A/N: Written for a-partofthenarrative's 13 Nights of POTO Halloween bash for 2021 on Tumblr. I lovingly dedicate this to Anthony Crivello's jawline (because who doesn't love an Erik with a jaw worth biting!). Songs used are "I Put A Spell On You" from Hocus Pocus and "Our Way Out" by Nico Collins.

The heavy weight of dread fell on Meg's face and Christine knew this wasn't good. Meg huffed out an exaggerated sigh. "You are doomed; he's like, the most terrifying voice professor at the university. No one survives his so-called 'lessons' unscathed. I can't count how many times I've seen students run out of his office in tears. And he's only been here for a year." Christine swallowed the knot in her throat which threatened to spill out her own tears before she even had her first voice lesson with the guy. "But I'm sure you'll be fine. You're the best soprano who has passed by these halls in decades. There's no way he can't NOT love your voice. I'm sure you'll be fine. Absolutely fine. I'm sure of it."

"Who are you trying to reassure: you or me?" Christine asked. Meg did a hard eye roll and shrugged. "So what does he look like?"

"Tall. Inhumanly tall. Like the giants from Biblical times, think Goliath. Or sasquatch. Take your pick. From what I've heard, he wears a mask that hides, like, almost his entire face; but a few of the girls who've lasted more than one voice lesson have said the same thing: his chiseled jawline is the sexiest thing they've ever seen. Like, obsessively so much that they just want to bite it!"

"You are NOT helping!"

"What's the matter, Christine - terrified you're not up to snuff?" she heard Raoul blast from behind. God, trumpet players are the absolute worst. I'll take Dr. Destler over this tool any day.

"I gotta run… I'll see you guys later," said Christine as she turned to head to the local bookstore for some much needed quiet and caffeine.

"Eight o'clock tonight… don't forget!" Raoul shouted behind her.

It was halfway through the fall semester of her senior year of college. Christine's voice lessons at the collegiate level had brought a welcomed spotlight. Professors and peers alike lauded the "voice of an angel"; at least that's what they called it. Christine Daae was destined for greatness and everyone knew it. But here she was at the midway point to almost graduating and the panic and self-doubt of all her abilities and capabilities crashed into her midst, leaving her wavering and unsteady. With the new addition to voice lessons from the extremely elusive and terrifying but brilliant Dr. Erik Destler, Christine needed a distraction. And tonight would offer that.

The Phi Mu Alpha men's fraternity ("Hail Sinfonia!" She rolled her eyes at the thought of it) was throwing a huge Halloween bash tonight. A full costume party with lively music, cheap prizes, multitudes of cheap snacks, and an overabundance of even cheaper alcohol. No doubt the brothers would have something else planned. She wasn't even sure if she wanted to go. Partying and fraternities were never her thing. Raoul was the other reason. What IS IT with trumpet players anyway? Overly confident, indignant upon refusals, and inevitably thought he could have anyone he wanted, especially Christine. She was less than obliging to indulge his snobbery and borderline callousness. But tonight, none of that mattered. Tonight, she would lose herself to a good time and to wearing an incredible costume.

As she fit the cogwheel clip comb into her long, curly hair and powdered her nose one last time, she took in her full figure clad in a Victorian-era steampunk costume: a long-sleeved, skin-tight black lace shirt hugged her arms; the black corset accentuating every voluptuous curve of her hips and gloriously pushing up her breasts in such a seductive way. Her black, rose-lace thigh-highs peeked out teasingly from under the blood red Victorian skirt that just barely covered her thighs. To top off the look for this Halloween masquerade was a intricately woven black lace mask which hid most of her face and tied with soft, velvet ribbons behind her head. As she adorned dark red lipstick and smoothed her lips with gloss, Meg rounded the corner and stopped dead. "Holy shit... I didn't know you had it in you to dress like this."

"Ugh, I look so childish, don't I?" Christine chided herself and began removing her mask. "I knew I couldn't pull this off. I'm not going."

"Oh no you don't. Don't you dare bail! You look stunning! Like, not a college student anymore… damn, Christine - you look HOT!." Meg paused. "If you weren't my best friend, I honestly wouldn't recognize you at all."

"Really? How's the hairstyle?"

"In all the years I've known you, I have never ONCE seen your hair down. You always have it pulled back and up. You don't even look like you." Meg was shocked. She had never seen Christine like this. It was… "Oh! I have the most delightfully, fabulously scandalous trick for tonight!"

Christine gave a hard eye roll. " No way, Meg, absolutely not. You're too mischievous. Your ideas have a terrible habit of backfiring… all the time."

"It's Halloween, Christine. All bets are off on this night… let's give it a try!"

"This won't work."

"Shut up, yes it will," Meg interrupted. "We just can't walk in together. I'll go first and then you follow a few minutes later."

"I can't believe you're talking me into this. Remind me to kick your ass tomorrow," Christine said as Meg pushed her out the apartment door.

"You'll thank me later. I have a feeling about tonight."

As they approached the rundown townhouse, music filled the air as the late October wind chilled the air. Christine immediately doubted her attendance and said to Meg, who was a few paces ahead of her, "No, I'm going home. I have my first voice lesson tomorrow with Dr. Destler. I shouldn't be here. I don't want to go."

