I'm back already! Haha! That torn ligament, well, it just so happens that I have a sprained ligament and not a torn one, so this is what I have to do besides text one of my close guy friends who is H-O-T cute. Lol. I think this is going to be an awesome story, but fair warning, even though I think it doesn't matter because he is beautiful gorgeous, my phantom will not just have those little red spots and things, I will use the Phantom that is on Broadway. Hugh Panaro said that he got his inspiration for his phantom from Susan Kay's novel Phantom: The untold story of his life. It gives a whole new meaning to Erik and his sarcasm. I suggest that everyone read it.
Disclaimer: If I did own it, I would have got to meet my two favorite phantoms. Oh well, a girl can dream. Lol.
Gabriella woke in the middle of the night looking for her comforter that she knew she'd kicked off. For some reason it was suddenly like she was walking on Broadway (very cold and windy) and there was a musty smell, almost like the she remembered from the underground lake she'd visited when she was smaller. She felt around in the dark at the end of her bed not bothering to open her eyes until she realized that her cover was giving resistance, more than that of her 12 pound cat. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes before looking in the floor at the end of her bed. She froze.
In the light of her TV, she saw something she never expected. She rubbed her eyes again to make sure she wasn't hallucinating. There, at the end of her bad, laid an unconscious Phantom. She could feel her heart beating faster; if this man woke up right now, there was a possibility that she wouldn't see tomorrow morning. At least, she thought, he was asleep enough that she didn't wake up when she pulled the cover. She could see his semi-shallow breaths, so she knew for sure that he was alive. Praying that he didn't wake up in the next little while, she studied his features from the bed. The left side of his face was gorgeous. He had high, sharp, cheekbones, his skin was a little pale, but then again whose wouldn't be after living underground for that long, and his wig set in place perfectly. His lips were beautiful from the angle she could see them, but she knew that if she could see him from a different angle, she would see the beginning of his deformity from under his mask.
His mask, she thought, eyeing the smooth white piece of, well she didn't really know what, that covered the right side of his face. She had the odd urge to remove it, even though she knew what she would find underneath, the skin would cover almost nothing, she would be able to see the skull and muscle under what seemed to be clear skin, a membrane of some sort, it would move under his wig and show thinning, almost nonexistent hair, and his lips would droop and be pulled to more to one side. His mask was beautiful, though. It looked as though it had been painted and polished. As scared as she was, she had a really strong urge to touch him, maybe just to make sure she wasn't just imagining that he was lying, motionless, in her bedroom floor.
Her foot was beginning to hurt, but she knew she couldn't use her crutches to walk out of her room, knowing that they made a lot of noise and took up a lot of space. As quietly as she could, she limped out of her room to grab her Advil and think about what she was going to do about an insane, hot guy lying in her bedroom floor. Her first thought was that she needed to hide the knives and anything that had loose ropes. It wasn't the best idea, but her first thought was to throw all of the knives into the washing machine. There weren't many things she had to worry about that had to do with ropes; there were chords attached to things, but she figured he couldn't use those because he couldn't find the knives to cut them loose.
Her foot was throbbing, and she knew that if she didn't face her problem now, she would stall until he woke up, and then where would she be? She limped back into her bedroom and turned on her standing lamp, hoping the less light there was the less likely he was wake up. She looked at him carefully for a moment. He looked uncomfortable, lying slightly to the side with one arm underneath him. Even if he was crazy, she still didn't think he should be uncomfortable. Very carefully, she eased his arm out from under him. His hands we're cold, but from what she read, that was normal. She stuffed her ladybug pillowpet under his head, carefully to not move his wig. She froze for a moment when she moved his head: he grumbled something and turned to where he was flat on his back.
She sat in the floor beside him, pondering on what to do. She wasn't sure what happened, but the next thing she knew she woke up lying beside The Phantom, who still appeared asleep. She scrambled away from his side. It was the worst decision she could've made. She hadn't realized it, but his legs had become tangled in his, so as soon as she moved he jumped up, looking confused. She sat frozen, unsure of how to proceed. When he looked up and locked eyes with her, she lost her breath. Apart from the paralyzing fear, he had the most beautiful eyes she'd ever seen. They were a golden brown, almost like caramel.
OhGodohGodohGod, she thought. She could see the confusion turning to anger in his eyes. It was unusual that it took him that long to register what was happening around him. He was a genius after all, maybe it had something to do with the fact that he was here.
"Do you dare to follow me to my lair?" He bellowed.
Not sure of her voice, she frantically shook her head.
"WHY ARE YOU HERE?" He stood; she was still sitting in the floor.
She was terrified, what was he going to do to her? She swallowed the fear she felt and took a shaky breath.
"Shhhhh…." Was all she managed to get out.
He faltered for a moment, unsure of how to proceed with her response.
"What do you mean to shush me?" He said, lower than before, but still loudly.
"You'll… you'll wake my parents and my little sister if you keep yelling like that and since you're not supposed to be here. It might not be a good idea to yell." She glanced at his hands, his fingers were twitching. She could just imagine that he was resisting the idea of wrapping those hands around her throat and choking the life out of her.
"What do you mean?" He said, raising his voice again.
