Disclaimer: I don't own any DDR stuff, or Phantom of the Opera (though I sure as hell wish I did, I'd kill Raoul), and all that jazz, but I do own the characters ya don't recognize (except maybe Holly since she's mentioned in the song, and I personified the guy who talks to her, so does that count as owning them?). Yeah, uh, just read please, I don't know what I'm talking about...

The New Dancer

"It's a long way to go, Holly," said the mysterious stranger on the horse as he pulled Holly up onto the horse in front of him.

"I know," replied 14-year-old Holly. "But I'm afraid. Where are we going?"

"Into the Dark Black Forest," said the stranger. As he spoke those words, a portal appeared in the air before them and they went through it. Strange music played, music that Holly recognized from her favourite video game, DDRMax. The song was, ironically, called "Dark Black Forest (Short Trip)". They found themselves in a dark black forest, walking a path of black sand that snaked through the forest.

"Look around you, Holly," the stranger said. "What do you see?" Holly looked. All around her, she saw people. More specifically, dancers. Most specifically, dancers dancing moves from various DDR games. She could only hear "Dark Black Forest" playing, but she recognized moves from "End Of The Century" and "Midnight Blaze". No one looked up as they passed, with the exception of one girl. She was all alone in her dancing area, but she looked up as the horse passed. And she gave the stranger behind Holly the most venomous, murderous look that Holly had ever seen. She was breathing hard from dancing very difficult moves that could only be found under the Maniac setting or the hardest setting of the particular DDR game you were playing. There were flames dancing in the centre of her flashing green- silver eyes. Her thick, dark hair hung in a naturally gold-streaked braid to the small of her back, though a few sweaty strands hung in her face. She never missed a beat of her dance, albeit she didn't seem to be enjoying it. She looked about Holly's age, maybe a year or two older, but in her face, especially her eyes, was a deep pain and a wisdom no teenager had. Holly was very intrigued by her, but they rode on without stopping.

"Why are they all dancing?" she asked the stranger. "Who are they?"

"They are dancing because it pleases me to see them dance," replied the stranger. "They never stop. I do not wish for them to stop. They are the best DDR dancers in the world. And you will join them." The last bit was not a question or a suggestion. It was a statement. Holly was suddenly very frightened, but she could go nowhere while the stranger held her on the horse. Not far from the mysterious girl was a castle, which Holly and her captor now approached. The music ended and the horse stopped in front of the castle doors.

"This is my realm," the stranger said. "I find the best dancers and bring them here to dance for me. Forever. They do not age, they cannot die. They need nothing to keep them going. And now I've a new dancer to add to my collection. You."

"No!" shouted Holly. She jumped off the horse and ran, only to be seized by two strong men and dragged back to the stranger. She screamed and struggled, biting and clawing desperately, trying every trick she knew to get free. It was all to no avail. She was held, breathing hard, in front of the stranger. He just smiled at her.

"Fiery," he commented. "Good. You'll give a most satisfying dance with that kind of energy. I made an excellent choice. As usual."

"Bit of a Narcissist, aren't you?" spat Holly. "And what if I hadn't run, hmm? What if I didn't have that kind of energy?"

"Then you'd dance slower dances," replied the stranger with a careless shrug. To his guards he said, "Put her with Fire Spirit." The men nodded and dragged Holly off. She fought again, not expecting a result, just fighting because she was furious and scared. She was taken to the mysterious girl from before. On the ground beneath and beside the girl were arrows. DDR arrows. They lit up as the girl danced on them, and Holly knew she was to dance on the vacant ones beside her. The men held Holly in the centre of the unfilled arrows and one said something strange in her ear. She gasped as she felt something strange flowing through her. It was not a pleasant feeling, but not painful either. The men backed off. Holly tried to run, but couldn't move as she wished anymore. She began to dance to DDR music she could hear in her head. She hissed curses at the men, but they just nodded and left. Holly couldn't believe this was real. This had to be a bad dream. No, it wasn't. She was dancing for the perverse pleasure of some creature who didn't give a damn about human rights and freedom. He only cared about satisfying his own desires and cared nothing for what it did to others. Frightened and a little nauseas, she began to cry. After a few minutes, she didn't know how long, she stopped.

