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Ella was surprised; the passage behind the mirror was not as dark as she had expected it to be. Candle holders lined the walls for as far as she could see, still she was frightened. She could not see any sign of Christine or the Phantom.

Stay calm, Ella she told herself. They can't have gone far…there's only one way to go!

Quickly she made her way down the passage, not looking back once. She came to a flight of stone steps and thought she could hear voices in the distance. She could only see a few stairs-worth down; beyond that it was dark. She strained to hear. It was Christine's voice…Christine's and the Phantom's. Don't be a coward! She scolded herself. Christine was down there with that man, doing who knows what! Still, she had to get one deep breath to calm herself before she descended into the darkness. Once she down the stairs she continued on further into the darkness, listening. With each step she could hear the voices clearer.

Finally the darkness seemed to fade a bit; she could see light off in the distance. She let out a small gasp. She stood on the banks of an underground lake, mist swirling off the water like ghostly ballerinas. And at the far end, overflowing with candle light and music, was the Phantom's underground lair, separated from the bank and Ella by an iron portcullis that descended from the stone archway entrance. Ella could see no bridge that connected from the arch to the bank, so how had they crossed the lake? A boat perhaps? Well it wasn't there now, so she had no way to get across except….Ella stared at the blue-green water. No…

The voices from behind the iron gate had faded a bit. She could not see them clearly enough. She looked at the water again. Oh, drat! She waded, as silent as she could, into the lake. The lake was only up to her knees, but as she began to wade further in, it rose to her waist. The water was warmer than she thought it would be. If she wasn't scared out of her wits beyond consolation it might have relaxed her. She had always been a good swimmer, spending all those summers by the sea. She wasn't afraid of drowning….at least she thought so.

It's fine, Ella. You're doing fine.

Then the bottom of the lake fell out. Ella tried to scream, but water flooded into her mouth. She flayed her arms and legs frantically, praying for air. Finally she broke the surface, and bobbed on the water for a few moments. She looked around and noticed she was only a few breaststrokes from the iron gate. She could hear the voices more clearly…no voice. It was just one; a male.

Slowly, gently
Night unfurls its splendor.
Grasp it, sense it,
Tremulous and tender.

Ella swam the few meters and locked her hands through the portcullis, pulling herself up. She shivered, not from coldness, but from the voice. She could now see the singer clearly; the left side of his face, the unmasked part. The beauty of the face struck her like an iron brand; she almost slid fully back into the water. His hair was as dark as a starless night and it rested gently above the collar of his shirt. She could not tell the exact color of his eyes. One moment they appeared a crystal-bright blue, the next green. She only knew that they were the most intense and solemn eyes she had ever seen.

Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dream!
Leave the thoughts of life you knew before!
close your eyes and let your spirit start to soar
and you'll live, as you've never lived before.

Though the song was for Christine alone, Ella found herself closing her own eyes, losing her self in the passion of the song. When she opened them again there were tears in her eyes.

Floating, falling
Sweet intoxication,
Touch me, trust me
Savor each sensation

As she watched the Phantom go to Christine, watched him guide her hand to his face, watch him caress her, Ella for the first time in her life was truly jealous of her older sister. Even with everything else, their father shunning Ella and embracing Christine, after Raoul doing the same with his whole heart, not realizing what pain it gave Ella, after all that, Ella still loved Christine as much as ever. She never begrudged her the love her sister rightly deserved; Christine was sunlight and spring, Ella was dusk and shadows. But now….That voice! Those hands!

The Phantom was a man! A real flesh and blood man, just as she had always suspected. And he loved Christine, just like everyone else; there could be no doubt of that. Ella did not know why this made her so jealous of her sister. She did not know the man! She was in love with Raoul, for goodness sakes! Yet the Phantom's voice did something to her, as did the fact that his voice was supposed to be heard only by Christine. Ella felt sick. I must get out of here! She pushed away from the gate and swam back toward the banks of the lake. Christine could take care of herself.

Ella made her way, dripping and in a daze, back up the stone stairs and into the passage leading to Carlotta's dressing room. In her haze she did not notice the figure coming up before her, backward, until it smacked into her.

"Ufh!" it cried, and Ella fell back against the stone wall. "Oh! Ella!" It was Meg. Little Giry placed her hands on Ella's wet forearms. "Where is Christine? And what happened to you?" Ella tried to speak, but found she was without words. Her! Without words? Some writer she was. Meg felt that her friend was shivering and thought it was from the coldness of being wet, not knowing the things Ella had heard and seen. Neither heard a third figure approach.

Madame Giry placed her hand on her daughter's shoulder, who jumped.

