Catacombs
She woke a few minutes after sunrise, though she didn’t know it. With her eyes squeezed shut, as she realized there was a pain in her neck, Lotte wasn’t in a position to guess it. A groan escaped her as she tried to figure out why she was upright. Bits and pieces of memory crossed her mind – the masked man and descent. She reached to rub at the back of her neck, eyes still closed. It almost seemed like a dream, until she continued to press at the memories, clinging to it like one did with all important dreams. She’d been in the dream, she’d been Christine and in Bellum which meant…
“Oh god,” was whispered before her eyes flashed open. She was suddenly upright in her chair, pressed back into it and taking in the room she was in. Her breathing grew heavy as she looked to her clothes – sweat suit again, her bag was miraculously on the ground next to her – and then her right hand. She could barely make it out, but it didn’t matter. The memory of another hand was enough and she almost felt like it had been contaminated.
He was here. The Phantom - Erik - had been there, after all her worrying and fears, he was here and he’d taken her - Christine - down here and Lotte didn’t even know if he’d let her go. The fact that she knew nothing at all was enough to make her breathing hysterical. Any effort to calm herself, think rationally was impossible – she simply looked up, unsure of who it would be there.