Meg whirled and pulled hard on her arm. "No way! You're coming to this party. Have a few sips of this," she said as she whipped out a metal flask from her purse.

Christine took a large sip and immediately coughed from the potent drink. "Holy crap that's awful. What the hell is this, poison?"

"It's really strong liquid courage… pure Russian vodka. Shut up and drink."

The party was loud. The party was crowded. The party smelled of strong liquor and cheap beer. Someone had the bright idea of blasting "Zoot Suit Riot" on full volume as the voices of Cherry Poppin' Daddies blasted through the party. Christine had to admit that the atmosphere was electrifying. Costumed friends and acquaintances whirled around her in colorful blurs with laughter infiltrating her senses. What was even more peculiar was that indeed no one paid her much attention. They didn't recognize her. Meg's plot worked, and for the first time in a long time, Christine felt a thrill at being an unknown, that she could fade into the background: unnoticed, unacknowledged. And it felt amazing.

That's when she saw… something. Saw… who was that? He had been lurking in darkened corners all night. He caught Christine's vision only in her periphery and she could never quite pinpoint if it was her alcohol-induced haze tricking her or if someone was indeed hiding in the shadows. It felt as if this set of yellow diamond eyes followed her everywhere, watched her, eyeing her carefully.

One thirty in the morning and the party was finally quieting down. Random hook-ups littered the couches and chairs as Christine navigated the now semi-quiet halls of the house. Her buzz was warming her from head to toe, and now seeing the vacant karaoke machine, she jumped at the chance to sing how she really wanted to sing. The opening notes started and she sang, "I put a spell on you, And now you're mine. You can't stop the things I do. I ain't lying." Again the mysterious figure who followed her in the shadows all night had emerged from a darkened corner. His costume sent thrills through her. Dressed in a black tail coat with a high collar shrouded his shoulders and neck in complete darkness, a tophat adorned with the same mechanical pieces as Christine's steampunk-theme accessories, a black leather mash hiding his face, but oh, his pronounced and protruding strong jaw jutted out from underneath in such a way that screamed to be kissed and bitten. He wore the darkness so well and he watched with his yellow diamond eyes, luring her deep into the darkness he carried.

"I put a spell on you, and now you're mine," she sang at him, drawing him further from the shadows and into the iridescent purple darklight of the main room. She felt him towering over her from a distance, and again then thrill coursed through her. "If you don't believe,

You'd better get superstitious," she sang teasingly to him. She watched his body stiffen under her own singing spell, "I put a spell on you, and now you're mine." Her song ended and he beckoned her to follow him. She wasn't sure who had cast this spell on whom, but it didn't matter. As she rounded the corner to the long hallway leading out to the balcony, he had vanished. Her heart throbbing in her throat from either terror or seduction, she hardly knew.

Stepping out onto the balcony, the frigid Halloween evening air bit through the lace sleeves and thin stockings hugging her cold limbs. She shuddered as she felt his presence mysteriously come from behind, feeling him pressed hard against her. "Your voice," he whispered in her ear, his hot breath making him so very real instead of the mysterious figure living in the shadows.

"Yes?" she huffed out, her body leaning against this strong frame.

"If only everybody could see you, through my eyes," he continued to whisper in her ear, his massive hands upon her waist, pressure building to turn her to him, face to face. "Take my hand and don't you let it go now…" She turned in his arms and gazed into his yellow eyes. His rigid, strong jawline seductively close to her lips. Something about him, something about this very moment pushed her to the edge and she jumped at this feeling overtaking her senses and body. Her lips clasped onto his jaw. The subtle scent of his cologne and her perfume mingling filled her senses and she leaned in harder, her lips parted and gently bit down nibbling at his jaw.

He shuddered beneath her lips, his body shaking in anticipation and lust. He clasped his hands upon her face and gently pulled her away, his lips hovering hot upon her neck. "We need to find our way out," she whispered, and suddenly gasped loudly as his lips latched onto the pulsing vein of her exposed neck, and he sucked so hard. "Vampire," she choked out breathlessly. She felt his mouth unlatch from her neck and suddenly felt his teeth nip at her exposed jawline.

"It's only fair…" he panted as he pushed away from her and disappeared into the shadows once again.

Christine, disheveled, tired and still piecing together the night before, heaved herself out of bed at 7:30AM. Only 30 minutes for a quick shower and a cup of green tea before her 8:00AM voice lesson with the dreaded Dr. Destler. Meg's voice from the day before echoing noisily in her mind, "You're doomed. He's terrifying. He makes his students cry." Great, she thought. I'm hungover and have this God awful bruise on my neck and jaw. Shit. Her mind spun wildly trying to figure out who that guy was from last night. Wondering if it was a prank or if indeed something more exhilarating. But it didn't matter… she now had only a few minutes to push the events from Halloween out of her mind. Applying as much makeup as she could to cover up the bruises on her neck and jaw, she shuffled through campus to the music building.

Walking through the fairly empty halls, Christine felt that familiar presence following her again as she approached Dr. Destler's office. Entering the room, the tall man from last night turned to face her, glasses adorning his gorgeously half-masked face with… "Oh shit," she heard Dr. Destler groan.

Christine stood frozen and wide-eyed. "Dr. Destler?" she whispered, her eyes immediately catching the large bruise on his jawline.

It was only fair...