Gods-girl2004 - Oh, yes the inspiration is coming pretty quickly these days... I'll update every time I get more reviews!
Princess Persephone - Mine too, and it goes frizzy when I try to put a wave in it! I didn't know Emmy Rossum's hair was a wig! Oh noes! Well... it makes me feel better now that her hair is fake XD
I Despise Raoul - PANTY RAID! Oh no, that would be just terrible... wouldn't want that to happen now, would I? XDDD
Phantom's Heart - Oh, a week or so... He wouldn't have showered much in the past two years though either I'd imagine...
Angelus de Seraphim - >.> Is nive a word?
:checks: ...Oh.
All my reviewers get fortune cookies, cause it was my birthday on the 22nd of June and I love teh fortune cookie-ness! Yum!
Sunlight spilt through the tiny window in the attic, the beams of light shining onto Erik's face. He blinked blearily and sat up. The attic was now bright enough to see around it and the amount of dust present there also. As the phantom got to his feet and approached the window, he used the sleeve of his rags to wipe the dust away so he could peek outside.
There was a vast landscape, which lay before him. He had not encountered such a thing for a very long time. Lush green lawn spanned out into light forest and he caught a glimpse of ocean in the distance. But, Erik's eyes could not handle the bright light, not just yet. He turned from the window and to the objects that surrounded him. Until he could figure out where he was and how to escape, this would be his home. Erik realised he would also have to allow time to get used to the light, after all his time in darkness.
A mirror, partially hidden behind a stack of old paintings taunted him from afar. It reflected his face as he looked into it, and nothing else. He had not gazed upon his reflection for a very long time. His hair was tangled, and covered most of his face. From what he could see, his skin was dark and tainted with dirt.
Erik approached the mirror and tried to push the paintings aside, but they were too heavy. One by one, he moved the paintings to another resting place. As he picked them up, Erik could not help but gaze at the oil painted designs on the canvas. They were mostly of women, stories and myths… Until he came upon a striking scene which he could not bring his eyes away from.
It was of an angel in a plain brown robe with his scythe at his side, kneeling to comfort a pleading woman.
Erik looked to the signature… Evelyn de Morgan. Checking the other paintings, he found them all by the same woman… Was this her house that he was in, or perhaps a fan of such a style? Either way, the person who lived here had exquisite taste in their artwork... It was just a pity all these paintings had been locked away in the attic.
Erik turned the painting as he rested it with the others. It reminded him of how Christine had seen him as a little girl, the first time she had encountered her 'angel', a comforting hidden force who came in the wake of her father's death.
Finally, he took the mirror and covered it with a old blanket, as he would have done with all the mirrors in his lair… before he shattered them all.
Juliya yawned and stretched uncomfortably. The book she was reading had fallen to the floor, and the fire extinguished itself. She went to the kitchen and bowed before the basin, splashing water on the fair skin of her face. Juliya opened the kitchen window, and a draft came into the room and against the hallway door, which was not closed properly. It creaked in response and the handle hit the wall as the door opened to its full extent, revealing the shattered glass and spilt flowers.
"Oh, however could this have happened?" Juliya gaped at the mess, dropping the towel she was using to dry her face.
Quickly, she picked the towel back up and used it to clean up the water. She knew instantly that her pet cat must have gotten inside somehow during the night. Winter, the name of her only pet, often found ways to get inside the house, especially without his owner's knowledge.
Juliya quickly brushed up the glass and used a second towel to soak the remaining water. She picked up the roses and found them a new home, a fresh glass of water in the kitchen.
As Erik rummaged through the attic, he came to a pile of dark fabric with a large ball of fur nestled among it, curled up neatly. A pair of green eyes opened and looked up at him, purring lovingly.
Erik said nothing, and paused what he was doing. He had once been quite superstitious, as far as black cats went. The cat stretched, got to its feet and approached him with curiosity, finally rubbing itself on Erik's legs as it purred.
"Oh, hello…" Erik murmured. This was the first type of affection he had received in a long time. He reached down to pet the cat, and was instantly rewarded with louder purrs. The cat did not care that the phantom's fingernails were black with dirt, and overgrown.
As mysteriously as the cat had appeared, it padded over and pushed its way through the crack in the doorway and out of the room.
Erik sighed and followed the cat. In the light he could creep down the stairs and onto the second floor. There, he heard it once again. It was the haunting viola music from the night before.
Taking quick uneasy steps, Erik found that there was very little movement in the house, if any. No bustle of maids or servants… It was empty, all but that haunting music.
