Note: Thanks to the two of you who reviewed, I feel very special. :) I'm very very sorry if the layout turns out screwy, I'm on vacation and on my grandparents' computer, which is painfully screwed up. I will be fixing it as soon as I get home (then again, if it's fine, disregard all this). As always, please review!
She gasped, incredulous.
"This isn't happening," She thought, numb. "What have I fallen into?"
The man continued to stand, seemingly unsurprised at her dumbstruck reaction. She swallowed convulsively and blinked several times. He was still there, the passageway still gleamed with ancient stone.
"Who are you?" She demanded, determined to not be intimidated by this obviously eccentric and possibly dangerous person.
"I daresay you know," the man replied evenly.
"I know who you are dressed as," she replied warily.
And she did. He stood slightly less than six feet tall, and was dressed all in black. The more she looked at him, she realized that his dress was severely outdated by one hundred years or more, right down to the formerly fashionable black dress cloak. His arms were crossed leisurely across his chest and she noted the gracefully long fingers he possessed.
The real shock came when she looked up at his face. Unlike the more popular conception, this man wore a pure black full mask over his face, through which his eyes could be seen. They were amber yellow, eerily reflected in the flickering candlelight. At first she was sure that they were contact lenses, but they were too purely defined for even the most expensive pair.
"So that's just a weird coincidence," she sternly told herself. "What are you thinking, anyway?"
"I am who I appear to be, mlle."
She was angry now. She didn't know who this person was or what he hoped to accomplish, but she had been too long a phan to tolerate this apparent exploitation of her feelings.
"I fail to see, sir, what you hope to achieve. You would certainly be dead if you truly were, but," she faltered with the pain she always felt with this admission, "Erik never existed."
"You shall see," he said, softly. "Get the candles, please." He nodded towards the flickering tapers.
Against her better judgement she turned and picked up the two candles from the vanity table where they reposed, then returned to her former standing position at the threshold of the passageway.
"Come," he said, beckoning with one long-fingered hand. Something indefinite was tugging at her senses, and she felt she had no option but to follow this strangely compelling masked man.
She gasped, incredulous.
"This isn't happening," She thought, numb. "What have I fallen into?"
The man continued to stand, seemingly unsurprised at her dumbstruck reaction. She swallowed convulsively and blinked several times. He was still there, the passageway still gleamed with ancient stone.
"Who are you?" She demanded, determined to not be intimidated by this obviously eccentric and possibly dangerous person.
"I daresay you know," the man replied evenly.
"I know who you are dressed as," she replied warily.
And she did. He stood slightly less than six feet tall, and was dressed all in black. The more she looked at him, she realized that his dress was severely outdated by one hundred years or more, right down to the formerly fashionable black dress cloak. His arms were crossed leisurely across his chest and she noted the gracefully long fingers he possessed.
The real shock came when she looked up at his face. Unlike the more popular conception, this man wore a pure black full mask over his face, through which his eyes could be seen. They were amber yellow, eerily reflected in the flickering candlelight. At first she was sure that they were contact lenses, but they were too purely defined for even the most expensive pair.
"So that's just a weird coincidence," she sternly told herself. "What are you thinking, anyway?"
"I am who I appear to be, mlle."
She was angry now. She didn't know who this person was or what he hoped to accomplish, but she had been too long a phan to tolerate this apparent exploitation of her feelings.
"I fail to see, sir, what you hope to achieve. You would certainly be dead if you truly were, but," she faltered with the pain she always felt with this admission, "Erik never existed."
"You shall see," he said, softly. "Get the candles, please." He nodded towards the flickering tapers.
Against her better judgement she turned and picked up the two candles from the vanity table where they reposed, then returned to her former standing position at the threshold of the passageway.
"Come," he said, beckoning with one long-fingered hand. Something indefinite was tugging at her senses, and she felt she had no option but to follow this strangely compelling masked man.