Okay people, THIRD chapter up of the night, watch out. Ha ha ha. Go on and read it, go on, go, on. The author loves her reviewers! (Though she fears you are only using her to get your cookies...)
"Elsa, I need to go out into the city tonight. Are you all right with staying here?" Erik asked, draping a coat over his shoulders and taking up his hat.
"Out into Paris? Are you sure you want to go? Can't I just go for you in the morning?" she asked. Why would Erik want to go outside?
"No, I'll go out tonight. Sensitive eyes you know," he winked.
"Well, can't I go with you then?" she asked. More like border-line pleaded, but we'll say "asked."
"No, no, no," Erik laughed. "You can't come, or you'll see what I'm getting for you! Oops," he said, covering his mouth with his hat. "You didn't just hear that..."
Elsa looked at him suspiciously. "What are you doing?" she asked, an eyebrow raised.
"Nothing, nothing, mon ange," he said, kissing the top of her head before turning for his gondola. "It is your birthday, isn't it?"
She sighed and said, "All right, be that way, Phantom. I'll be here. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting," she said dramatically.
"I'm sure you will be!" he called. And then he was gone.
"Dammit!" Elsa cursed. "I'm alone now. On my birthday." She looked at the piano. "With a piano!" She looked under the piano and her depressed mood faded away. "And a violin! Yay!"
She carefully took out the instrument from it's velvet case, rosined the bow, and made sure it was tuned, then commenced
She played "The Music of the Night" on his violin, still waiting for him to return a few hours later. It was amazing hoe long she could keep going with violin; she loved it so much. And she was so enthralled by her piece at the moment, she didn't realize anyone slipping into the lair from one of the back entrances...
As she reached a crescendo, she closed her eyes, thinking about nothing else except the correct notes.
E4, E4, E4, E, E2, E, C, E, C-
She heard a soft click behind her and whipped around. Her eyes widened with surprise as she looked down the barrel of a gun. Holding it was a man wrapped in a dark cloak and hood that covered his face.
"Up," he commanded. "Drop it," he said, pointing the gun at the violin.
She slowly placed the instrument and bow on top of the piano and got to her feet, not taking her eyes off the cloaked stranger in front of her.
"Don't move," he growled, drawing pen and paper from his cloak.
"Who are you?" she demanded.
He chuckled. "My name is useless information to you. Just address me as Monsieur," he said, jotting down a few words on the slip of parchment.
Elsa slowly, slowly backed up, away from him. There was a secret door in her room somewhere. If only she could get there without him noticing...But she would have to make it up the steps first.
If he wants me to go with him, he won't shoot, she thought. But if he just wants me dead...that would be another matter.
Up one step, then another, and another-
"You don't expect to make it all the way to your room without my noticing?" he said grimly, his back still turned to her.
She took this as her cue to run. She bolted up the rest of stone steps and into her room, trying to remember where the blasted door was!
Damn Erik for being so good at hiding things! she cursed.
He was soon in the room behind her, draping the curtains closed behind him.
"Non, Mademoiselle. There's no point in this," he said.
"What do you want with me?" she asked, still looking for the door out of the corner of her eye.
"You are going to help me kill Erik," he said simply, making his way towards her.
"So Danielle was right?" she thought out loud. "You're the one who's after him? And after Paris?"
He laughed coldly. "Yes, I am Celui, The One, who Danielle told you about. The one Gaston told her about!" he laughed again, shrilly. "Have you guessed yet, Elsa?" he asked, then threw off his hood. "I am Gaston!" he laughed, grabbing her arm tightly and twisting it around behind her so she was forced to turn around, wincing in pain. He held his other hand to her neck, threatening to choke the life out of her.
"I knew it!" she strained against his tight grip. "Why did Danielle trust you?"
"I kissed her!" he explained, laughing like a madman. "And she fell for everything!"
Elsa continued struggling with him but, like Danielle had mentioned before, he was strong.
"Give it up, Mademoiselle," he said, slapping her hard across the face with his pistol.
She shook her ringing head and tried to see straight, but he choked her until she was barely able to move or breathe, much less continue to fight him off.
"Before we go," he said, throwing her against the bed, knowing she hadn't the strength to go anywhere, "let's do some redecorating," he smirked and ran his hand down a panel of curtains, tearing them quickly to the ground.
Elsa swallowed with difficulty and thought painfully, Not again..."So it was you the first time, too?" She struggled the sentence.
"Of course it was," he said, tipping over the furniture and throwing pillows around.
When he was satisfied with his destruction, he tossed the note he had previously written on the bed, grabbed Elsa by the wrist and dragged her out of the room, out of Erik's underground home, and out into the darkness of the city, where he would be hidden until next time-Until the right time to strike again, and finish his plan of conquest.
Erik sensed something as he walked back towards the Opera Populaire late that night. Something wasn't right...
His first reaction: Elsa. His second reaction: The opera house. The two thoughts together made his stomach flip with fear, and he quickened his pace, tipping his hat lower across his face and mask, hiding himself from the few passer-by's on the Parisian boulevards.
Another sharp pang in his chest, and he wrapped his cloak tightly around him, gripped his brown paper packages tightly,and set off at a run. He was running back to his home, back to Elsa.
There wasn't anything wrong. He would get out of the gondola to see Elsa sitting at the piano bench playing the violin...Waiting for him...
"Elsa?" Erik yelled, hastily climbing out of the gondola, not bothering to take up the packages and leaving them there.He splashed through the shallow lake and ran up to her room."Elsa? No..."
Her room had been thrown into disarray again. But this time, a note was laid on the undone bed, on top of the tangled sheets.
"I have her, Phantom of the Opera. And you won't get her back until I get the Opera Populaire. Further arrangements will be made soon. Good night."
Erik crumpled the paper in his hand and shoved it in his vest pocket, storming out of the room. Knocking over a candelabra, he began to feel his heart weigh heavily in his chest. Another woman he cared for gone, right out from under him. This time he wouldn't lose her. He'd get Elsa back. Even if it meant giving up the opera house, his home, his life...
Right now, though, he was on his way to the de Chagny's mansion, a few blocks away from the Opera Populaire.
Gosh darn it, I've been kidnapped. And yes, you were all right. Gaston is the bad guy. My story is such a cliche! I love it! And you all do too! Or you wouldn't be off reviewing RIGHT NOW :hint:hint: