A/N: The author (that's me!) is strictly an EC supporter. Therefore this will not be EM. Anyhoo! PLEASE read and PLEASE respond. You must understand how nice it is to check your mail and realize that people have read your work! (Thank you to TheIncredibleOne for reading EVERY SINGLE STORY I have written. Even when they suck.
Disclaimer: I got nothing.
Water squished inside young Meg Giry's boots as she waded through the lagoon of the Phantom's lair. Stepping out onto the candlelit oasis that had been his home she sighed. Her stomach felt as though it would sink into her soggy boots as she realized its vacancy.
Where were they?
Christine, Raoul, the mysterious phantom? Everything was silent except for the squelches and furious yells of oncoming searchers.
Meg wandered the shrine-like dwelling of the phantom, tearing off curtains wherever they hung, thinking that behind them could be…what? Meg didn't want to think ofthat. She knocked over candles and artifacts most certainly stolen from the Opera house in her searching frenzy. Recognizable vases, statues and books were scattered everywhere, and Meg now knew how they had disappeared.
The other searchers were nearly here now. They held fiery torches in front of them, creating a smoky mist that mingled with the claustrophobia of the desolate place.
"Found anything?" A man yelled from across the lagoon at Meg.
"No, there's no one here. Nothing" She replied, noting the worry in her tone.
Ascending a set of pallid stair, she found herself atop an altar it seemed that was devoted to…music? Yes, for an aged organ sat ready to be played and sheet music was heaped everywhere, some pages half finished, some scribbled out. Meg could have sworn that she saw the keys moves for a moment, and a mournful melody invaded her mind.
The angel of music sings songs in my head.
Meg stepped down the stairs to the right and looked around, desperate for any sign of her dear friend or the villain who had kidnapped her right in front of all the Parisian Opera patrons.
And there it was. Glinting at her from a table, not three feet away was a mask. The mask of the opera ghost. It sat, estranged and lonely, like the man who once wore it.
Picking it up, Meg felt something strange. Like someone was watching her. Was it the presence of the Phantom? Was he close by? He must be.
Meg looked around to see if anyone was watching her, they weren't. The dozen of people were searching rooms and underwater for clues and no one noticed Meg slip behind the remains of a large smashed mirror. She was careful not to step on glass that lay in puddles everywhere.
Once out of sight, the young ballerina looked down at the forsaken mask.
He must have fled this place. And with Christine too! That's what had happened! Meg thought nodding her head, her eyebrows knitted in frustration and worry. The phantom had heard the rowdy mob of people pursuing him and had dragged his hostage into hiding.
Meg decided then that she would find them. And she would do it alone, her mother would be so terribly angry with her, but she had to save poor Christine! The girl who had been like a sister to her was now in the clutches of a murderous wretch who probably intended to do all sorts of horrible things to her. And what of Raoul? Meg could only imagine what torments the Phantom had in store for him. Oh God I must go! Meg thought and quickly darted her eyes around for a means to leave. Peeking out from her hideout, Meg caught a glimpse of a dark violet curtain hanging limply a few yards away. It was the only one she hadn't torn down. I can hide over there until I figure out where to search. Meg reasoned. She counted to three and ran behind the curtain. Someone was coming this way…she had to leave. Backing up behind the curtain, Meg hit a wall.
Turning around, Meg saw a figure facing her and it was all she could do not to let out a shriek. But in the dim light emanating from beyond the curtain she could see thatit was not a wall at all but a rather large mirror. And the figure was only herself.
Someone was right outside the curtain now. If they were to pull back it back, hope of finding Christine may be gone. For they would follow her,making noise and alerting the one she hunted of their presence.Backing up against the mirror, Meg couldn't go any further. But suddenly, the glass upon the mirror shifted. Spinning around, Meg slid the glass to the right. A trick mirror! Just like the one in Christine's dressing room. That was how she knew to come here in the first place!
Beyond the frame of the mirror was pitch blackness. And as Meg stepped through the looking glass of doom, she was surrounded by it. Wishing she had brought a torch to guide her, she stuck her hands out it front of her to feel her way around, her left hand still clutched the mask.
"Ick!" She squealed as a hand touched the slimy wall of the hallway she appeared to be in. I must be in a sewer of some sort. She thought noting the smell and chill that seeped through her thin ruffled shirt, causing her to shiver. With a groan of fear Meg realized what else dwelled in sewers, rats. And how she hated rats…and how she knew she would scream if one sidled next to her foot, blowing her cover. Then she knew she would not escape from the Phantom's "magical lasso." That is of course, if he were in here.
With that lovely thought, dread clenched her stomach, now not only for her friend, but for the impending doom that surely awaited her in this cavern.
But she knew she must press on. Christine could be in here somewhere! And Meg took a determined step forward and then another, deeper into the never ending darkness.
After about half and hour, Meg felt as though she had gone three feet. For each step was fearful and diminutive. With her hands still stretched out in front, Meg hit a solid wall of concrete. Turning left, the hall kept going. Three steps more and her hand hit something else, a protrusion in the wall. It felt like a lever. Meg hastily pulled it down, and she felt the floor beneath her moving backwards.
Gasping, Meg didn't know what to do. But as the floor revolved, she found herself inside a room. Looking behind her, she saw the cement wall that had just moments before been outside. She had been transported by means of a revolving door!
But there was a new issue at hand. The room she was now in was large and empty, dimly lit by a few flickering candles. A wooden chair was planted in the corner, and an empty basket was sprawled upon the rough dirtyfloor.
Trembling at the freezing temperature, Meg stepped into the bare room, which hadbeen haphazardlypainted a dark shade of peeling red. Two doors were placed on either end of the room, one without a knob, and the other slightly opened. Meg walked up to it, and inhaled as she opened it sharply.
Nothing...just a completely bare cube, no larger than a bathroom, with pipes lining the ceiling. Meg went back into the main room and circled it.
The silence was stale and tense. Meg was certain no one else was here. She stomped her foot to make sure,
That is when a meek voice called out… "Christine?" And though the voice was no more menacing than her own, Meg froze, her feet riveted to the ground. She heard a door click open, then shut.
A hand came out of nowhere, closing in around Meg's mouth as her eyes widened in horror, choking on her scream, the white mask fell from her hand crashing to the ground.
A/N: Respond please, but no flames. I know it's a little dull…but it shall get better I PROMISE!