"Mes petites!" she dragged them back towards the open mirror. "What are you doing? Don't you know the danger…What happened to you, Estella?"

"Christine is gone!" Meg said in a way of excuse as she watched her Mama close the mirror.

"I know, as do the managers. The new patron, Vicomte de Chagney alerted them. It shall be in all the papers by morning I dare say." Madame Giry took a cloak off a nearby chair and draped it around Ella's shoulders. "Go on out, ma petite," she instructed her daughter. Meg looked like she wanted to protest, but her mother gave her a stern look and she obliged. Madame Giry turned back to Ella. "What happened to you my dear?...What did you see? What did you hear?"

Ella looked at Madame Giry with eyes that were blank and cold. "Nothing," she replied. "I woke up alone and saw the mirror open like that. I went through it a ways, but I could not see and slipped in a puddle of water. I was frightened so I came back, and you and Meg found me." Madame Giry just stared into her eyes for a silent moment. She knew Ella was lying, but obviously the girl would not speak the truth…to anyone. That was good enough.

"Come my dear, you must change before you catch your death. I shall put you in a private room tonight, so you may rest easier and not have to deal with the other girl's questions."

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"Ella!...Ella!" a voice woke her from her dreamless sleep. It was Meg Giry again. "Christine is back!" Ella shot up and saw it was true; Madame Giry was leading a pale and sobbing Christine into the room. Madame put her in the bed.

"She needs rest. You both do I think. I shall see that no one bothers you."

And with that Madame Giry and Meg left the two sisters alone in the room. Christine was lying on the bed, her eyes staring blankly off into space, her face as pale as the white bed sheet. "Christine…?" Christine's pale arms shot out and she began to sob again as she hugged Ella tightly to her.

"Oh, Ella…oh my sister…my baby sister!" Though it seemed Christine was the baby, crying into Ella's lap. "…Oh...it was frightening! What I've seen…where I've been…I pray you shall never have to see such things!"

I already have! Ella said silently to herself. Yet she did not think the sights so horrible…she even found them beautiful. Didn't Christine too? Had she not felt the same way when the Phantom was singing to her? What had happened to her sister when she left her in that dark palace?

Ella raised Christine's face and looked in her eyes, exactly like hers. "What happened?" Christine just shook her head. "You were right," was all she replied.

Christine finally fell into a fitful sleep a few minutes later. Ella knew that she should stay with her; that it was her duty to watch over her sister in this hour of need. But she had to know what happened. She quietly made her way back toward the dressing room and the mirror. Luckily it was still early and hardly anyone was around. Obviously Madame Giry was going to wait for the managers to come in themselves before she told them of Christine's return.

Ella stood on the banks of the underground lake once again. This time though the gate was raised and it was deathly silent. Again she swam across but without the shock and fear of the night before. As she step onto dry land again, she tried to remind herself to be on her guard…just because it was quiet did not mean he was not here. But logic failed her. The thousands of candles looked like stars. She was awed by the beauty of this dark and mysterious place, and even more so by its master.

Slowly she made her way further in. There was a small diorama of the opera's stage. She smiled at the details of it. It was for the production of the Opera's next performance Il Muto. She noticed however that the Countessa's head piece looked an awful lot like Christine, while the one on the pageboy looked like Carlotta. She moved on, into what appeared to be a bedroom. The sheets on the bed were red as blood and rumpled. She was about to reach her hand out to touch the soft silk when something caught her eye.

What in the world?

It was a music box shaped like a barrel organ. There was a monkey on top, with two small cymbals in its hands. Ella wound it up and a smile brushed across her lips as she listened to it play. Who was this man that had created such a thing? That's voice could make her loathe her own sister?

Strong hands grabbed Ella's neck from behind. She tried to scream, but the hands grasped too tight! No…not grasping, choking! Someone was choking her!

The Phantom's profile appeared over her right shoulder, stopping mere inches from her own cheek. He pulled her backward against his chest, releasing one hand from her neck to place on her shoulder; his other hand stayed where it was, but relaxed its hold a bit. "Do not make an attempt to move, mademoiselle, or I shall be forced to break your neck," a cool and husky voice whispered in her ear. Having her oxygen cut off and then returned to her, Ella's chest rose and fell heavily. Her captor held her a moment more before thrusting her violently foreword.

Ella's hands caught the edge of the bed and she balanced herself. Slowly, shyly, she looked up at the man know as the Phantom of the Opera. He was facing her at a profile; she could just barely see the edges of the white mask nudging up over the bridge of his nose. The eye she could see burned with emotion. She looked away and again Ella found herself without words. The Phantom laughed.

