Within the Darkness
Chapter 4
By: Mercy-chan
A/N: This is a fantasy twist to our beloved tale.
Disclaimer: I do not own POTO who obviously belong to ALW and Leroux
A lone figure was hunched over a small writing table, scribbling furiously on aged parchment. Next to this figure sat a monkey figurine that swayed slowly, back and forth, a haunting melody streaming forth as it echoed off the tomb walls. The parchment held scribbled notes in childish handwriting and long chains of beautiful music scattered across it. The Phantom narrowed his eyes at the scroll of paper and swept his arm across the table with a fierce snarl of rage. Everything fell to the floor with a great crash as it pierced the silence that always surrounded him.
"It will never be good enough! I must have her, she is my muse. Only with her sweet voice will I be able to make my song take flight. Oh Christine..." he sighed as he ran a hand down the cool leather of his black mask. He was truly cursed in this world inside the mirrors. To be able to look upon her face but not be in her presence was truly hell. Once he had a hold of her, he could drag her into his world and never release her. He had been promised that he would have Christine as his own. The Phantom slowly turned his face towards the single mirror in the center of his dark chamber.
"I will have you Christine! Just you wait…I will have you in my world soon enough. You will see to it that I do Erik…you cannot deny the Phantom," the dark entity whispered as he glided towards the mirror. He pressed a skeletal hand to the surface and looked towards the other side beyond his prison. The other world began to materialize but he caught a glimpse of two yellow eyes staring out from the darkness back at him. Dark obsession was swirling behind those golden depths.
A dark shape moved through the halls with a heavy stride. This ghost meant to be heard tonight for he was in a foul mood. The Phantom had been growing more restless in the last two months upon Christine Daae's arrival. Erik swiftly turned a corner and banged on the door with a swift fist. There had once been giggling coming from behind the door but now only silence greeted him. He gave a maniacal laugh that reverberated off the walls and through the empty hallways. Muffled cries of surprise and the shuffling of feet reached his sensitive ears further down the hall.
"Run little rats" he whispered as he heard the scurrying of little padded feet from the left. He quickly stalked in that direction to frighten the little rats back to bed. It amazed him how brave the little ballerina's sometimes were to venture into the dark halls. They knew a ghost lurked in the shadows but he knew his pranks were always childish in nature so most of his victims were only given a small fright. No one had actually had a glimpse of him except for the stage hand, Joseph Buquet. He had seen Erik in a heated debate with the Phantom in a dark corner of the prop and costume closet. The sight had truly scarred the man and the wild tales of a deaths head and fiery, burning eyes were born.
"He is here, the Opera Ghost!" came the elated and scared voices of a small group of girls further up the hall. Erik took heavier footsteps to give the impression of following closely behind the girls and they hurriedly raced into a door meters ahead of them. He saw one of the girls throw a small object down the hall before the door was slammed shut and locked. Curiosity piqued, Erik strode over to the small object and crouched down next to it. He narrowed his eyes and saw a dark outline of a small portrait. An older man was staring solemnly up at him and Erik felt a rush of recognition overwhelm him. He had seen those brown eyes before; although the ones he knew were dull and tired. He swiftly picked up the small portrait and looked at the faded paint. Erik snarled in anger as he swiftly rose to his feet and headed down the hall towards the small chapel.
"Oh little Sorelli, you have been a naughty girl" he said with icy chill in his tone. Erik knew the other girls had been bullying the little Daae but he had ignored it. She was another chorus girl that would soon get lost in the background. As much as he told himself she was just another girl in the Opera House, he felt a certain draw to her. She wasn't pretty or bubbly; if he was honest she was rather plain and boring. Christine was all awkward limbs and gawky as a teenager. He felt a certain tingle whenever she would look his way though; it felt as if he had had those brown eyes on him before. A memory was on the horizon in the back of his mind but he could not recall why this girl would be involved in his memories.
Erik felt an uncomfortable feeling wrap around his heart as he squeezed the portrait in his hand. If he had stopped the bullying when she first came here, she wouldn't be facing the harshness of the other girls. The fact that they had taken her father's portrait made Erik seethe with anger. He swiftly opened the door and stepped into the small cathedral, intent on putting the portrait back. He stopped suddenly when he glimpsed a figure curled in a ball on the floor. He immediately knew the ball was Christine and he could see that she was trembling from being on the cold ground. His vision altered and he glimpsed a small boy, beaten and bloodied lying on the ground. He was shivering and crying in a layer of filth and straw, so lonely and afraid. Erik immediately began to walk towards the small boy and reached out a hand with a desperate need to comfort the small child.