Recognising the staircase in which he had climbed to escape the shattered vase, Erik crept ever so quietly down the stairs, looking to the doorway that would be his eventual escape. The mess was gone, only a few small pools of water remained on the polished wooden floorboards.
He paused, as the music became louder. The door was open ever so slightly, and he peeked into the room. The sleeping creature he had seen the night before was standing with her back turned to the doorway. Her posture was evenly balanced at first glance, her back straight and her frame was quite average for a young woman. Her long hair was dead straight and fell loosely to her waist. As he watched her play, she swayed gently and rested her weight back and forth between her legs.
Juliya found her thoughts wandering to other matters as she played. She wondered if her father was safe. She also thought of her mother, whom she knew was in heaven, but prayed for silently.
But, in her mind most of all was her muse, who had gradually disappeared from her life over the past year.
As a child, she had an incredible imagination that helped her paint and draw. Her mother always told her that the wonderful imagination that Juliya showed was a gift from her muse, who gave her the inspiration to play wonderful music. This muse was her gateway to success.
Winter pushed past Erik's legs and through the crack in the door. The cat rushed over to Juliya and brushed against her, stopping the flow of music completely.
"Oh, Winter…" Juliya fussed over her pet, picking him up. She set the viola and bow down on the old oak table that lay in the main area of the library. Taking the cat, she moved into the next room, always remembering to close the door securely behind her. This was an important habit her mother had taught her, but was often thwarted by her clever and persistent pet.
Erik's eyes fell onto his pipe organ, which was right where he remembered it to be, across from the fireplace. It looked exactly how it always did, and he wondered how it had been moved so far from the opera house, without his knowledge.
Inching into the library, Erik crept over to his organ and touched it lovingly with one hand. As he opened the lid and checked the keys, nothing had changed. Glancing over his shoulder every so often, Erik felt so uneasy knowing that in the other room, there was a complete stranger who now had taken his most precious earthly belonging away from him.
Running his fingers along the keys, Erik slipped and the very same THUD ensued when he hit a key. It was not as loud as he had remembered it when he was inside the pipe organ itself, but it forced the phantom to swiftly look for a hiding place… The woman was sure to have heard him. He ascended up a small creaky set of stairs, to the second level of the library.
Desperately, the angel found a dark corner and sunk into it. His rag of a suit was still black, despite how worn it was, and hid him perfectly in the darkness.
Juliya was startled by the noise, and jumped. Winter dropped out of her arms and ran across the floor.
She glanced at the cat, then at the doorway in which she had entered. Turning the knob gently, she peered back into the library.
The lid of the pipe organ was open, but Juliya saw nothing else that was unusual. She swung the door open and stepped through, trying to put an explanation to the strange occurrence. It could not be Winter, he had been with her all that time, and there was no possible way he could have lifted the heavy lid… He was only a cat!
Suddenly, Juliya's imagination was at work once more… Could this pipe organ be haunted?
'No, that's stupid.' Juliya let a small laugh escape her trembling lips
"There's no ghost…" She said harshly, to comfort herself "Stop it, you're an adult… There's got to be a reason for this."
Juliya strode over to the pipe organ and dropped the lid shut, with a loud bang. This was a fine time for her muse to return, to frighten her senseless!
"Oh, why must you treat me like this?" Juliya mumbled to her invisible muse, as if it were another person beside her "Mother always said raw emotion brought out the most beautiful of art…. But with all these happenings, I find nothing… Why won't you give me something to build on? Just one chance to show the world…"
She sighed; her muse had shown no promise to her artwork either. Every time she began something, it was taken away. The inspiration just vanished, all of a sudden.
Erik drew in a sharp breath. He could hear the woman talking to someone else, but was utterly confused by this. From his point of view in the corner, he saw no one else down there. The woman spoke of a muse, of inspiration… No doubt she had the talent, but Erik knew for himself that talent was nothing without the imagination to guide it.
Winter once again entered the library, pouncing up onto the pipe organ's seat and gazing up at his owner. He mewed, and Juliya took him back into her arms, petting behind his ears.
"Come on Winter, you silly old thing, I'd better put you outside. Today Philippe comes to repair the pipe organ and I know he doesn't really like cats. Hmm, I'd better go into the village and collect Jacques' mail for him, I know he left me a list of errands to run for him somewhere around here… I really wish he would have hired at least one servant to help with the housework; whenever my inspiration comes is always the most awkward of times…" Juliya thought miserably out loud, as she strode toward the hallway door.
As the heavy door clicked shut behind her, the phantom was alone once more.
