Chapter 5
Yulia spent that night slaving over a rebuttal to the Opera Ghost. The girl did not handle tension well, and being threatened with losing her job certainly did not bode well. Perhaps she should not have insinuated that Daaé was having an affair with the man, but her tactless nature and the fact that he not only had a two-way mirror, but a secret passage into Christine's dressing room as well, certainly left few assumptions for the casual viewer.
Finally, at three o'clock in the morning, Yulia was satisfied with the wording of her letter. It was actually a hidden apology for her behavior, but at quick glance, it would have looked defensive. She really didn't care how this Erik chose to view it.
Exhausted, Yulia crawled into her small bed and tried again to place together what she knew. A man named Erik was living within the Opera House pretending to be a ghost. Perhaps he was merely an eccentric. Granted, a violent eccentric, what with dropping chandeliers and all. However, he obviously had a small, albeit twisted, sense of humor; no humorless man would make a pompous diva croak like a toad! And then, of course, there was the connection to Daaé. That was what puzzled Yulia. Though he was clearly quite insane, he also had to be very clever to pull of the existence he led. The young woman sighed. And why was he concealing himself? And furthermore, why did she even care to begin with?
Because it was dangerous, and that made it exciting. Yulia suddenly became very disgusted with herself. She was pursuing a recluse, and making a fellow chorus member's life miserable, because she was bored with her dull and pessimistic existence.
Her eyes began to ache as she fought against tears; crying showed weakness. If she wanted to survive, if she wanted to gain stature, she could not be weak. And if she planned to deliver her letter tomorrow, she certainly could not have a faltering resolve.
The next day, when she was sure Christine had left for the day, Yulia calmly made her way into Christine's dressing room, which never seemed to be locked.
Having found the proper hidden switch on the mirror, Yulia took the lamp off of Christine's dressing table and defiantly made her way down the unknown passage to deliver her letter.
Noticing a distinct drop in temperature, Yulia became concerned as she pondered just how deep, and how far, this winding road would take her.
After nearly shattering her ankle twice, she ended up on the shore of a subterranean lake. Shivering slightly, she whispered, "M. Erik?"
Clearing her throat, she called, a bit louder, "M. Erik!"
Vexed at having received no reply, she explained her purpose, "Monsieur, I have a letter for you! Goddamn you, sir, answer me! I could've gotten killed walking through your little maze! M. Erik, will you please…Ah—!"
Yulia was suddenly swung hard from behind, and felt a noose tightening around her neck.
"Inquisitive little child, you are, Mademoiselle. Didn't I tell you I was working and did not wish be disturbed?" a voice hissed in her ear.
Yulia lost hold of her note, and sputter helplessly, "Read the…please! Air…"
He forcibly released her and she fell to the ground as he went to examine her letter. As the man read her note, Yulia was filled with mixed feelings of icy fear, respect, and awe. This phantom was tall, wore formal clothes, a flowing cloak, and a felt hat. Certainly not the ragged eccentric she had expected.
After several minutes, Yulia ventured, "Do you accept my apology, Monsieur?"
He turned to face her, and she was struck by the expressionlessness of his mask. "Yulia Alexandrovna Kazakova, I shall not accept your apology until you heed my wishes; you apology to Mlle. Daaé and hold your tongue around her. Then, you can rest assured that your safety and your career at this establishment will be safe. I assume you can find your way out?"
"Yes, Monsieur."
"And I know I can be assured of your silence?"
"Of course, sir! Your presence is a fundamental part of this Opera! Without you, why, we'd simply seize to function as a company!"
"I've no use for your shallow lies; keep your knowledge to yourself, or else, you know what I am capable of."
"You needn't fear, sir. You have silence without threats."
"Very well; now, go!"
Having been given such a direct command, even Yulia wasn't fool enough to disobey.
Yulia spent that night slaving over a rebuttal to the Opera Ghost. The girl did not handle tension well, and being threatened with losing her job certainly did not bode well. Perhaps she should not have insinuated that Daaé was having an affair with the man, but her tactless nature and the fact that he not only had a two-way mirror, but a secret passage into Christine's dressing room as well, certainly left few assumptions for the casual viewer.
Finally, at three o'clock in the morning, Yulia was satisfied with the wording of her letter. It was actually a hidden apology for her behavior, but at quick glance, it would have looked defensive. She really didn't care how this Erik chose to view it.
Exhausted, Yulia crawled into her small bed and tried again to place together what she knew. A man named Erik was living within the Opera House pretending to be a ghost. Perhaps he was merely an eccentric. Granted, a violent eccentric, what with dropping chandeliers and all. However, he obviously had a small, albeit twisted, sense of humor; no humorless man would make a pompous diva croak like a toad! And then, of course, there was the connection to Daaé. That was what puzzled Yulia. Though he was clearly quite insane, he also had to be very clever to pull of the existence he led. The young woman sighed. And why was he concealing himself? And furthermore, why did she even care to begin with?
Because it was dangerous, and that made it exciting. Yulia suddenly became very disgusted with herself. She was pursuing a recluse, and making a fellow chorus member's life miserable, because she was bored with her dull and pessimistic existence.
Her eyes began to ache as she fought against tears; crying showed weakness. If she wanted to survive, if she wanted to gain stature, she could not be weak. And if she planned to deliver her letter tomorrow, she certainly could not have a faltering resolve.
The next day, when she was sure Christine had left for the day, Yulia calmly made her way into Christine's dressing room, which never seemed to be locked.
Having found the proper hidden switch on the mirror, Yulia took the lamp off of Christine's dressing table and defiantly made her way down the unknown passage to deliver her letter.
Noticing a distinct drop in temperature, Yulia became concerned as she pondered just how deep, and how far, this winding road would take her.
After nearly shattering her ankle twice, she ended up on the shore of a subterranean lake. Shivering slightly, she whispered, "M. Erik?"
Clearing her throat, she called, a bit louder, "M. Erik!"
Vexed at having received no reply, she explained her purpose, "Monsieur, I have a letter for you! Goddamn you, sir, answer me! I could've gotten killed walking through your little maze! M. Erik, will you please…Ah—!"
Yulia was suddenly swung hard from behind, and felt a noose tightening around her neck.
"Inquisitive little child, you are, Mademoiselle. Didn't I tell you I was working and did not wish be disturbed?" a voice hissed in her ear.
Yulia lost hold of her note, and sputter helplessly, "Read the…please! Air…"
He forcibly released her and she fell to the ground as he went to examine her letter. As the man read her note, Yulia was filled with mixed feelings of icy fear, respect, and awe. This phantom was tall, wore formal clothes, a flowing cloak, and a felt hat. Certainly not the ragged eccentric she had expected.
After several minutes, Yulia ventured, "Do you accept my apology, Monsieur?"
He turned to face her, and she was struck by the expressionlessness of his mask. "Yulia Alexandrovna Kazakova, I shall not accept your apology until you heed my wishes; you apology to Mlle. Daaé and hold your tongue around her. Then, you can rest assured that your safety and your career at this establishment will be safe. I assume you can find your way out?"
"Yes, Monsieur."
"And I know I can be assured of your silence?"
"Of course, sir! Your presence is a fundamental part of this Opera! Without you, why, we'd simply seize to function as a company!"
"I've no use for your shallow lies; keep your knowledge to yourself, or else, you know what I am capable of."
"You needn't fear, sir. You have silence without threats."
"Very well; now, go!"
Having been given such a direct command, even Yulia wasn't fool enough to disobey.