Chapter IV

I manage to sit and simmer for five more minutes. My patience runs out just as Erik begins to play a melody on his instrument.

"Rather than tempting my fury, why don't you come out and listen to Erik play?"

Erik. He's Erik now. Perhaps it's safe enough to listen a little and inch my way towards the cavern exit.

But how will I find my way through the labyrinth of his home? What if I fall in a death trap? How did I manage to escape the last time? I don't remember my route at all.

I sigh. Suppose I work out the details while I listen to him play.

"This is Erik's masterpiece," he declares as I shuffle towards the organ. "Since you will be staying with me now, you may hear it. Erik is not used to house guests or sharing the depths of his soul to anyone. However, I must perfect my work, and in so doing it is impossible for you not to hear its melody from your room."

His masterpiece!

I'm thrilled! What will it be? He can't play something already composed, since even movie-version Don Juan was written by Webber. So unless this Erik is a rip-off of another, I'm about to hear something truly never heard before.

I prepare to have my eardrums blown out by a barrage of madly passionate music. I intend on being moved to tears, drowned in emotions, and revived with a selection of chords too magical for reality. Will it be morose like Beethoven? Mad like Paganini? Sentimental like James Horner? He draws a breath. He puts his hands on the keys, his foot hovers over the pedal.

He plays. The first bars are frantic, chaotic, and altogether without melody. I wait for the thread of harmony. He must be letting the discord build, only to spring the harmony when most unexpected. The barrage of hideous note combinations continues. His hands fly across the organ.

I'm still waiting for music.

This isn't like anything I imagined. Is this all he's going to play? There is still no definitive breach to the cacophony of ugliness. No wonder the world isn't ready for his music. If this is what he's offering, I hope they're never ready for it. It's like Phillip Glass meshed ink-blotched symphonies and rewrote them backwards. It's The Bumblebee smashed into a tree and struggling to continue on foot minus a leg. Before I know it, tears are spilling out of my eyes and I'm trying not to let my sobs be heard. It's so awful! Not in the kind of way you'd expect from a brilliant composer, no. This... a masterpiece? It's too horrible. I want to run away, but I can't.

He turns to me, eyes blazing with the passion from his concert. At the sight of me they've become soft and gentle. He's expecting a response. He looks moved by my tears and asks what I think.

"It's not like anything I've ever heard before." I hiccup.

"Dear child, you are crying. Your tears are a blessing. Each drop does me honor."

"I—I want to go."

He seems puzzled, but not angry. "You must forgive Erik. He should have known his masterpiece was too intense to be shared with a lady."

That's very sweet, and yet horrible. It makes me sniffle.

I see something shift in his eyes; that yellow gleam that means Derek is about to reappear. Direction be hanged!—why did I think it like that—I'm getting away! I can hide in some dark crevasse of the underground and find my way out when it's safe. I hate these heavy ruffles that rustle away my location and try to trip me up.

I dodge down a tunnel—a cavern, really—keeping my eyes open for a good place to hide.

Hide and seek. I used to love the game as a girl, but now it feels utterly disturbing.

I can't breathe or he'll find me. I have to breathe or I'll die.

I don't hear him behind me, but that only makes me more anxious. I turn and turn and run and turn again. The floor falls out from under my feet and my stomach drops with me.

Forgot about the traps.

Water rushes into my eyes, nose, and ears. When I try to come up for air, my head strikes a solid structure. Panic sets in. While thrashing under the iron trap, I decide I'd be okay staying with Derek. My hands press on the trap, and I feel that it's a grate. I don't think I'm small enough to squeeze through an opening.

I'm resigned to death. One more push against the grate.

It lifts free, and after some sputtering and hacking, I can breathe.

"That was quite a game of cat and mouse. But now you see the mousey cannot win. Feeling a bit chilly, Miss Gibson?" I shiver, and I don't know if it's from the chill or his laugh. "Erik is teasing," he says. "You must change into dry things and I will send you back up since that is your wish. You have amused me well."

I go back up in Erik's long shirt, some men's stockings, and a very nice cloak that is supposedly too drab for him to get any more use out of.

I'm praying Mme. Giry doesn't see me.

Raoul does, though.

"Liss! Why are you dressed like that? In another man's clothes?"

In no mood for his accusatory glare, I snap back, "Erik took me again, and I fell in the lake, and the traps in there tried to kill me! Why? Do I need your permission to get kidnapped? Why am I even making excuses to you! If I want to go around a sopping mess in men's clothing, it's none of your business."

He's off put, but not entirely squelched. "What tried to kill you?"

"He did! Derek! The… opera ghost."

"Not you, too," he groans.

"He's real, you fop! And he's kidnapped me twice already!" I sneeze.

"Fop?" he frowns. "Should I start carrying a pistol for your protection?"

I snort. "Yes, Raoul. You should carry a pistol. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to find some warmer clothes."

"Shouldn't you like a bath?"

I stop and turn back around.

"Come home with me and I'll see to it that you have a bath and a good supper."

I laugh in disbelief. "I'm sure you would. But I thought I made it perfectly clear that I'm not a 'tart' like Miss Daa… Day."

"I promise not to bother you. Just a bath and warm food."

I chew the inside of my lip. "What about my clothes?"

"I'm sure we can find you something. Anything's better than… that," he gestures.

"Fine."

And with that, I'm sure I've sold my dignity for a long soak and a hot supper.

A/N: Long time, no update. My humblest apologies. Elephant Princess (Kuru, to be exact) has quite taken over my writing world.

The creepy Hide 'n Seek game came about through a very odd part in the 1990 Kopit/Richardson Phantom of the Opera miniseries with Charles Dance as the lead. The Phantom is pretty much a total sweetheart throughout the series, but a few quirky scenes involving stuffed animals and Erik chasing Christine through the underground seem like someone wants us to find him disturbed. I'm not buying it. Although the scene itself was pretty creepy.

Also, have any of you seen the animated/cartoon Phantom of the Opera? It's hilarious! And strangely very close to the original novel. Anyway, Erik's Don Juan piece in that is enough to make your ears bleed. I laugh every time he makes that dramatic pose just before banging on the organ like a sugar-high toddler.