smiled. "I would certainly love to hear the singing of a spectre who was called a Songbird."

"Yes, the fact that so many residents here have the same name is quite strange. And even odder, the fact of similarities anomg those with similar names. All of the men named Erik wear masks. What is under those masks is unknown to me though. All the men named Raoul are Vicomtes or Comtes, of French nobility. And most of the Christines are of Swedish ancestry and are sopranos and ingenues, working at an opera house, most of the time in Paris. The Megs are generally ballet dancers."

"As to your young man, I know of no way to discover where he may be, unless some of the other ghosts or residents here know of him. Perhaps he will appear at some time in the future which will be fortuitous for you."

"As for myself, I came here in a strange way. I was underneath the Opéra Populaire in a dark passageway. I was planning to take it as an easier way to reach the Seine. Somehow I fell asleep there and when I awakened in complete darkness, I assumed I was in the same place. But I discovered that it led, not to the Seine, but to a door into this mansion. It was in the Library where I entered. On later visits to the library, I discovered that the door, strangely, had completely disappeared. Otherwise, I would have tried to follow it backwards to see if I would end up again under the opera house. But I could not do that."

"As for finding a way to leave, I have been searching for that since the day I arrived. I feel comfortable at least in my home, but still, I feel I am being held against my will. I have been questioning everyone I know about the situation. No one seems to know any more than I do. And I have only had inklings of it from some hints that the ghosts have mentioned."

He looked then at her eyes and noticed their colour. "You have lovely eyes, my dear. "

[christineowivia]

"At least, no one threw things at me when I sang in the middle of the night," Olivia joked, something that was really rare of her. "Not that they would /really/ know where I was, but at least, no one tried to shut me up." For a moment, Christine stayed silent, thinking about her singing career. "I would have loved to sing professionally, though."

"Maybe the fact that we're all basically the same has to do with the fact that we're held here. Maybe they want us for some kind of... investigation?" she asked. It wasn't a really good theory, but it could cause a good laugh. "As for Raoul, I don't know... he could appear here, too."

Then, Olivia listened to the story about how Erik had appeared there. "If only that door had not disappeared, huh?" she muttered, smiling gently. "If you don't mind... we could look for a way to leave, if there's one. I could use some sort of company in this place. That is... if you'd like."

Her smile grew a little bit more real with his compliment about her eyes. "You think so, sir?" Olivia wasn't really used to people complimenting her, but it felt nice. "Thank you," she added, looking up at him.

[Erik Lenoir]

"Do not disparage yourself, my dear. I am sure no one would have laughed at your voice. Perhaps you would do me the great favour of singing for me on the stage sometime. And it does not have to be at midnight, unless you prefer it that way."

"As for why we are being held here, I have only picked up a few hints from the ghosts I have met. I at first felt there was some sort of time anomaly that brought us here. For time seems to move so differently, rooms changing from new and beautiful to old and decripit, as if they had aged 100 years in an instant. However, on speaking to some of the other ghosts, I have come to the conclusion that some of them are responsible for this. I am of course not including you in this, for you are as much in the dark as I am. They could well be responsible for the time anomalies as well."

"I would be delighted to walk with you, for your company is extremely pleasant. I don't know that we shall find a way to leave, but certainly we can try. Do you have much contact with the other spectres? If so, perhaps you could ask them yourself why we are being held here, a strange conglomeration of people who are connected with the opera and music."

"I have met some ghosts other than yourself. One is very evil and she was quite cruel to me. Others seem to be frightened. One likes to play pranks, but otherwise seems harmless. An then there's the King. A genial fellow, but he did hint that he and some others brought us here, for what purpose I don't know."

"And I do think you are quite an interesting person, Olivia. It is a joy talking with you. And you are very lovely too. I do hope that your young man appears here in the future. It is not unlikely, as several people I knew from the past have appeared her after I did. Don't give up hope." Erik looked at the spectre with a bit of fondness.