A/N: Wow!!! I don't know how I made it onto so many people's favorites
lists with this little ole story!! Thank you all so much. This ought to
be the last, or second to last chapter. I'd never intended to write a
second one, but it looks like I did! (lol) Thank you so very much, you
guys! I hope to see more posts from you guys here on ff.net as well.
To those who likes "The Lyre" . . . although I can promise no ending, I gave chicketieboo permission to post it on her website, which you can get to through her ff.net profile. She said it should be up in a week or so.
......
Stepping into the darkness, Rosemarie made certain to take the lantern with her, even the glass surrounding the potentially dangerous flame was becoming blackened from smoke. The room she entered first was dusty and full of cobwebs. All of the carpets, furniture, paintings, and wallpaper, were decayed from over a century of being forgotten about. Yet she wasn't after the artifacts inside the lair of 'the Phantom'. She felt as though some invisible hand were pulling her onward to a certain area of the hidden rooms, almost as though she'd been there before. After halting in her hesitant steps to recover from a sneezing fit the dust caused, she turned to look back towards the doorway she'd come through.
"Erik?" She called uncertainly. Immediately, his silhouette appeared in the space just outside the door.
"Rose?" He replied simply, his tone curious. His hands leaned against the stony frame of the door, yet he made certain to stay completely outside.
"Nothing." She finally replied, turning to go further into the room. At least she knew he was still there. Covering her mouth and nose with her hand to keep as much dust as possible from causing another sneezing fit, she dared to step around a chair and towards a strange door that stood wide open against one wall. Amazingly enough (even to those who had read about it in books) the door was made from a part of the wall. Obviously it was meant to be a secret passage.
Without going inside, she knew what room it was. Turning a second time, she saw Erik watching her with his keen, and surprisingly, anxious blue eyes. The ruffles of his sleeves hung down on either side of him, hands pressed firmly against the stone frame he stood behind. He gave her a slight encouraging nod, and she smiled weakly, turning to step into the other room as he disappeared from view.
The bedroom was still recognizable, but just as decayed as the other room. Once fine material, and expensive woods had rotted away. Still, on the collapsed bed lay a figure tangled under decayed blankets. She recognized the black peeking out from under it. For a moment Rosemarie didn't want to go forward. The air was stale and hard to breathe. The quietness of the place unnerved her to no end. Yet she had to see the object on the bed up close.
"Erik . . ." She whispered, reached out to peel back a strip of blanket remaining draped over the black object. The fabric turned to dust in her hands, yet the thing underneath remained quite solid. For a split second, and a split second alone, she nearly screamed.
A skeleton. A skeleton that wore a black mask!
"Erik!" She did scream then, but not from fear. She put the lantern down carefully, so as not to drop it and have it explode on her. Both hands flew to her face, and she felt her body shaking uncontrollably. She shook her head in denial, not wanting to look up again. Again, however, it felt as though something were making her.
After several minutes of just standing there, shaking and weeping, she reached out with both hands to tear the black mask from the skull on the bed. There was an ugly snapping sound, and the skull fell away from the neck of the rest of the skeleton. None-the-less, she could almost see the flash of an image before her. In the place of the skeleton, or rather overlapping the skeleton was the fully 'formed' man that Erik had once been; skin, and bones, and muscle, and blood, even if his face was still deformed.
"Thank you . . ." A voice crooned gently into her ear, a moment before the image vanished. Rosemarie threw the mask in her hand across the room, not wanting to feel it in her hand. Then, she whirled away from the bed, picking up the lantern and stumbling out into the front room. Sobbing, she collapsed onto the floor, which sent the carpet of dust flying all about her, sending her into a coughing fit. That only made it more difficult to breathe.
"Erik!" She pleaded, unable to move, not sure she wanted to while she cried. "Erik! Erik!"
..............
When she finally emerged from the lair, stepping over the low stonewall she'd knocked almost completely down earlier, she stared around her. Sure enough, Erik was gone. At least, she couldn't see him there. She wiped at her red, swollen eyes, and moved towards the boat he'd used to take her across the lake. She didn't want to go back across alone. She didn't want to leave.
"Night time sharpens . . ." She began to sing quietly, just standing there, stalling for time. Then, finally, she turned to look back at the lair. For a moment, it seemed a shadow stood just beyond the light, a darker blackness against the rest of the shadows. It tricked her long enough so that she started heading back towards the lair quickly.
The rock wall, which had supported itself over and around her self made doorway chose that moment to collapse. The lantern fell to the ground, exploding momentarily in blinding light, and then sputtering until blackness surrounded her again. Not that she would have been able to see had the light not gone out. There was complete and utter silence in the whole underground lake. The black waters were completely still, not a flicker of a ripple throughout the whole glassy surface.
