Another Angel: Chapter 1
Author Note: Um...I'm not sure exactly where this fanfic will go. Setting wise, this takes place immediately after the Garnier Opera house goes in flames--in fact, the same night as "Past the Point of No Return" and "Down Once More."There is actually another Opera House in Paris besides the Garnier Opera House, but it was built in 1990 or so...So let's just pretend that there are two opera houses in Paris in the late 1800's, shall we? Hope you like it! --AzIce
It was after the night performance of Bizet's Carmen that she first heard it. She had changed out of her costume to a white dress and was down beneath the Bastille Opera House in Paris. It was extremely crowded upstairs, so Reina had taken refuge beneath the stage in the chapel. News of the destruction of the Garnier Opera House across the city had spread like wildfire and many of the singers and dancers from there were taking refuge in the Bastille Opera House.
It was a soft sobbing and it grew louder as she started walking towards the cellars. Strangely, it sounded like a man's voice as well, one that she didn't recognize, perhaps an audience member? Having grown up in the Opera house, she knew it like the back of her hand and it sounded like it was coming from the fifth cellar, where no one went—no one even went into the third cellar. But she had gone down there one more than one occasion. The first time she went down there, it had been a dare from the other girls at the Opera house. But instead of the dust, spiders, and mice she thought she would find, it looked as if someone could live there and she found herself coming back there occasionally because the atmosphere of it would calm her down. Though she was popular with many of the girls, their idle chatter often bored her and spent her time wandering through the gardens, or in the fifth cellar.
The fifth cellar also had a tunnel behind a curtain that led somewhere, but she had never gone the full length of the tunnel. It led too far away from the Opera House. She began walking toward the fifth cellar. As she came into view of the cellar, she saw a faint light coming from it, and sobbing was coming from there as well. Frightened slightly, she slowly walked towards the light and the mysterious sobbing. Surely enough, there was someone there. It was a man, but she could hardly see his face. But seeing the tears glimmer in the faint candlelight, she felt a rush of sympathy for the man, even though she had idea who he was. She walked over to the man, who was surprised to see her. The single candle lit in the room didn't do much to show his features.
"Here, monsieur," she said, offering him her handkerchief, a kind smile on her face. "It looks as if you have more need of this than I do."
Surprised that a total stranger showed such kindness to him, he stared at her, surprised, before he took the handkerchief. "Thank you," he murmured.
"Shall I light some candles?" she asked, rising from the man's side. "There are a lot of candelabras over there."
"No!" the man said in a choked cry.
"As you wish," she said, returning to his side and leaving the candle away from him. There was something that he was hiding, but strangely enough, she trusted this strange man. "If I may ask, monsieur, you came through the tunnel. Where does it lead?"
"The Garnier Opera House," the man responded. He sounded better than before, though he occasionally wiped a tear away. "You must think me foolish," he said. "A grown man, crying like a newborn."
She shook her head. "No. It would be foolish to assume that grown men do not cry. I'm sure you have good reason to cry. Is there anything I can do to help you, monsieur?"
"No," he said. "No…there is no reason for me to live anymore," he muttered, thinking that she would not hear him. But her small hands grasped his wrist immediately—small, slim, pretty hands that reminded him of Christine.
"No!" she cried, looking him in the eye. "Don't kill yourself. Please. Promise me you won't. If you do, I shall be unhappy forever because it will be my negligence that allowed you to kill yourself. And I shall throw myself from the top of the opera house if you kill yourself. So…promise me. Please. I implore you, monsieur."
"I….I promise," the man said, taken back that this girl tried so desperately to save him. "Why?" he suddenly asked quietly. "Why do you try so hard to save me, a complete stranger you met naught but fifteen minutes ago?"
