2

The Angel's Voice

Angel took a moment to fully take in her surroundings. Every carving in the molding along the floor and the corners where the walls met the ceiling was his. Every room with furniture elegant and simple was his. Every fiber of every carpet was his. Every drop of ink on ever piece of parchment was his. Was she, by entering his house, now his?

"Who do you share this with?" she asked, curious as to why there would be so much space for one person.

"I share this with no one." Erik said, moving stiffly to another part of the room, as if unnerved by Angel's movements.

She looked back at him and stared into the eye peering out of the hole in his mask. "So you reside in this large house with no one but yourself? Doesn't it get lonely?" Angel thought, then added, "Of course it does. What a silly question. I suppose I meant to ask: why build such a large house when there is no one to share it with?"

Erik refused to show any emotion to this stranger. But beneath his thick exterior, he was hiding an expression that could bring any old woman to tears.

"Hmm?" Angel pressed, wanting an answer. He had been silent enough. "Why build such a large place for only yourself?"

Erik knew she would not let up until he answered her. "I built this 'large house' for myself because mankind long ago decided that I would forever be denied a companion." With years of practice, his voice came out with nary a crack nor a break.

Angel's brow furrowed in confusion.

"Mankind fears and hates that which they do not know and they do not know of me. Therefore I am feared and hated."

"I don't understand." she admitted.

"It is the way it has been for centuries and will remain I fear for many centuries. I have accepted this fact and that is why I reside beneath this Opera; hiding from the world." Erik said.

Angel wasn't satisfied with his reply but felt that if she pressed on he would revoke her access into his home. "Why do you wear that mask over only half of your face? If you wish to hide your face from the world, why not hide it completely?"

Erik's eyes narrowed slightly but then he corrected himself. This matter was not something he wished to discuss so openly with a stranger and so he would not. She had no right to go about asking such things in his own house! Yet he offered her with a twisted answer anyway. "Mankind fears and hates what it does not know."

Angel got the message to back off from the subject and let her gaze wander once more. Then she heard Erik's foot brush against the cement floor beneath him. She turned back to him and saw his awkward position. Knowing that she should not overstay her welcome, Angel began to head for the door. "I suppose you wish me to leave now. I thank you for your kindness and welcome into your home. Good night, Erik." She hoped that he would not be enraged by her calling him by name.

Angel's hand met the door handle and began to turn it when he spoke. "If you wish to wash up before you leave, you may." By the sound of his voice she could tell he did not have experience with offering help to people. Before, when he had let her into the gondola, his voice was authoritative and demanding. Now he was making an effort to sound kind and gentle.

A smile crossed her lips and she released her hold on the doorknob. "Thank you, kindly." Angel gave a small curtsey which was difficult due to her ragged and dirty clothes still sticking to her from the soaking in the water.

"Come," Erik said, trying not to sound too demanding, "I will show you to the washroom." Angel thought of a windup toy when he first began to move from his position. Stiff and broken at first and then loose and smooth. She followed where he led.

When passing through several rooms on their way to the washroom, Angel came across a coffin with an open cover. She stopped walking and Erik turned back to her after several steps ahead of not noticing she had fallen behind. He gave her a questioning yet understanding look. "What is it?" he asked.

Angel pointed with a shaky finger to the coffin, "Why is there an open casket?"

He sighed silently. "When I have finished my opera and have seen it performed upon the stage of the Opera House above us, I will take it in my arms and get into this casket. I will close the lid and that will be the end of me."

Her brows furrowed again. "Why-Why would you wish to die at that time?"

Erik answered without hesitation. "I will have finished my life's work and therefore will have no other reason to live. Perhaps the world will sleep much easier after I am gone for they will know that I no longer pose any threat to them."

Angel suppressed a smile. "What threat do you pose?"

Erik did smile. "That would take much explaining. Now come, the washroom is just beyond this curtain." He parted the silk lace curtain before him and revealed a small stretch of a hallway that led to single door.

Angel passed Erik without caution this time and entered the washroom, letting the smile creep upon her lips once the door had clicked shut.

The porcelain tub was full of clear water. It appeared to have recently been drawn. Only now, in the dimly lit room with no one to see did Angel shed her body of the ragged clothes which she had been wearing for heaven knows how long. She placed one foot in the water to test its temperature and then let her hole leg slide into the tub. In a matter of moments, Angel was sitting in the porcelain tub, leaning her head back to soak her hair in the clean water.

Dirt buildup from months that didn't wash away when she had been consumed by the water before swirled around in the tub. Angel ran her fingers through it many times before finally locating the bar of soap that had too been crafted into something elegant. It was oval shaped with small designs carved into the top. They matched the designs on the moldings along the ceiling edges and the floor edges.

Angel washed the grime from her body and after she had finished, emerged from the tub with clean skin that without the ragged clothes and dirt clinging to her was quite beautiful. Her whole body was quite beautiful in fact but because of her social ranking, the world failed to notice that. Sad as it was, that was the way things were and she could do little to change it.

Angel grabbed a towel from the rung nailed into the wall at her left and began to dry off, making sure her feet and legs were free of water before she stepped onto the tiled floor. Once the task was done, she went to examine herself in the mirror on the wall with a simple frame.

With her hanging over her shoulders and her naked breasts hidden just below the bottom of the mirror, Angel felt like a Prima Donna. True, she had a lovely voice but it often went unused. Only when she felt depressed and was plagued with insomnia did she sing. Now, not thinking of Erik, she let her voice ring free.

Her notes wafted through the air like the aromatic smells of fresh baked goods. Her voice ran through the house and met Erik's ears…

Erik turned from his composition to better hear the faint sound. It sounded almost as if one of the singers was practicing. At this time of night though? How silly and why would they still be in the Opera? Besides, he could never hear the girls and men's voices, even at their highest volume, this far down. That meant the voice had to be coming from Angel.

Erik stood from his bench and began making his way, step by step, closer to the washroom. With every step and every note that entered his ears, he grew a fondness for Angel's voice. How he wished he could train that voice and hear it sing his melodies.

A thought occurred to him; why couldn't he train her voice? It was clear that she had nowhere else to go and did not wish to leave. Perhaps God had sent him a blessing, the answer to his prayers after years of suffering. An angel… the Angel…