"Though it was futile, your vicious fight back there was a valiant effort," said a gentle voice next to her. Holly looked over and saw the strange girl looking at her. "I shed tears too when I was brought here. Not to be heartless, but I'm afraid they'll serve no purpose here. He doesn't care if you're happy or sad. I overcame my sorrow by replacing it with passionate hate and fury. But deal with yours how you wish, I'm not one to dictate. If tears ease your pain, shed as many as you will, and I'll stand by you. Not because I've no freedom of movement to go anywhere I please, but because I was once in your position." Holly wiped her face and eyes and the girl smiled. "Feel better?" she asked.

"A-a little," said Holly, wheezing slightly. "Thank you." The mysterious girl nodded.

"What's you name?" she asked.

"Holly. Holly Hemlock. Who are you?" she replied.

The girl looked distantly sad as she replied, "I was once Celaeno Duquesne. But that was a long time ago." She blinked and Holly thought she might cry. 'No, no of course not, she gave up on fruitless tears,' she thought.

"What do you mean you were once Celaeno Duquesne?" asked Holly.

"I was the youngest daughter of Erik and Katrianne Duquesne. They had an elder daughter, but she never married. She certainly didn't die a virgin, though, I'll tell you that!" said Celaeno. "How old do you think I am, Holly?" she asked.

"About my age, fourteen. Maybe a little older. Why?" asked Holly. A mirthless smiled spread slowly over Celaeno's face.

"I was fourteen once. That was when I was brought here. And that was many, many years ago. I can't remember exactly how long it's been, but it was when DDRMax was one of the latest DDR games you could buy. They had newer ones in arcades, but not on the market. I loved to play DDR. I had two, DDRMax and a PS1 game, DDR Konamix. I danced to them both all the time, and soon I was rather good. I got all the top scores and beat my sister so many times she gave up in annoyance. I progressed to standard and difficult modes, dancing Trick and Maniac. I got better and better with practice. I had so much fun dancing. I never in my wildest dreams, and my dreams were unbelievably wild, that this would happen. That I would be taken from my home and family to this place and forced to dance for a creature who calls himself a man and a lord. Hah!" she snorted.

"Yes, that man on the horse. Who is he?" asked Holly.

"He appears to prospective dancers as someone they've either created in their imaginations, someone they'd know and trust, or just as anyone who could get these innocent people to come with him. Sometimes he's appeared as a woman to lure men here. But his true name is Seamus. I don't know what he is, exactly, but it's evil. How did he appear to you?" she suddenly asked Holly.

"As a mysterious knight, cloaked and medieval, on a snow-white horse. What about you?" she returned.

"To me he appeared as...do you want a lot of detail?" she asked. Holly nodded. Celaeno continued, "He appeared as a handsome man with longish hair, white as the moon, and softly glowing red eyes. He wore a black tunic, gauntlets, and boots. The only other color he wore was the silver shirt under his tunic and silver leggings. He rode a beautiful night-black Arabian stallion with eyes as red as his rider's. He was a man from a dream I had, and a fantasy I created, named Jonathan. And that's how he will always appear to me now. And I hate him all the more for it. I have so much to hate him for."

"Like what? You mean other than taking and keeping you here to dance for him?" asked Holly.