"I mean, I don't know how, but somehow you ended up in my house, and it wouldn't be so great if my parents found out." She started squeaking out, but her voice did get stronger. She tried swallowing her fear again. Maybe it was from the adrenaline, but she was starting to gain a little confidence.
"Why did you bring me here?" He said yelling again.
"I'm serious; my family owns guns, which will be brought out blazing, if you don't lower your voice." She whisper-yelled.
About the time she said that, she heard footsteps coming from her mom's room.
"Get in!" She jumped up and shoved him toward her closet door, succeeding in getting him in the closet and closing the door by catching him off guard.
She sat back down in the floor just in time for her mom to open the door.
"I… What are you doing in the floor? I thought I heard something." She looked the room.
"Oh, I… uh, I slept in the floor last night." She said, catching her breath.
She looked at her funny, not questioning, and backed out of the room, closing the door behind her. When Gabriella opened the door, she was prepared for what she was going to face. She held her hand up and peeked inside. He burst through the door and went for her throat but was shaken that she'd expected it. He put his hands on her arms and shook her.
"WHO ARE YOU?" He was squeezing her shoulders and it was beginning to hurt, but she kept a straight face. Her foot was already hurt, so she put her mind on that pain instead.
"If you let go of me, I'll tell you everything I know." She said calmly.
He glared at her," Why should I?"
"Because, you want to know what's going on, and though I'm not sure how it happened, I can help you figure it out."
He deliberated for a moment before releasing her from his grasp. She shrugged one shoulder, hoping to ward off some of the ache he had caused there.
"You are The Phantom of the Opera or O.G. if you prefer. I am aware of your name, but I don't know how you feel about me saying it." She sat leaned down to pick up her crutches as she said it.
"How do you know this? Are you a spy?" He clenched his fists together.
"Well, if you haven't stopped to look around, you are not in your time. This is the year 2012, and since you lived under the Opera House in the 1800s I'd say that it's fairly obvious."
The Phantom looked around the room for a moment, there were things he recognized: A chess table, a marionette, and the bookshelf, but there were things like a mirror playing pictures and a lamp that had something other than a candle in it. He knew there were ways to harness power; he used the lake to control many of his inventions, but there was no water around them.
Gabriella could see him pondering on the room around him. She was slightly relieved that he hadn't actually tried to kill her yet. She hobbled over to the bedroom door and looked to see if anyone was in the living room, one of the perks of living in a single story house. Her step-dad was working a 24-hour shift at the ambulance service, so she didn't have to worry about him, but she knew her mom wasn't working. She needed to take immediate action.
"Hey, Mom." She yelled.
"Yeah?" She heard back, it didn't sound like her mom was walking in her direction, so she relaxed a little.
"Can you run to the store and grab something for breakfast? I have money on the coffee table."
Her mom didn't answer, but she heard the keys rattle before hearing a muffled 'be back in a few minutes." She let out a relieved breath before turning back to the Phantom.
"Follow me." She said before walking, slowly on her crutches, out to the living room.
"Do you know what is happening?" He asked. This time he actually sounded curious.
"No, but I'm going to show you why I know so much about you." She picked her copy of Phantom of the Opera and handed it to him.
He studied it for a few moments," This looks nothing like me." He said, still looking at the box.
"No, but this isn't the only version of that movie. You look like the Phantom that is on Broadway, which brings me to my second piece of evidence." She picked up a book on the bookshelf beside the entertainment center.
She showed him the cover of the novel. It was her copy of Susan Kay's Phantom novel, "These two versions aren't exactly the same, but I assume that they each have true points."
He took the book from her and flipped through the pages. He looked up at her with a confused look and went back to looking through the book.
"This book isn't finished," He said tossing it at her, "Look."
She didn't understand what he was saying, so she flipped through the book. He was right. The book cut off about two-thirds of the way through.
"That can't be right," She said before flipping through it again, "Let me see that movie."
He handed her the movie and she quickly put it in and pressed play. Everything seemed fine at first. Christine sang "Think of me" and was whisked away to the Phantom's lair. But then something strange happened. The Phantom was singing "Music of the Night," and as soon as he closed the curtain around his bed, the movie just stopped. There was no flash or snowy screen to show that the movie had messed up, it just stopped. She furled her eyebrows in confusion and looked at The Phantom. He looked like he had just been the one to see a ghost.
"That song…." He stopped.
"Music of the Night. Don't you know that? You wrote it." She said.
"Obviously," She heard the sarcasm leak into his voice, "It's the song I sang to Christine just before waking up here."
"You don't think…" She started, but didn't know what to say.
They locked eyes. She could see the confusion and fear again in his. She didn't know why, but he was sent here for a reason. She needed to find out.
I am really enjoying writing this story. It's unconventional, but I didn't use the movie phantom, so my phantom isn't as handsome behind the mask. I don't care though, because I love the Broadway Phantom, and Hugh Panaro is a sexy beast. I'd marry him if he'd sing for me, I don't care if he is 30 years older than me. As I suggested earlier, everyone should read Susan Kay's Phantom novel. I loved it, and you can download a PDF of it online. I know this is a cliffhanger, but I shouldn't have too much trouble updating. I kind of have a plan on how this story will play out, but if anyone has any ideas, feel free to share. As I said before, I am writing just for the entertainment of others, so reviews are not necessary, but they are welcome. I hope you enjoyed it.