Part of the wall swung inward almost noiselessly. In that moment she felt the boundaries of what she'd come to know as reality melt away, for what she now saw could not be dismissed as anything but what it was- the lair of the Phantom.
"Oh", she gasped, feeling faint. The room she was facing was elegantly furnished and full of priceless antiques (though, she reflected dizzily, they were probably new when first placed there). Mahogany with accents of dark velvets and brocades seemed to be the main theme, something that would have tickled her fancy anywhere. He gave a small bow, almost mocking.
"Welcome to my home. As you must already know, I," and here he paused for a fraction of a second, "am Erik". Flashes of memory played before her eyes of the book, movies, and stage plays. When was the last time he had brought someone here and revealed his name? "...I am not an angel, nor a genius, nor a ghost...I am Erik..." And yet the man himself did not seem disturbed by any mental comparison.
"Well, I always have been oversensitive," she thought, feeling rather giddy. She looked up into his masked face and met his eyes.
"So its true," She leaned against the wall, stunned, "All of it".
She was seized with a sudden pain of emotion. Christine, the vapid Raoul, his loveless life. She had shed many tears for the fictional Erik, but how could one react to the inscrutable figure before her?
"With some minor alterations". His voice was carefully neutral.
"How is it, I mean, how can you be..." she trailed off, embarrassed.
"Why am I not dead, you mean?" She nodded mutely.
"Rather a complex device of my own design."
"Care to elucidate?"
"A blend of certain chemicals inhaled in an airtight box produces a state of suspended animation for a defined period of time."
She widened her eyes, fascinated. "With no negative effects on the nervous system?"
If he was surprised at the change in feminine education, to his credit he gave no outward sign of it. "None."
"Incredible." She gazed about briefly in wonder. "What about the furniture?"
"Now that, he said, is something else altogether. There will be time for that later, mademoiselle…"
"Gwyndolyn. Lee. Gwyndolyn Lee."
"If you'd care to have a seat, Mlle. Gwyndolyn", she interrupted,
"Just Gwyndolyn is fine", and he nodded in acknowledgment,
"I shall enlighten you as to your purpose here." She felt mildly indignant but resolved to say nothing.
"I have been, for lack of a better term, asleep since 1890." She nodded as he sat on an armchair, crossed his legs leisurely, and folded his arms across his chest. She also took a seat, but did not relax. A million things were going through her mind, not the least of which was "ohmygod, I'm hanging out with ERIK", but she endeavored to look attentive.
"I require someone to inform me of the various changes that have taken place during the last 112 years. Regrettably, you will have to stay in my home for an indefinite period, but, he looked away, focusing on something unseen, even monsters are not always odious."
"What?" She nearly shouted.
"Rest assured, I am harmless." He said, no longer strong and confident, his tone was gloomy and resigned. This was the reaction he had anticipated. Horror from the unsuspecting female. Perhaps he would have done better getting his information in some other fashion.
She had gotten up, was standing in front of him. He could tell she was angry, but not for the reason he suspected.
"What did you say?" Before he could reply she was demanding an answer from him again. "What did you call yourself?"
Really, what was this all about? She had obviously read the book, she knew what he was. This girl hadn't seemed of a cruel nature but she was demanding he repeat what was so hard to say.
"A monster!" He spat venomously. His legs uncrossed and he seemed ready to spring from the chair, fingers clutching at the rests. "A hideous murderer, abductor of innocent singers! Is that what you wanted confirmed?"
She fell to her knees in front of him, crying. Now what?
"That's what you truly believe? I've prayed for so long that you, even when I thought you'd never existed, did not believe this. My god, the misery you must endure! So few people believe that you did not deserve all the happiness denied you. How many, like me, have yearned to tell you so?" she paused, "I'm sorry", she sighed. "I seem to have taken a melodramatic turn." She rose and wiped at her eyes.
Erik decided to say nothing, but was stunned at what he'd heard. Gwyndolyn was turning out to be a rather interesting young woman indeed.
~*~Author's Note: Woo, two in one day. Not going to school does a lot for the creative juices, I 'spose. I sincerely hope this chapter doesn't suck...yes, I am trying to be at least vaguely funny. If you don't like anything, read and review 'cause that's the only way I'll ever learn! (BTW...is it just me or is my Erik acting like Hannibal Lecter? *shrugs* I learn as I go.)
