Part 3
Fighting against panic, Christine hurried to her bed and bending down she retrieved a shabby suitcase underneath it. She had to get out! She placed the suitcase on the bed and after opening it started packing it with her meagre possessions (trying to ignore the crunch of glass under her shoes) - her makeup, toiletries and brush set, a little trinket box with her mothers garnet necklace, two candles & flint, a bible, a spare pair of shoes, a nightgown, her hat and undergarments.
Opening her closet she took out her blue cloak and put it on, glaring at the white dresses hanging there. She would fetch those later. A lit candle set into a niche into the wall and protected by glass would stay for the next occupant - if there was one. Now, did she have everything? She gazed around the now bare room, her mouth a grim line when a new breeze wailed into the room. Yes, she did. No...wait! Something was missing.
Christine frowned, then her face went pale, her hand going to her mouth in alarm. The bouquet of flowers Raoul had given her! She had dropped them on the chair - but now they were gone. She had not taken them with her on her earlier flight from this room - the Phantom had come through the hole in the mirror and taken the flowers. Why? She found she did not want to know.
Despite her fear she drew closer to the broken mirror, shards of glass crunching underneath. When she reached it she cautiously peered through the hole. She could just make out a passage that gradually sloped down to....where? It was said there was a lake under the Opera - did it lead down to there? She was filled with a sudden curiosity to know, despite the danger of being captured by the Phantom. Every sense urged her to leave, but she ignored them. [I will only go a short way] she tried to reassure herself.
She went back to her suitcase and retrieving the candle lit it, carefully shielding the flickering flame with her hand. Her mouth dry, she walked to the mirror and stepped cautiously through the dark hole, though at one point her cloak caught on a jagged, bloodstained edge. Once in the passage she paused to listen. Apart from the breeze she could hear nothing. Faintly reassured she walked along the passage, stepping softly on the stone floor which turned into downward leading steps as the passage veered to the left.
She took a shaky breath and continued. Luckily the steps were not too steep as they spiralled down into the bowels of the Opera. After a few minutes the passage stopped and Christine found to her surprise that she had reached the shore of the lake - a vast one for it stretched out in front of her, looking like black glass, though every so often a tiny wave would lap the shore where she stood. The air was slightly stale.
In the far distance Christine could see a stone wall with three tunnel holes that someone with a small boat could travel through. The wall itself was covered with dozens of sconces holding lit torches that burned with an odd, colourless light. Christine shivered, for it felt dark and oppressive down here, despite the light in this cavern. She glanced upwards but could only just make out a ceiling.
So. It seemed that the Phantom's lair was reached through one of those tunnels in the distance, obviously by a boat...she peered about her and saw to the right a small jetty with a hitching post to tie a boat to. Staring at the lake she wondered how cold and deep it was.
She was a good swimmer - a rare talent among women she had found, though in her case she had been drawn to the lake by her childhood home when she was a child. Her father had taught her to swim and she had delighted in the water, loving the feeling of diving into the lake, swimming down into its cool embrace with her dark hair streaming about her. Her pleasant reverie was shattered when she heard in the distance a man singing, his beautiful voice filled with both plaintive longing and rage. It was the Phantom...
She gasped and peered at the tunnels in panic. There! In the left hand tunnel there was a dim, bobbing light drawing closer, getting brighter. Christine turned and fled back into the passage, running in her haste to get away...upwards, quickly now...had she been seen? [No, no..] her mind gibbered in relief. He had been too far away to see her, surely. Her candle sputtered out and darkness surrounded her, but she did not care. Darkness would not betray her like a candle light would. Upwards, quick!
The passage levelled out and she saw the welcome sight of her room through the jagged hole of the mirror and she clambered gratefully through it into her room. She rushed to her bed, closed the suitcase, grabbed it and headed to the door. Oops..her hands were full with both suitcase and candle. She managed to transfer the cooled candle to her suitcase carrying hand, opened the door with her now free hand, walked out and managed to shut the door quietly behind her despite her state of nervous panic.
She hurried along the corridors, meeting no one and when she reached a staircase she headed up a flight - then another - and another. She felt she needed at least three flights between her and her old room. It was silly, but she also wanted to be closer to the stars. Hopefully she would find a spare room. Luck was with her - the second room along the corridor (which showed evidence of regular upkeep) was vacant, the nameplate on the door empty.
Sighing in relief she opened the door into a room that was more spacious than her old one with a neatly made up bed, a dresser and a writing desk with chair. There was a big closet door as well. There was even a tiny window above the bed that let in light from street lamps outside. Best of all, the only mirror was a little oval one over the dresser. For now she was safe.
Suddenly overcome with exhaustion she put down her suitcase, put the candle on the dresser and took off her shoes and cloak. After lighting the candle and completing her toiletries she changed into her nightgown, blew out the candle and got into bed, smiling in gleeful triumph to herself.
"You will not find me tonight thou Dark Angel" she whispered. As soon as her head hit the pillow she fell asleep and dreamed that she was invisible, her laughter echoing throughout the Opera as a dark presence prowled restlessly throughout it.
In her vacated room he stood silent, thinking. She had left this room but this was to be expected. It was one more thing that he would have to forgive her for but he would do this. She would not have gone far.