To those who likes "The Lyre" . . . although I can promise no ending, I gave chicketieboo permission to post it on her website, which you can get to through her ff.net profile. She said it should be up in a week or so.
......
Stepping into the darkness, Rosemarie made certain to take the lantern with her, even the glass surrounding the potentially dangerous flame was becoming blackened from smoke. The room she entered first was dusty and full of cobwebs. All of the carpets, furniture, paintings, and wallpaper, were decayed from over a century of being forgotten about. Yet she wasn't after the artifacts inside the lair of 'the Phantom'. She felt as though some invisible hand were pulling her onward to a certain area of the hidden rooms, almost as though she'd been there before. After halting in her hesitant steps to recover from a sneezing fit the dust caused, she turned to look back towards the doorway she'd come through.
"Erik?" She called uncertainly. Immediately, his silhouette appeared in the space just outside the door.
"Rose?" He replied simply, his tone curious. His hands leaned against the stony frame of the door, yet he made certain to stay completely outside.
"Nothing." She finally replied, turning to go further into the room. At least she knew he was still there. Covering her mouth and nose with her hand to keep as much dust as possible from causing another sneezing fit, she dared to step around a chair and towards a strange door that stood wide open against one wall. Amazingly enough (even to those who had read about it in books) the door was made from a part of the wall. Obviously it was meant to be a secret passage.
Without going inside, she knew what room it was. Turning a second time, she saw Erik watching her with his keen, and surprisingly, anxious blue eyes. The ruffles of his sleeves hung down on either side of him, hands pressed firmly against the stone frame he stood behind. He gave her a slight encouraging nod, and she smiled weakly, turning to step into the other room as he disappeared from view.
The bedroom was still recognizable, but just as decayed as the other room. Once fine material, and expensive woods had rotted away. Still, on the collapsed bed lay a figure tangled under decayed blankets. She recognized the black peeking out from under it. For a moment Rosemarie didn't want to go forward. The air was stale and hard to breathe. The quietness of the place unnerved her to no end. Yet she had to see the object on the bed up close.
"Erik . . ." She whispered, reached out to peel back a strip of blanket remaining draped over the black object. The fabric turned to dust in her hands, yet the thing underneath remained quite solid. For a split second, and a split second alone, she nearly screamed.
A skeleton. A skeleton that wore a black mask!
"Erik!" She did scream then, but not from fear. She put the lantern down carefully, so as not to drop it and have it explode on her. Both hands flew to her face, and she felt her body shaking uncontrollably. She shook her head in denial, not wanting to look up again. Again, however, it felt as though something were making her.
After several minutes of just standing there, shaking and weeping, she reached out with both hands to tear the black mask from the skull on the bed. There was an ugly snapping sound, and the skull fell away from the neck of the rest of the skeleton. None-the-less, she could almost see the flash of an image before her. In the place of the skeleton, or rather overlapping the skeleton was the fully 'formed' man that Erik had once been; skin, and bones, and muscle, and blood, even if his face was still deformed.
"Thank you . . ." A voice crooned gently into her ear, a moment before the image vanished. Rosemarie threw the mask in her hand across the room, not wanting to feel it in her hand. Then, she whirled away from the bed, picking up the lantern and stumbling out into the front room. Sobbing, she collapsed onto the floor, which sent the carpet of dust flying all about her, sending her into a coughing fit. That only made it more difficult to breathe.
"Erik!" She pleaded, unable to move, not sure she wanted to while she cried. "Erik! Erik!"
..............
When she finally emerged from the lair, stepping over the low stonewall she'd knocked almost completely down earlier, she stared around her. Sure enough, Erik was gone. At least, she couldn't see him there. She wiped at her red, swollen eyes, and moved towards the boat he'd used to take her across the lake. She didn't want to go back across alone. She didn't want to leave.
"Night time sharpens . . ." She began to sing quietly, just standing there, stalling for time. Then, finally, she turned to look back at the lair. For a moment, it seemed a shadow stood just beyond the light, a darker blackness against the rest of the shadows. It tricked her long enough so that she started heading back towards the lair quickly.
The rock wall, which had supported itself over and around her self made doorway chose that moment to collapse. The lantern fell to the ground, exploding momentarily in blinding light, and then sputtering until blackness surrounded her again. Not that she would have been able to see had the light not gone out. There was complete and utter silence in the whole underground lake. The black waters were completely still, not a flicker of a ripple throughout the whole glassy surface.