"Oh", she gasped, feeling faint. The room she was facing was elegantly furnished and full of priceless antiques (though, she reflected dizzily, they were probably new when first placed there). Mahogany with accents of dark velvets and brocades seemed to be the main theme, something that would have tickled her fancy anywhere. He gave a small bow, almost mocking.
"Welcome to my home. As you must already know, I," and here he paused for a fraction of a second, "am Erik". Flashes of memory played before her eyes of the book, movies, and stage plays. When was the last time he had brought someone here and revealed his name? "...I am not an angel, nor a genius, nor a ghost...I am Erik..." And yet the man himself did not seem disturbed by any mental comparison.
"Well, I always have been oversensitive," she thought, feeling rather giddy. She looked up into his masked face and met his eyes.
"So its true," She leaned against the wall, stunned, "All of it".
She was seized with a sudden pain of emotion. Christine, the vapid Raoul, his loveless life. She had shed many tears for the fictional Erik, but how could one react to the inscrutable figure before her?
"With some minor alterations". His voice was carefully neutral.
"How is it, I mean, how can you be..." she trailed off, embarrassed.
"Why am I not dead, you mean?" She nodded mutely.
"Rather a complex device of my own design."
"Care to elucidate?"
"A blend of certain chemicals inhaled in an airtight box produces a state of suspended animation for a defined period of time."
She widened her eyes, fascinated. "With no negative effects on the nervous system?"
If he was surprised at the change in feminine education, to his credit he gave no outward sign of it. "None."
"Incredible." She gazed about briefly in wonder. "What about the furniture?"
"Now that, he said, is something else altogether. There will be time for that later, mademoiselle…"
"Gwyndolyn. Lee. Gwyndolyn Lee."
"If you'd care to have a seat, Mlle. Gwyndolyn", she interrupted,
"Just Gwyndolyn is fine", and he nodded in acknowledgment,
"I shall enlighten you as to your purpose here." She felt mildly indignant but resolved to say nothing.
"I have been, for lack of a better term, asleep since 1890." She nodded as he sat on an armchair, crossed his legs leisurely, and folded his arms across his chest. She also took a seat, but did not relax. A million things were going through her mind, not the least of which was "ohmygod, I'm hanging out with ERIK", but she endeavored to look attentive.
"I require someone to inform me of the various changes that have taken place during the last 112 years. Regrettably, you will have to stay in my home for an indefinite period, but, he looked away, focusing on something unseen, even monsters are not always odious."
"What?" She nearly shouted.
"Rest assured, I am harmless." He said, no longer strong and confident, his tone was gloomy and resigned. This was the reaction he had anticipated. Horror from the unsuspecting female. Perhaps he would have done better getting his information in some other fashion.
She had gotten up, was standing in front of him. He could tell she was angry, but not for the reason he suspected.
"What did you say?" Before he could reply she was demanding an answer from him again. "What did you call yourself?"
Really, what was this all about? She had obviously read the book, she knew what he was. This girl hadn't seemed of a cruel nature but she was demanding he repeat what was so hard to say.
"A monster!" He spat venomously. His legs uncrossed and he seemed ready to spring from the chair, fingers clutching at the rests. "A hideous murderer, abductor of innocent singers! Is that what you wanted confirmed?"
She fell to her knees in front of him, crying. Now what?
"That's what you truly believe? I've prayed for so long that you, even when I thought you'd never existed, did not believe this. My god, the misery you must endure! So few people believe that you did not deserve all the happiness denied you. How many, like me, have yearned to tell you so?" she paused, "I'm sorry", she sighed. "I seem to have taken a melodramatic turn." She rose and wiped at her eyes.
Erik decided to say nothing, but was stunned at what he'd heard. Gwyndolyn was turning out to be a rather interesting young woman indeed.
~*~Author's Note: Woo, two in one day. Not going to school does a lot for the creative juices, I 'spose. I sincerely hope this chapter doesn't suck...yes, I am trying to be at least vaguely funny. If you don't like anything, read and review 'cause that's the only way I'll ever learn! (BTW...is it just me or is my Erik acting like Hannibal Lecter? *shrugs* I learn as I go.)