Chapter 4: I Get Caught In A Bit Of A Pickle. . .Well, Noose

I gasp, my hands still covering my mouth, before I finally let my hands fall limp at my sides. Standing there for about five minutes, mouth agape, I'm not certain of what I'm supposed to do.

Then, I come back to my senses and realize I must go after her. Trotting over to the mirror, I search for a moment to see how she got through. After all, people don't just walk through mirrors! Finally, I encounter a tiny crack on the side, and open it with a little elbow grease.

I make sure to close it behind me, not wanting anyone to come into our room and seeing the mirror opened. Although they'll freak out when we're missing, it would be worse to lead them to this man who is apparently Christine's angel.

Walking down the tunnel inside the mirror, I realize there are several different paths that I can take. My heart is pounding in my throat, so I try my best to listen out for the sound of Christine's voice, and look down on the stone path to see splashes of water in the shape of footprints. They are faint, and it takes decades to finally follow them to the right place, but I know it's the right place when I see a giant lake in front of my leading to a cave-like structure with candles. There is a cage door hovering above the entrance of the cave, and it's open, so I can only assume that Christine's angel has taken her in there.

I notice it's a long distance to walk in the water and make it to the entrance, but I'm willing to do so in order to find Christine and take her back. I know nothing about her angel, and honestly don't know if he's truly her angel! So, it's vital that I find her and bring her back to our room.

Trudging my way through the horrifying gunk that is the sewer water, I try to remain calm as I make my way to the cave. When I arrive there, I notice there's a small alcove right outside the entrance. I hide in there and peek out for a few moments to take in my surroundings.

An organ is backed up against the farthest cave wall, and sheet music is littered all over the ground. Seeing that I've been focused on finding Christine, I finally notice that the man is singing softly to her as he carries her somewhere behind a black curtain. His voice is overwhelmingly powerful, while at the same time holding a sense of gentleness.

It's a wonderfully unique paradox.

When the man begins to walk back to the center near the organ, his head begins to turn towards me, and I rapidly pull back into my hiding spot, lungs expanding and shrinking abruptly.

Has he seen me?

I wait for a brief moment, barely breathing so that I don't alert him to my presence. After feeling better about the situation, I lean around the side and peer into the entrance once more, and find that the man is not standing there anymore. In fact, I don't see him anywhere. My feet begin to inch in the direction in which Christine was taken, but abruptly feel an object tighten around my neck.

As it continues to grow tighter and I feel another body close behind me, my instincts tell me that it is a noose that is around my neck.

"And what do you think you're doing down here?" A dark, deep voice whispers in my ear, deathly close to me.

I can only swallow in response as a strange feeling engulfs me, and I assume it's my fight-or-flight response trying to urge me to escape. My lack of response results in the noose getting squeezing my windpipe and black dots to appear in my vision.

"What do you think you're doing here?" The voice is harsher, closer this time.

"I was only following Christine." I choke out.

Death seems imminent as the black dots begin to block out most of my vision, and I can feel my head growing lighter as my lack of oxygen keeps me from thinking clearly.

"I'm not going to kill you, if that's what you think."
The noose is gone within seconds, and I pant, falling to my hands and knees as I try to force large doses of air back into my lungs. A splitting headache is the effect of my near-death encounter, but it's worth the pain to have the relief of being able to breathe and know I'm alive.

"You are a fool if you think you will be able to leave, though." He adds.

My head snaps up in complete shock, as my brain tries to process what's just been said. Am I hearing correctly? Or have I already passed out and this is all a hallucination?

"Wait, what?"

"You'll have to stay here. You can't go blabbering to everyone else about this place."
He takes my hand firmly, before leading me into his lair. My eyes continue to go back and forth between his organ and the pieces of scattered sheet music on the ground, as I try and persuade him to let me go back.

"Monsieur, I would really like to go home. I've no intention of telling anyone about this place, but can't you please return me? I just got here." I beg.

Although his icy blue eyes are physically light in color, they contain a pallet of darkness within them that tell me he's lived a harsh, neglected life. The darkness that resonates from him appears to be directed at me, and it's clear that he intends to frighten me, but I can't seem to be scared.

"Aren't you afraid?" His voice sounds indifferent, but something tells me that my lack of fear startles him.