"I don't know," she finally admitted after some thought. "Perhaps it is because life is so precious to me. My family was murdered in front of my own eyes when I was four." A tear fell down her cheek now. It had been a robbery. Her father had shoved her under the table and told her not to move right as the robbers came in. They took everything valuable and mercilessly slaughtered her parents. "And my best friend killed herself a month ago," she said, fighting the tears. She promised herself that she wouldn't cry anymore over her dear friend, who had been driven to hysteria by La Sorelli, who was jealous of her talent, but no one blamed it on La Sorelli. They just called it an unfortunate accident. The managers pampered and spoiled La Sorelli, the lead soprano and dancer who threatened to quit whenever she was unsatisfied. "Oh dear," she said, wiping the tear from her cheek and looked at the watch on her wrist. "It's getting late. Madam Ellisa will be missing me. I'll bring you back something to eat later after everyone has gone to bed."
"Don't get yourself in trouble for my sake, mademoiselle," the man said.
She laughed softly. "My name is Reina, monsieur. And I'm never in trouble. I always steal away after Madam Ellisa puts us in bed." She got up to leave.
"Here," he said, holding out her handkerchief for her. "Thank you."
"Keep it," she said, a smile on her face. "I'll just tell Madam Ellisa that I lost it."
"I shall wait for you to return," the man said. He sounded more collected now. "However, tell no one of my presence here."
"Of course," she said, nodding her head in acknowledgement before she picked up her candle to leave. She found the dormitories crowded with girls, some she knew and some she didn't. Along with Madam Ellisa, there was another woman there presiding over the girls. Reina had thought that she had slipped in unnoticed, until Madam Ellisa called her out.
"Miss Merteuil," came Ellisa's taut voice.
"Yes, Madam Ellisa?" she asked meekly, turning to face the caretaker and instructor of the dancers. As in Reina's case, Ellisa became a second mother to all the dancers because most were sent to the Opera House at such young ages that they still pined for family. Ellisa was a strict, yet loving woman, as with all mothers.
"Where have you been all this time?" Ellisa asked.
"Down in the chapel," she responded. "It was dreadfully crowded and raucous in the lobby after the opera, so I decided to seek somewhere quieter."
There was a slight smile on Ellisa's face. "You did wonderfully tonight, child. There were many people looking to congratulate you. Now, onto bed. We are sharing our dormitory with the Opera Populaire tonight, and for many nights to come—I'm sure you've heard of the tragedy that they suffered. So be sure that you make them feel welcome, Reina."
"Of course, madam Ellisa," she said, dropping in a slight curtsy in respect to the two women before going to the dormitories. She changed into a nightgown and prepared for bed, taking out the pin that held her hair back to let it fall loosely behind her. The lights soon went out and Reina heard the girls' breathing patterns lapse into the steady breathing characterized by sleep.
She silently slipped out of bed and to the shadows, where she made her way to the kitchens. She grabbed a basket and put a loaf of bread in there along with some meats and cheeses. It wasn't much, but it would have to do.
She began her way to the stairs that led to the cellars. At night, she normally slipped out to the gardens to enjoy the fresh air. Often, she found that she couldn't sleep, so she enjoyed watching the stars at night. But going to the cellar at night was something that she didn't do very often. It was completely dark as she looked down into the cellars beneath her. She didn't want to risk a candle—it would be easily seen. But she was fairly certain that she could find her way. So, throwing away her fear, she started walking down the stairs.
At the bottom of the stairs, she paused again. It was completely dark. Coming down the stairs, she had meager moonlight to guide her, but it was so dark in the cellars that she couldn't see her own hand in front of her face. She would have to rely solely on memory to find her way to the fifth cellar. She hoped there were no rats or spiders scurrying around. She absolutely hated them.
But a gloved hand extended to her from the dark. "Come to me," came the man's voice. "Let me lead you through the darkness." She was taken aback by the voice at first. He sounded completely different from the suffering, pitiful creature from before and it took her a moment to realize that he was the same person.
A/N: The End...for part 1. Please review...I just want to know that there are actually people reading this...and maybe a couple thoughts or pointers. Or...you can give me plot ideas...or a better title! Sorry...it's the middle of the night...and I am delirious. :D Until the next chapter (maybe), AzIce.