"Among other things, that is one reason I hate him," agreed Celaeno. "But there are far worse things he's done to me. You see, I didn't start out dancing here. I was moved from a different place in the forest. He moved me here so he could see me from his castle. He admires me, he says, for my utter defiance and unbreakable spirit. I've found that, if I concentrate hard enough, I can dance my own moves to different music other than what he intends me to hear. He showed me my parents' deaths through some sort of scrying mirror. After that he showed my sister's, and the boy I had a crush on for many years, until everyone I had known and loved was dead and I had seen it. He was trying to break me, to destroy any hope I had left. 'Why do you still fight?' he asked. 'There's no one left to fight for. Why not just make it easier on yourself and just dance?' I told him there was still one person left to fight for. Me. I swore when I had seen the last of my loved ones die that I would be free again someday. I didn't know how, but I swore I would. That just made him admire me more. And did he tell you that the dancers here need nothing to live? If he did, he lied. He gives us some sort of cordial at the end of each day that we need to instantly regain strength and vigor, as well as to stay alive. I refused to take it, fighting the men who tried to give it to me. I made them drop and break the bottle they carried, so all the cordial spilled. I knew it was just temporary defiance, but it was worth it. Seamus himself came down to me after that. He said nothing, just a strange spell that caused my upper body to paralyze. I wanted to fight as he stabbed me brutally with a syringe filled with the cordial. It hurt, oh how it hurt! The place he stabbed me bled too freely. He had stabbed so hard that there was a larger cut. And then he moved the needle all around inside my arm! I still have a scar there, you can see it," she broke off and pointed to a quarter-sized mark on her left arm over the veins, and continued, "but I didn't let him know he hurt me. He looked thoughtful as he rode away. The next day he came to me with a smile that I knew meant trouble for me. 'What's he going to do to me today?' I thought. 'Another spell, perhaps another whipping?' For he whipped me without mercy once, at the beginning. I didn't cry out, though I couldn't keep from making sounds of pain. Seamus kept saying, "Just admit defeat. Just cry out loud and I'll stop. Show me you're broken. Show me you're in pain. I know you are! Give up! Submit, you damned bitch!" But I wouldn't. Well, not intentionally. I weakened eventually and cried out, but not because I was admitting defeat. Seamus knew that. That's why he didn't stop then, and he didn't treat my wounds. And I had to dance with those open whip lashes on my back. The other dancers didn't say a word. Not a damn word! They've all been broken and stay silent, always. Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, he came to me and I wondered what he was going to do to me. He told me that I didn't just interest him anymore. I actually intoxicated him. I thought I was going to vomit when I heard that. He told me he found that he was rather lonely at the castle, and thought to take a queen. I told him that to have a queen, he had to first be a king. He just laughed and continued, saying that he could release me from the spell that keeps us all dancing. He told me I could be free again, if I just consented to become his wife. He would make me look older, closer to my real age, and I would have such wonderful things at the castle, jewels, gowns of silk and velvet, real food, a soft bed, and of course him. I couldn't believe I was hearing that. I wanted what he spoke of so badly, freedom, even if it didn't come with such luxuries. But the thought of what he would expect of me, as his wife, revolted me so. You know what I mean by that, yes?"

"Yes," whispered Holly. "It's sickening."

"Indeed," replied Celaeno as she continued. "I told him that I did long for my freedom, but if it meant becoming his, truly his, then it wasn't worth it. He was shocked, but I stayed strong on my answer. He asks every night, as he makes his rounds before he goes to bed. And I always tell him I'd rather die. I want Jonathan, not Seamus. I know that it's not Jonathan. Therefore I will not have him. Ever!" She sighed. "But sometimes I wonder why he came to me as Jonathan. There was another I would have trusted. My Angel. I believe I have-or at least had-a guardian angel. I saw him, felt him. I felt his presence, and him physically. I've felt his strong, invisible arms hold me close when I felt lost. I saw him too, in dreams and through my own waking eyes. He was magnificent. No, he is magnificent. I'm sure he's still here with me. That's another thought that keeps me sane, keeps me from breaking."

"What does he look like?" asked Holly.

"Have you ever seen the musical "The Phantom of the Opera"?" replied Celaeno.

"It's my favourite!" said Holly.

"Well, my Angel looks like Erik," said Celaeno. Upon seeing Holly's blank look, she added, "The Phantom. And I always liked how my father's name was the same as my Angel's." She smiled distantly, but sadly, while Holly tried to take in everything that Celaeno had told her. She couldn't believe how heartless this Seamus was. He had whipped her?! What was this monster that took delight in the suffering of, among countless other captive dancers, this innocent girl? Woman, she corrected herself. She's a woman, remember. Holly tried to think of something to say, something that would have some sort of meaning at a time like this.

"Your name is so beautiful," was all that passed her lips. 'No, no, no, you idiot! She doesn't care about that now! Say something that might make her feel better!' she mentally chided herself. But she was wrong. Celaeno looked at her in surprise, and then smiled appreciatively.

"Thank you," she replied. "It means 'The Dark One'. I've always liked it. It came from a book that my mother read to me when I was little. And thank you for listening to me. I've had no one to tell all that to up 'til now. Thank you."

"Anytime," said Holly. The two young women smiled at each other as a strange friendship under unbearable conditions was formed.

A/N: this is my first song fic, so be nice, and I'm open to suggestions!