"Father" a small, feminine voice sighed. Erik jerked out of the vision and stumbled back a few steps as his hand came up to grasp his chest. His heart was beating violently against his ribs and he took several deep gulps of air to get his heart rate in check. It had been years since he thought of his life in the gypsy camp. So many memories of pain, humiliation, and so many other emotions a child should never have to suffer through. He could tell Christine was going to suffer through the same things; though not in the same brutal fashion he had been exposed to. Erik felt something building in his chest as he strode towards the front of the chapel. He placed the small portrait on the stand and waved his hand over the candle as it came to life. A soft light flickered filled the corner of the cathedral and Erik brought his eyes back to the huddled child on the floor.
"I will look after her and protect her while she is under my watch here in the Opera House" he swore under his breath. He traced her round face with his eyes and saw the tear tracks dried to her cheeks. He knew that she had come to talk with her father and had found his portrait gone. His anger returned and he knew the ballet girls would receive a personal visit from the Opera Ghost. Erik knew they all were jealous of the motherly affection that Madame Giry had bestowed upon the orphan when they lacked that relationship in their own lives. The ballet corps would soon learn that the ghost had taken Christine Daae under his wing. She would need protection in this world and from the supernatural being that stalked her from behind the mirrors.
Christine shifted uncomfortably on the floor and Erik cautiously approached her. He reached out a hand but pulled it back to his side at the last second. Did a monster deserve to touch such an innocent creature? The only other time he had been touched in his life was by his jailers in the camp. Shuddering at the nasty jeers that filled his head, he shook himself clear of the nightmares from the past. Erik cautiously reached a hand towards Christine and put it under her left shoulder. Intent on picking her up gently and taking her to her bed, he began to slide his hand under her back when Christine began to shift and opened her bleary eyes. Erik knew he had jostled her out of sleep and immediately dropped her to flee into the shadows. Christine fell to the floor and shouted in surprise when her head smacked against the stones behind her.
"Oof!" she shouted in pain. Christine dwelled for a moment on the pain before sitting upright frantically. There was a faint chill in the room and she allowed her frightened eyes to roam around the room. Upon seeing that there were no mirrors in the room, she gave a great sigh of relief. Noticing a soft light coming from the corner, she turned her head and saw the outline of her father's precious face in the portrait frame. She gave a cry of startled joy and clumsily got to her feet to rush towards the alter area. Happy tears began to pour down her face and she looked around in excited wonder.
"Thank you! Whoever you are, thank you so much!" she said with great radiance. Erik felt the breath leave his lungs as he stared at her bright eyes. Gone was the dull and pained look in her eyes. She shined with an inner beauty at her happiness and Erik felt his chest squeeze in affection. He would make sure she always remained happy because her smile was worth seeing. With a new resolve, Erik pushed along the walls and swiftly left the chamber as Christine kneeled down to pray for her father. Erik would need to inform Madame Giry of wondering ballet girls past curfew.
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Meg swung her legs against the side of the stage as she sighed with exhaustion. Her mother was being extra ruthless today because of the other girls' midnight escapades the previous day. Rehearsals weren't even close to being done and nothing seemed to impress her stoic mother. Meg had begun to notice differences in her mother's behavior. Antionette had been paying extra attention to Christine and Meg was beginning to feel the jealousy the others girls had been displaying. She understood deep down that her mother was only concerned for Christine. Meg had lost her own father at a young age although she didn't remember him. If she had lost her mother now, she would be just as lost and scared by herself. Christine sat next to her and gave Meg a small smile. She looked tired but there was a small light in her eyes that Meg noticed had been missing for months now. Meg was about to open her mouth when she saw a shadow pass over her from above. She turned around at the same time Christine did and looked up into the cold eyes of Sorelli.
"I am sorry about last night Christine…it won't happen again" Sorelli said with an angry tremble in her voice. The worlds sounded like a mix of anger and fear as Sorelli's eyes darted around in a paranoid fashion. She could still hear the dark whispers that crept out of the shadows around her bed last night. That hauntingly beautiful voice, scathing and dangerous as it surrounded and engulfed her in the darkness. The cursed name of Christine had been whispered in her ear and the threats of harming the other girl again made Sorelli faint with fright. The older girl knew it wasn't a dream and her future in the ballet was a stake if she continued to ignite the Ghost's wrath. Sorelli scurried away after throwing a glare back at the two younger girls.
Meg had grabbed Christine's hand during the exchange and she gave it a reassuring squeeze. Christine smiled in gratitude and looked up towards the flies in thought. Her eyes suddenly fell upon the ghost who had walked out from behind the mirror that night weeks ago. She saw the faint outline of a white mask and she saw him simply tilt his head to the left as if he were studying her. A chill of unease rushed through her and she allowed herself to blink for only a moment. He was gone before her eyes had readjusted.
A/N: Thanks for much for reading and please review! :D
