Here is another phantom of the opera. I hope youenjoy,please review.
Chapter I
It was dark and damp; there was no one else on the streets as she ran quickly down the cobblestone road. She could barely see in front of her, but she knew where she was. She could barely make out the outline of the opera house as it loomed overhead. She stopped and turned down the alleyway. Her hands were outstretched in front of her as she searched for the giant metal gate, which led to the lake. She gripped the bars tightly, when she finally find it. She paused to catch her breath, before sliding through the bars. She slowly made her way down to the water's edge. The boat was gone, so he must have been there.
She waded in the water, carefully. She didn't know how did it was; but she kept walking, until she had to swim. The water was bone chilling and all she wore was a thin, silk nightgown. But she kept going; the water finally started shallow as she made her way into the catacombs of the opera house. She tried to keep quiet, so not to bring attention to herself. It seemed like ages until she could see light ahead of her. It was coming form multiple candles. It was dim and seemed old and lifeless. She searched for any movement, any sign of him. He was sitting at the organ, but not playing, just sitting there. He was hunched over, his head bowed. His hair was long and unkempt; it hung in his face, hiding it. He seemed wiry, tired, and older.
"Erik?" she called, frightened of how he would react to seeing her. He was slow to respond. He lifted his head and very slowly, turned to look at her. He wasn't wearing his mask; but that's not what caused her to gasp. It was his eyes; they were not the eyes of her angel or teacher; but of a man, a beaten, weathered man.
"Why do you torment me?" he whispered. She had feeling that he was not talking to her, but to something unseen.
"Erik, it's me." She muttered, taking another step toward him. He laughed harshly, standing up. He swayed slightly as he was drunk or sick.
"I'm tired of these dreams, these nightmares!" he screamed, shoving all the contents over the organ, onto the floor. Sheets of music fluttered in the air, before landing in the water.
"I'm not a dream, Erik." She cried, running to him and grabbing his upper arms. He wrenched away, pushing her to the ground in the process.
"Leave me be!" he shouted, walking down the stairs to his bed. He collapsed suddenly on top of the blankets. She became frightened when he didn't move. She moved toward him, slowly.
She kneeled down beside him and stroked his hair back out of his face. He was asleep; his breathing was slow and steady. She leaned over and kissed him on the forehead. The bed wasn't made, so she pulled the sheets up around his shoulders and laid his head on the pillows. She would let him sleep; maybe they would be able to talk in the morning