A/N: Let's see there's some Erik in this chapter! Does happy dance Well…we'll actually get to see him really in the next chapter! Sorry!
Chapter 4:
A Ghost?
It was later on of that same afternoon, and I was dashing through the immense costume racks in the Opera House, desperate to find clothes. I had figured that it was best that I complied with this O.G's demands, if only to ease my curiosity on the whole matter. I felt curiosity mixed with fear mingling in my stomach as I remembered the words of the letter – he was to come fetch his things in my room! But how…?
I panned eagerly through a line of finely tailored suits, mostly used for more formal productions. I had no idea what his size was, he hadn't bothered telling me that in his letter, but I had already formed a picture of what a Phantom would look like in my head. I had been lucky enough to interrogate some of the ballet members about the ghost's physical appearance and they had eagerly told me their stories about him.
I hadn't been too surprised with what I heard – though they were the best references I had. They had told me that he was hideous, with a horribly scarred face like death's head. He had little or no hair on his head, and had glowing gold eyes. He also had the body of a skeleton – or, as some of them described it – the body of a dead corpse.
So in my head I had formed an image of this Opera Ghost, O.G, and that is the reason why I picked out a smaller sized suit than some of the others that were on the rack. It was a beautiful overcoat, with a blood red colored waist band, with the same color red lining on the jacket. The suit was as black as night as were the pants that I had picked out for him also.
Though there also could be the fact that this O.G wasn't the Phantom.
I knew that there was one man in this theatre who knew who I really was, I had seen him that morning in the doorway, though I hadn't seen him since. I tried to keep my distance away from the stage hands, for they were foul, rotten men who spent most of their days drinking away on sour or stolen liquor. They reminded me so much of the jackals that had taken me to their own bed night after night.
Even in the warm, staleness of the room, I shivered. Every time the memory of what I had been aroused in my mind, the horrifying, vivid pictures of those men and what they had done to me played out in front of my eyes.
Though as quickly as the putrid thought entered my mind, I pushed it back into the dark corners from which it had come from. I would not remember that life, for I was not the same girl that had come here a few weeks before! I was changed, a new person, my life was new here inside the opera house, for I was sheltered from the outside world. Its cruelties could not touch me inside of these stone walls.
I pushed all of those thoughts out of my head and returned to the present situation that I was in. Meg had assured me that the ghost was dead or long gone and I believed her – though there was so much mystery surrounding this whole story, this whole Opera House, that who knows who you could trust?
It came down to the story of Meg Giry or the young girls of the Corps de Ballet.
I really hoped that Meg's story was right.
With the clothes in hand I carefully treaded my way back to my room, not wanting to get lost like I had earlier in the day. I carefully unlocked the door and placed the clothes on the chair near the mirror, along with a wrapped loaf of bread and some other food that I had not eaten, and several long candles that I had nicked from a supply closet in the Opera.
I glanced at my pocket watch that I kept on the table, it was about seven in the evening, the letter had instructed that he would come in the evening, so I sat and waited, my hand drumming absent-mindedly on the arm of the large overstuffed chair that I was sitting in.
And waited as the clock ticked on.
And waited.
The candles began burning low, their flames beginning to dwindle into darkness and there was no sign yet of the mysterious letter writer.
Eventually a clock somewhere in the building chimed midnight and I sat in my chair exhausted. My eyes felt heavy with sleep and were threatening to close. My head lulled back against the back of the chair…and slowly my eyes closed and I drifted off into the blissful world of sleep.
When I awoke in the morning, I jolted out of the chair, my clothes tangled and wrinkled and my hair a mess. I immediately threw a glance down at the chair beside me; it was empty of all of its contents!
My mind reeled.
My door had been locked all night! How had someone gotten into my room – without me knowing or without any noise whatsoever? How had he not disturbed my sleep, to take the items would mean that they were only mere inches away from my face. How could they do this without waking me, who generally slept very light, was what truly made the mystery.
Though in place of the clothes, food, and candles was a letter, sealed with the strange skull. It read:
Dear Cara,
Thank you so very much for the clothing, the food, and the candles, getting them for me was much appreciated.
I have decided now that I can trust you to fulfill any of my needs, so I have included a small list of items that I am in dire need of, more so than the things that you delivered to me last night.
Please have them here in the room by midnight tonight; I shall be waiting for you,
Your servant,
O.G
It was then that I noticed that beneath the letter was a blood red rose that had unfurled to its full splendor. It had been dethorned and around its stem was a single black ribbon tied in a bow.
Inside of the ribbon was tucked a small wrote, written in the same sprawling handwriting that the letter had been written in. It read:
Do not be discouraged by your physical appearance, it is what is inside of you that matters.
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Erik in the next chapter!
