Chapter Sixteen: The Cellars
November 4th, 1910, 5:30pm.
It was two days since I saw the Persian, two days since I saw the Opera Ghost, and two days since I saw the Vicomte. I mostly spent my time wandering around the upper floors of the Opera Populaire; above ground, the Opera House had a total of twelve floors, making it seventeen floors in total. I would often sit upon the highest catwalk and look out of the great skylights which overlooked the bustling city of Paris. But, this evening, the Persian's words reverberated in my head 'do not go to the cellars alone...there are terrible things down there...' what terrible things is he speaking of? What monster could be lurking beneath an Opera House?
These thoughts sparked my curiosity, all day the thought of the cellars plagued my mind; but, there also was the memory of the flaming head. So, that evening I let my more adventurous and curious side take over and I wandered over to the first set of stairs that led downwards; to cellar number one. With a lantern in hand and my other hand running over the stone wall I began the trek towards the mystery of what lurks below the Opera House; the first cellar was used for storage of scenes from different opera's and props, so it wasn't that frightening. It wasn't frightening, until I reached the Jacob's ladder and the unused scene from Faust where Josh was found hanging from his neck; chills went up my spine as I stared at a blood pool that stained the hardwood floor where Josh must have landed. I sighed and continued towards the stairs that led to terrible, cellar number two.
Cellar number two was less welcoming than the former; the air became a bit heavier and the lights were dimmer. Now I saw old posters from past opera's, one of them was for Don Giovanni; but there was something odd about it. The word 'Giovanni' was painted over in red paint, and the word 'Juan' and 'Triumphant' replaced it; my brows furrowed 'I've never heard of anything called Don Juan Triumphant'thought I. I pulled the old poster free of the wall, rolled it up, and placed it inside my purple cloak; that day I wore a perfect white dress (not the best to go gallivanting into a cellar in) along with the cloak, my hair lay on my bosom. I dimmed my lantern and cautiously walked to the stairs, not wanting another encounter with the flaming head; slowly, silently down to the third cellar I went.
Into the third cellar people rarely came; but they came all the same. I shielded my lantern's light as people called 'door shutters' walked past me (I was hiding behind a prop tombstone); 'door shutters' as people call them are just old men (or women...mostly men) who walk about the Opera House shutting doors, for, drafts are a large problem. As soon as they passed me, I went back to my course, as I walked, alone, down a hallway I heard a sound equivalent to Christy scratching her long, manicured nails on a black board! I hid, dropped the lantern, and covered my ears; hoping to save them from the horrid screeching! In this moment, the end of the hallway lit and I glanced up to see a head...at a man's height, but no body; and the head was flaming!
My breath was caught in my throat as the flaming head came closer to where I was sitting; I knew the head saw me...but what would it do? The screeching became louder and louder as the head approached me, I then started to feel little nicks and bumps from what seemed like teeth; now the flaming head was only a few feet from me...and it spoke. "Do not follow me! I am the Rat Catcher...do not follow me!" He yelled, my mouth gaped as I watched him walk down the darkened hallway and disappear around a corner.
I slowly stood a few moments after the Rat Catcher disappeared and shook off the 'icky' feeling I gained only moments before. I began walking again, but this time I did not pay much attention to where I was walking; in that moment my left foot did not feel ground and I panicked, I fell forwards with a cry and landed on the stairs, on my side. I stood and slowly rubbed my side whispering words of pain as I did so; then I looked down the stairs and I could not see a thing. All I saw was blackness, dark, heavy, blackness; a weak, scrawny, little girl such as I does not belong in such a place filled with fear and uncertainty. But, again, my curiosity prevailed and involuntarily, my legs began to walk down the stone stairs; taking the rest of me with them.
In this moment I heard quick footfall from behind me, I turned and someone placed their hand over my mouth, yanking me back up the stairs as they did so; I quickly lifted the lantern to find that it was the Persian who stopped me! "I told you never to go down alone! There are things down there which are greater than you or I and that are not to be meddled with, unless, they meddle with you! Come, let us return to the surface, it is much safer there" said the Persian, dragging me behind him, I sighed and yanked my arm away from him; he quickly turned and I shook my head.
"Unless you tell me what is down there I am going to see for myself" I said stubbornly, the Persian sighed and rubbed his face in agitation. "Besides, how did you know I was down here?"
"He told me, Elizabeth, the Trap Door Lover told me; he told me to stop you. That is what I intend to do" the Persian said, gently grasping my hand and pulling me back towards the stairs to the second cellar; again, I freed my arm.
"Lately, I've been thinking" said I, quickly "Do you know the Opera Ghost?" I asked, the Persian nodded; I smiled. "Are he and the Trap Door Lover friends?" Asked I, holding the lantern by my side; the Persian chuckled.