Fighting against panic, Christine hurried to her bed and bending down she retrieved a shabby suitcase underneath it. She had to get out! She placed the suitcase on the bed and after opening it started packing it with her meagre possessions (trying to ignore the crunch of glass under her shoes) - her makeup, toiletries and brush set, a little trinket box with her mothers garnet necklace, two candles & flint, a bible, a spare pair of shoes, a nightgown, her hat and undergarments.
Opening her closet she took out her blue cloak and put it on, glaring at the white dresses hanging there. She would fetch those later. A lit candle set into a niche into the wall and protected by glass would stay for the next occupant - if there was one. Now, did she have everything? She gazed around the now bare room, her mouth a grim line when a new breeze wailed into the room. Yes, she did. No...wait! Something was missing.
Christine frowned, then her face went pale, her hand going to her mouth in alarm. The bouquet of flowers Raoul had given her! She had dropped them on the chair - but now they were gone. She had not taken them with her on her earlier flight from this room - the Phantom had come through the hole in the mirror and taken the flowers. Why? She found she did not want to know.
Despite her fear she drew closer to the broken mirror, shards of glass crunching underneath. When she reached it she cautiously peered through the hole. She could just make out a passage that gradually sloped down to....where? It was said there was a lake under the Opera - did it lead down to there? She was filled with a sudden curiosity to know, despite the danger of being captured by the Phantom. Every sense urged her to leave, but she ignored them. [I will only go a short way] she tried to reassure herself.
She went back to her suitcase and retrieving the candle lit it, carefully shielding the flickering flame with her hand. Her mouth dry, she walked to the mirror and stepped cautiously through the dark hole, though at one point her cloak caught on a jagged, bloodstained edge. Once in the passage she paused to listen. Apart from the breeze she could hear nothing. Faintly reassured she walked along the passage, stepping softly on the stone floor which turned into downward leading steps as the passage veered to the left.
She took a shaky breath and continued. Luckily the steps were not too steep as they spiralled down into the bowels of the Opera. After a few minutes the passage stopped and Christine found to her surprise that she had reached the shore of the lake - a vast one for it stretched out in front of her, looking like black glass, though every so often a tiny wave would lap the shore where she stood. The air was slightly stale.
In the far distance Christine could see a stone wall with three tunnel holes that someone with a small boat could travel through. The wall itself was covered with dozens of sconces holding lit torches that burned with an odd, colourless light. Christine shivered, for it felt dark and oppressive down here, despite the light in this cavern. She glanced upwards but could only just make out a ceiling.
So. It seemed that the Phantom's lair was reached through one of those tunnels in the distance, obviously by a boat...she peered about her and saw to the right a small jetty with a hitching post to tie a boat to. Staring at the lake she wondered how cold and deep it was.
She was a good swimmer - a rare talent among women she had found, though in her case she had been drawn to the lake by her childhood home when she was a child. Her father had taught her to swim and she had delighted in the water, loving the feeling of diving into the lake, swimming down into its cool embrace with her dark hair streaming about her. Her pleasant reverie was shattered when she heard in the distance a man singing, his beautiful voice filled with both plaintive longing and rage. It was the Phantom...
She gasped and peered at the tunnels in panic. There! In the left hand tunnel there was a dim, bobbing light drawing closer, getting brighter. Christine turned and fled back into the passage, running in her haste to get away...upwards, quickly now...had she been seen? [No, no..] her mind gibbered in relief. He had been too far away to see her, surely. Her candle sputtered out and darkness surrounded her, but she did not care. Darkness would not betray her like a candle light would. Upwards, quick!
The passage levelled out and she saw the welcome sight of her room through the jagged hole of the mirror and she clambered gratefully through it into her room. She rushed to her bed, closed the suitcase, grabbed it and headed to the door. Oops..her hands were full with both suitcase and candle. She managed to transfer the cooled candle to her suitcase carrying hand, opened the door with her now free hand, walked out and managed to shut the door quietly behind her despite her state of nervous panic.
She hurried along the corridors, meeting no one and when she reached a staircase she headed up a flight - then another - and another. She felt she needed at least three flights between her and her old room. It was silly, but she also wanted to be closer to the stars. Hopefully she would find a spare room. Luck was with her - the second room along the corridor (which showed evidence of regular upkeep) was vacant, the nameplate on the door empty.
Sighing in relief she opened the door into a room that was more spacious than her old one with a neatly made up bed, a dresser and a writing desk with chair. There was a big closet door as well. There was even a tiny window above the bed that let in light from street lamps outside. Best of all, the only mirror was a little oval one over the dresser. For now she was safe.
Suddenly overcome with exhaustion she put down her suitcase, put the candle on the dresser and took off her shoes and cloak. After lighting the candle and completing her toiletries she changed into her nightgown, blew out the candle and got into bed, smiling in gleeful triumph to herself.
"You will not find me tonight thou Dark Angel" she whispered. As soon as her head hit the pillow she fell asleep and dreamed that she was invisible, her laughter echoing throughout the Opera as a dark presence prowled restlessly throughout it.
In her vacated room he stood silent, thinking. She had left this room but this was to be expected. It was one more thing that he would have to forgive her for but he would do this. She would not have gone far.