The Angel and The Phantom
Chapter Two: The Descent
Belle
As I made my way through the dark cobblestone streets, I cursed myself for making such a rash decision, since I had really no idea where I was going. I had only visited the opera a few times in my life when my sisters had insisted I come to look for men. I however preferred to listen to the music. But after the tragedy of the crashing chandelier and the mysterious disappearance of a young soprano, my family had avoided coming to the opera, and that was a pity.
But better me going there now, instead of my father. I finally saw the façade of the opera glowing in the moonlight. I felt the stares of the faces and statues bearing down on me. I glanced up into the gazes of both gods and gargoyles. With my thin nerves and the cold chill of the night suffocating me, they almost seemed alive in the darkness. I felt like a sinner going to my last confession. I slowly mounted the steps as another obstacle came into view. The large door, which was most certainly locked at this time at night.
Part of me wanted to turn around, leave this nightmare behind. I could go home and forget all this. If Papa was so sure this man was going to kill us, we could all leave, get out of Paris. There was more work in the country anyway. However I wanted to confront this man, show him that at least I was civilized even if he wasn't. He didn't have the right to bully people around. I wanted to do was what my mother would have done. Papa said I always had her spirit, so hopefully my convictions would be strong enough to pull me through this.
In vain, I put my hand on the door handle and to my surprise it swung open with a loud creak. I jumped back startled but stepped inside anyway. The beauty of the grand foyer was like none I had seen before. Yes the houses and chateaus I had visited no doubt spent more money on their furnishing and decorations but they all appeared so tacky compare to this. The stonework was so exquisite of the decorative carvings of human figures and especially the sculptures of the flowers looked like the mason had captured the Garden of Eden in marble. The floor was a mixture of light and black marble, which glisten like onyx. I could even see myself in the tiles and couldn't resist bending down and examined my reflection more carefully. But out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of a black figure flying across the distorted marble view.
"Marvelous, isn't it?" a cold cynical voice inquired. I jumped up almost losing my balance. I dropped my bag and my shawl fell off my shoulders. With that, I could feel an icy chill pass through me. I dared to life my eyes up to the stairs where the voice was coming from.
If the figure standing on the platform had caused the chill to go through me by just his presence, I would not have been surprised. The man seemed to be made of darkness. He was indeed very tall and all dressed in black, with a flowing black cape and wide brim hat. Over his face was a white leather mask, which puzzled me, and underneath the mask a set of glowing eyes. Again I felt that strange shiver around me. Who was this man?
"The architecture." He stated waiting for an answer. I had almost forgotten his earlier comment so impressed and frighten I was. He seemed in his few words and brief presence, that he already had a commanding power over me."
"Oh yes, the stonework is… I have never seen such beauty. "I replied.
"Nor have I." He descended down the stairs, his black cape billowing about his ankles