"You are a very intelligent girl, but no, they are not; for, they are...well... Un dans le meme" The Persian gave a small smile as I stood, gobsmacked, before him; I became excited for some reason and out of my cloak I tore the poster of 'Don Juan Triumphant'.
"Do you know what this is? Is it connected to him?" Asked I, quickly; the Persian smiled and nodded.
"This is his life-long work...it is still not finished" said the Persian "come now, let us return to the surface" said he as I returned the poster into my cloak; but I stood, motionless, the Persian smiled and chuckled. But before the Persian could speak a 'door shutter' jumped out of nowhere and yelled at us; I gasped and dropped the lantern, immersing us in total darkness. I stumbled backwards and found myself hopelessly falling...down...down until my head and body met the hard, stone staircase. My head smacked against the staircase as my body was thrown against it, I then bumped and rolled down the stairs with my arms outstretched; groping for anything to stop me. This I did in vain, I bumped and rolled and banged against the staircase until I fell upon the hard, stone floor of the fourth cellar.
I whimpered and groaned in pain as I lay on my stomach, my head swam and my body felt heavy; my face burned of hotness. My hand reached behind my head and softly touched it, feeling something wet I pulled my hand back to my face where I saw nothing! The darkness of the fourth cellar was so dark that I couldn't see my hand that was only inches in front of my nose! My fingers touched my palm and some of the wetness came off of my hand and touched the stone floor; I sighed and with a groan I pushed myself up, onto all fours. Dizziness overcame me which forced me to stay in that position for a while; after my dizziness left I outstretched my right hand, rising it to the level of my eyes.
I crawled upon the floor like this for a while, until I felt a cold, stone wall which I followed until it started to plunge downwards; 'this must be the stairs to the fifth cellar!' I thought. So, sitting on my backside, and putting my legs before me and with my arms at my sides; I lifted myself down to each step I did this for the first step...the second step...the third step...all the way until I hit the last step and my feet touched sand. I now noticed that I was not consumed by darkness any longer, candles were all around, illuminating the fifth cellar; I looked up to find a narrow boat which the Persian called a gondola bobbing about on the darkened lake. I sighed in relief, I made it, I made it to the Opera Ghost's home!
I then turned my attention back to my now-throbbing head; I lifted up my right hand and glanced at the palm, which was covered in dried blood. I looked down at my once white dress, now it was soiled in grime and dirt (along with a lot of blood), oh, what I monster I probably looked like! I sighed and stumbled to my feet, staggering and falling over several times before reaching the gondola; I slowly sat down inside the small boat and gripped the paddle, gently pushing the gondola across the water. Around one-third of the way across I heard mournful music that resonated from a piano...the music turned angry and I heard a man's yell "damned piano!" and then I heard a sound equivalent to someone running their fingers over all of the keys of a piano; the voice was of the Opera Ghost.
I then heard a long and frustrated sigh...and then saddened music resonated once more from the same piano; I paddled ever quieter, until the piano music stopped and a wonderful voice filled the air around me..
Chapter Seventeen: House on the Lake
November 4th, 1910
I was entranced as a sweet, sweet voice met my ears and softly kissed them. Then, I remembered the Persian telling me that the 'siren' was actually the Opera Ghost beneath the surface of the lake; singing through a hollowed reed. I smiled and thought up a plan; I would sing to the Opera Ghost. I stood in the narrow boat and readied my voice as the 'siren' continued singing; I placed the paddle down beside me.
In sleep he sang to me, in dreams he came...that voice which calls to me and speaks my name.
And do I dream again? For now I find-the Phantom of the Opera is there-inside my mind!
At this point the 'siren' stopped singing, I smiled, and sang again.
Those who have seen your face, draw back in fear-I am the mask you wear-my spirit and my voice in one combined! The Phantom of the Opera is there-inside my mind! He's there...the Phantom of the Opera!
I then knelt down, stretched my arms to the ceiling of the cellar and poured my body, mind, and soul into a solo melody; afterwards I was overcome with dizziness and fell backwards, thankfully, landing in the boat. I was utterly, fantastically, exhausted; I closed my eyes until I felt the gondola moving again, my eyes opened to find, standing before me, the Opera Ghost with a paddle in hand. The Opera Ghost was dripping wet and his hat was sopping; his wet cloak was still pulled around him, though. I smiled, finally, finally I could have relief! My eyes closed again and I felt the boat hit the shore; next thing I knew I was in the Opera Ghost's arms, he was carrying me out of the gondola.
Sometime later...