"Come, Mademoiselle Estella," he said turning away. "I am sure your father would be rolling in his grave if he knew you were standing alone with a strange man in a bedroom." He led her back out into the main chamber. He sat himself down at his organ and motioned for her to sit in a nearby chair. Ella dropped down into the soft cushioned chair. He handed her a near by cloak to dry herself.

"What did you do to my sister!" she blurted out, her voice trembling. She did not want to sound so frightened. She did not want him to think her weak or stupid, yet he must think that. Ella again could not raise her dark eyes to his light ones. The Phantom laughed at her again.

"What business is it of yours?"

Vicious and spiteful man!

"She is my sister, monsieur! My only living kin! If she has been harmed or compromised it is my business!" The Phantom looked at the girl's face as she spoke. She had been so pale when he came upon her, paler still when he grabbed her so roughly, but now color seeped into her face, a fire ignited in her eyes. Eyes that remind him of Christine's, yet this Daae's were more solemn and oblique. "And what more, I demand to know who you are and what right you have to come and kidnap my sister and…and grab me so…and…and disturb things in the Opera so much!" Ella was again panting, having said this in one long breath. The Opera Ghost just looked her up and down, quickly, then a second time, more slowly, almost seductively. Ella wrapped the cloak around herself more tightly. She had been shivering from her swim across the lake, but now the Phantom's gaze seemed to warm her. Her mouth went dry and she ran her fingers through her wet hair. She wished he would stop scrutinizing her.

Finally his gaze came to rest on her face once more and he smiled. "You are not like your sister, little Daae." She narrowed her eyes at him.

"So good of you to notice, monsieur!" She made a mocking curtsy from her seat. "But I did not ask you what you thought of me, and frankly I do not care to know. In fact, I do not wish to know any of the thoughts in your vile head, monsieur. But I will ask you again…What transpired between you and my sister?" The Phantom's face became still as stone at her words.

"You think yourself brave, girl. Demanding answers of me and insulting me?"

"Not brave, sir. Stubborn," she replied, holding his gaze. "But it is better than being as naïve as my sister," she added. The Phantom leapt from his seat and grabbed Ella by the upper part of her arms. There would be bruises there in no time, as there would be around her neck; she would have to wear a scarf for the next couple of days.

"It is not stubbornness," he pulled her close to him, his breathe and words falling across her face, "but stupidity to talk of your sister so in front of me!"

"I merely speak the truth, monsieur," she whispered back. "I love Christine more than life itself, but she is naïve. That is the real reason I am here. It is my responsibility to protect her." The Phantom searched Ella's eyes after she said these words. He released his hard grip on her and moved his hands up her arm to the edges of the cloak which had fallen from her shoulders. He adjusted it with one hand as he brushed a wet lock of her hair behind her ear. Ella felt drunk, having this man so close, touching her so intimately.

"You are like Christine."

Ella snapped out of her dream state at hearing him say her sister's name with such affection and tenderness. He stepped away from her and she felt cold again. "The passion you show….when you speak about looking out for her. It is like when she sings." Ella shook her head.

"No, monsieur—." She stopped. "What is your name?" The Phantom looked startled at her question. "I merely ask out of respect; I cannot keep calling you monsieur alone, nor do I wish to refer to you as Phantom or Opera Ghost." A look came over him…sadness perhaps? "Surely you must have a name? A real name…"

"Christine never even asked me that." He looked away. " My name is Erik."

"….Erik..? Well, Monsieur Erik, I was going to say that when Christine sings, it is not with passion as much as a soft grace and some sadness. I see now what the reason for that sadness is." Erik shot her a murderous look, a minute later though his features softened.

"She believed you were an angel sent by our father. She cannot cope with this betrayal of reality." Erik did not look at her, but nodded.

"You should be with her. Come, I shall take you across by boat. We would not want you to catch cold now, would we?" He seemed to be mocking her.

They made their way silently across the lake and then to the stone staircase. Erik led her all the way to the top of the stairs. "You know the way from here no doubt, mademoiselle?" She nodded and turned to go down the passage. "Ella," he called after her. Hearing him call her name like that made a thousand butterflies release inside her stomach. She turned back to him.

"Yes…Erik?"

"I love your sister with every fiber of my being, and as she loves you, I spared you from my anger. But know this…if you tell a soul or interfere in any way, your sister's love will not protect you from me." Ella felt she had been stabbed with an icicle in the heart, but she found herself nodding.

"You do not have to worry, monsieur. I will keep your secret till the death." She turned and made her way back down the passage.

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