"Why should I be?"

He seems surprised by my answer, but the only way I can assume this is because he doesn't say anything. I wait for a retort, but he merely sits down on his organ stool and begins to play. Notes of grandeur sweep around me and envelop me in their enriching sound. I find myself unintentionally humming along quietly, closing my eyes for a moment before opening them to watch how his hands glide gracefully across the ivory keys.

And then the music stops, and those sorrowful blue eyes are locked onto mine once more.

"What is your name, child?"

"Shadow."

He finds this amusing.

"Your name is Shadow?"

"Yes."
He ponders this for a while, before letting a smile, though small, form.

He wouldn't be the first one to think my name is unusual.

"I suppose since you're now going to be staying here, you can help me with all of my tasks around the opera. Since you will be helping, should I ever need you, I will write a note to the managers calling you The Phantom's Shadow. You can be my assistant." He continues playing the organ as though his song was never interrupted.

The Phantom's Shadow? It wasn't a bad name. But why did I even need a different name?

"So, does that mean your name is Phantom?"

"No." He answers simply, before his eyes seem to alight on me for a moment longer than normal; he immediately ceases playing. "Dear, Shadow, what's happened to you?"

My mind is full of bewilderment at his inquiry, but I immediately know what he's talking about when he lightly touches my cheek. Heart racing, I worry that if he can see it in this dark place, I know the others will see it.

If I am ever to see them again.

I feel as though I am reliving the whole incident with Carlotta as his eyes continue to gaze at me with question about my welted cheek. Tears threaten to cascade before I turn away and decide to evade him, having not known him but for a few minutes.

"Nothing."

"If it was nothing, there wouldn't be anything there." He counters.

I wonder if I should be truthful with him, and then decide that there's no harm in telling him since he's most likely the only one that stays down here, and likely doesn't come into contact with any other person in the Populaire.

"La Carlotta. . .she. . ." I lose my voice, unable to say anything further.

I still can't seem to comprehend the fact that someone has gotten angry with me to the point of physical abuse. Especially abuse destructive enough to leave a mark.

A storm brews in those dark eyes once he hears the beginning of my story.

"What did she do?"

"She slapped me." I manage to mutter.

A long silence passes between us as he takes this information in, and during this pause I recall that he is an attempted murderer, though I probably deserved it for invading his territory. I try to pull back some of the spine-tingling terror that I felt when that noose enclosed itself around my neck, but I couldn't seem to make it happen.

How can you fear a person who appears to have never been taught any better?

"That toad never should have slapped your unmarred cheek, Little Shadow." His voice doesn't contain the slightest sympathy, but his next statement lets me know he is sincere. "I hope they heal soon."

A ruffling of sheets is detected in my eardrums, followed by a familiar form in my peripheral vision. I look to see that Christine is now awake, and once she registers that I am present with her and this. . .phantom, her eyes grow wide.

With lithe, graceful steps, she makes her way over to the Phantom with curiosity spilling over out of her light brown eyes. As she gently moves her hand to caress his face, his eyes close. I haven't been able to hear any ounce of emotion in his voice or see any sort of sentiment in his eyes, but his eyes closing show more emotion than his voice or eyes could ever say.

He is. . .enamored with Christine!

This intimate moment between the two of them is shattered when Christine's curiosity suddenly gets the better of her, and she removes his mask. In all of two seconds, the Phantom is off of his organ bench and covering his face.

He curses at her, his face contorted with grief and betrayal.

"You little viper! Is this what you wanted to see?!" He screams.

I refuse to look at his face the moment I realize he's trying to hide it, because I would not like to make him feel uncomfortable. It's obvious that some sort of deformity has made him feel like he doesn't belong to the world, and I do not wish to make him feel any worse about it.

Once he has calmed down, I turn around to see that the Phantom is no longer facing Christine and I, and when he faces us again, he has somehow retrieved his mask and it is back in place.

"Come, we must return." He swallows and looks at me when he says this. "Those fools who run my theater will be missing you."

He gingerly leads Christine and me to a boat, and as he does so, I can feel my drowsy state beginning to return to me. I'm sure he notices as I stumble several times as I try to board the boat.

Before we make it to the room, I'm fast asleep.