Without realizing it, I had fallen asleep! More importantly, I had fallen asleep in the Opera Ghost's arms! I felt something soft and warm underneath me and what felt like blankets on top of me; I opened my eyes to see that, indeed, there were blankets covering me, for, I was in a bed! A bed with red sheets and that was shaped like a swan; all around the bed was a black, lace canopy. I sat up to find that I was in a sparsely decorated room, there was a brown wardrobe, the bed, two side tables, and the walls were covered by red curtains; I slowly slid out of the bed and walked to the curtains.
A golden tassel presented itself, I smiled and pulled it; the curtains moved and revealed a picture of me that ran the length of the wall! I remembered posing for this picture, not a day ago! The painter was elderly (but did an astonishing job) and painted two of these pictures, one for me, and apparently, one for the Opera Ghost! This picture of me was in a golden frame which embellished the picture itself; I smiled and heard a jovial melody from the instrument of a piano dance into the room. Instead of doors curtains separated the rooms in the Opera Ghost's house, and this bedroom was no exception; I quietly pushed the curtain and walked through the threshold to find a humble kitchen.
The wall color was a light brown whilst the cabinets were black and the countertop color was also black; in the middle of the kitchen sat a small island and along with the cabinets there was a black, gas stove. I turned to find a small sink in which were placed two, white plates; I looked down to find hardwood floors and a red, silken carpet running over these floors in a small hallway. This hallway I followed, getting closer and closer to the happy melody; at the end of the hallway I came to three thresholds, one on the right, one on the left and one in the middle. The one in the middle was were the piano music was originating, with a smile I pushed the curtain back a tad to see a piano against the back wall of the room and the Opera Ghost sitting at it; playing the amiable song. This room was also painted light brown and inside were all different types of instruments, ten violins, three harps, four pianos (ranging in size), three organs, two cellos, a tambourine, five drums (ranging in size) two guitars, and a few I had never seen before!
Little did I know, there were mirrors on the particular piano the Opera Ghost was playing at; so, he saw my every move. I smiled and stared at him dreamily, his cloak flowed over his body and laid limply on the piano seat; his wide, brimmed hat had dried but still flopped over his head, he popped his cloak's collar which surrounded his neck up to his ears. His fingers moved busily about the pearly white keys, tickling the ivory within and creating one of the most pleasurable sounds I had ever heard; I smiled and realized that, without thinking, I walked right into the room and stood with my back against the wall. The Opera Ghost then started to play a even happier tone that made my foot tap the floor; out of sheer happiness I started to dance about the room, twirling and twisting, jumping and bouncing, giggling and laughing. The Opera Ghost guided his song to an end and turned to me, I smiled and bowed; he bowed his head and scanned me, I was still in that stained, no-longer-white dress.
"You had quite the gash on your head, Margarita" said he, running his gloved, index finger over the wood of his piano. "You really wanted to see this monster...that bad?"
"You are no monster, Opera Ghost, no monster at all! But a genius, yes...that you are; you are a genius, a composer, and a magician...you are wonderful" I whispered "and your voice" I began again as I sat next to him "your voice puts the morning robin to shame, sweeter than sugar...smoother than butter...more wonderful than a fall afternoon...more vibrant than a rainbow...and warmer than a summer's night. Your voice is incredible...and I am not just speaking of your singing voice." Said I, looking into his mysterious eyes; he was quiet, but his eyes talked very loudly. "Why do you hide away from me?"
Asked I, turning towards him and placing my hand beside his; hoping, praying that he would take it. I inched closer to him and smelt his wonderful perfume of ginger and mints, it smelt so heavenly! His eyes locked onto mine and never strayed, whilst mine were nervous...and he could tell. I saw a small smile cross his face, he made his fingers do the 'walking man' (were your hand is supported by your index finger and middle finger..it looks like a human walking) over to mine; where his hand grasped my own and tenderly held it. My cheeks heated and turned pink, I laid my head down upon his shoulder whilst my heart sang and my mind was, for once, at peace; then, I smiled.
"Opera Ghost?" I asked, looking up at him from his shoulder, he looked down at me with attentive eyes. "Would you...would you like to...to...to accompany me to-" I was cut off by his index finger pressing against my lips, he had a smile on his face.
"I will accompany you anywhere, Elizabeth...just say the words" said he, my heart screamed a perfect note...a note of love.
"There's an ice rink in the general square...it's already frozen over, and there's plenty of restaurants nearby...if you want to go out one day.." I whispered, the Opera Ghost smiled and agreed.
"Why don't we schedule that day for to-morrow?" Suggested he, my heart did a backflip in my chest and I instantly agreed "good" said he, pulling me into a hug; I hugged him tightly and he chuckled, kissing the top of my head and laying his right cheek down upon where he kissed. I had never, ever been this happy all of my life! Wait until I tell Victoria and Megan about my exquisite date with the most perfect man!