Chapter 18

"Are you sure that you do not want anything to eat?" Hector asked, finishing up his meal. He took a sip of his wine, setting the glass carefully back down on the table and looking up to watch Elle shake her head no at his question. A few loose strands of blonde hair settled about her face. With his right hand Hector picked up his napkin and, wiping his face, placed it up on the table next to his nearly empty plate. He casually leaned back in his chair, his hands resting lightly on his lap. "How has the opera house been lately? I hear that your father has been letting my father handle most of the management since… you know."

"Actually the opera house is not doing so well," Elle answered, turning her gaze from her folded hands up to Hector's eyes. She took this question as an opportunity to bring up the recent controversial events. He was Mister Tremaine's son, so there was a chance that he had some influence with his father and if not then at least she could voice her concerns to somebody. "Have you spoken with your father recently?"

"No, why?" he inquired, the expression in his blue eyes turning from enthusiasm to apprehension. He instinctively sat up straight and waited for her answer. Truthfully Hector did not expect to hear a negative response to his inquiry. He caught the appearance of distress expressed by Elle's own emerald eyes. "Is something wrong?"

"Yesterday at rehearsal Estelle sat on a chair that was covered with some type of glue. I don't know if you noticed or not, but Estelle has a bad temper and so she threw a massive fit over it. Apparently she threatened to quit and sing at another opera house, so your father agreed to all of her petty demands in order to convince her to stay. This morning he fired every single stagehand because no one would come forward and admit that they were responsible. From what I hear no one knows who actually did do it, and if that was not bad enough this is going to be Isabel's last production because of Estelle's jealousy. None of this would have happened if my father was still running things."

With a sigh Elle ceased talking and Hector thought about what she just told him. She obviously was upset over his father's decisions, which he had to admit did sound a bit unnecessary. Mister Bolster and his father seemed to go through a lot of trouble to keep their lead soprano. Although she could seem more a nuisance to the establishment than she was worth, he did see in the singer what the directors did. Hector remembered back when he first saw her in Carmen, when he first witnessed her stage presence and was captivated by her performance. He would have never known that she was actually a spoiled prima donna. Another example of how appearances can be deceiving.

Pulling himself out of his thoughts, Hector turned his attention back on his company. "Is there anything I can do to help? I can't speak for my father, I am sure that he has his reasons for the things that he does, but I can promise to talk to him for you- on your behalf. I don't think that there is much that I can do for the stagehands, yet there is a chance that I can save Isabel from being turned away from the opera house."

There was a flash of hope in her eyes as Elle struggled to give him a genuine smile. She was not sure if he would offer to do anything or not, but sure enough he did. It showed his true character that even though she had refused to see him many times that he would still be considerate and offer to help her. "That would be very kind of you."

For a minute they simply looked at each other, neither saying a word and both with different things on their minds. Elle was still ruminating about the situation at the opera house, while Hector had something else that was occupying his thoughts. His right hand that had been sitting on his lap moved and slowly found its way into the pocket on his suit jacket. It was again fiddling with something that rested inside of the compartment. Elle did not notice; her eyes were off staring into space when Hector's glanced back up to look at her.

"Elle, I have been meaning to ask you something," Hector began, drawing her attention back to him. He seemed a bit more anxious than usual, without the casual ease that first made Elle feel comfortable around him. "I am not sure what to say."

The young woman may have looked like she was paying close attention to him, but in all reality her mind was still off where it could not be reached by someone like Hector. She did not notice the tenseness in the man's voice, nor did she place any importance on his words. Instead she took the time that he used to take a breath to interrupt. "What time is it?"

Hector looked at her oddly, somewhat bothered that she would ask him that when he was in the middle of asking her something. With his free hand he brought out a gold watch that hung on a chain from his left pocket. His right hand was still in his right pocket. Quickly his eyes moved from her to the watch and seconds later he was slipping it back into its spot in his coat. Glancing back at Elle he answered, "It is about thirty after two."

"This was nice Hector," Elle replied, pushing back her chair and getting up from the table. "But I really should be getting back. I did not tell anyone where I was going and I am already late for afternoon rehearsals."

"Alright, we can talk later. I will take you back to the opera house. Let me go tell the driver to bring the carriage around to the front."

Elle waited for Hector to return and then together they walked out to the carriage. Hector helped her into the carriage before entering behind her and, with one call to the driver, they were headed back to L'Opera Magnifique. The two parted at the front entrance after Hector left a brief kiss on Elle's small hand and opened the door for her. She entered the building without looking back and as she walked off Hector turned around muttering to himself under his breath. Less than two minutes later the carriage and Hector were gone, leaving tracks behind as the only evidence of their presence.

As she ascended the carpeted steps Elle changed her direction. She decided that instead of going straight to her room she would pay her dear friend Nadia a visit. There were questions that she longed to have answered, so many things that she wanted to know. Fortunately she easily found her friend sitting in the ballet foyer with Meg and several other dancers. She quietly joined them, waiting for the girl who was speaking to stop. The first thing that she heard leave the girl's mouth was "The Phantom of the Opera", and she chose that moment to interrupt. Normally she would not interrupt anyone, but she found it curious that they happened to be discussing the one person, or thing, that she wanted to know about.

"Who is the Phantom of the Opera?" Elle asked, forcing every girl present to turn their heads and look at her with astonishment.

The girl who had been speaking was the one to answer her, but instead of giving her an actual answer she asked her another question in response. It seemed that everyone there was surprised that Elle would ask such a thing. "Are you telling me that you have not heard the stories?"

Elle shook her head no and Meg Giry stepped in. "The Phantom of the Opera is a very famous apparition. Several years ago, when I was a dancer here, when here was called L'Opera Populaire, he was held responsible for every odd occurrence that went on in the theatre. I am sure that you heard of the destruction of this place, how it was brought to ruins by a fire, but you do not know the whole story. It was a tragedy."

"What happened?" Elle asked. Meg was silent for a moment and then continued, but she spoke so low that everyone had to be completely quiet in order to hear her. Elle was not sure if she did that for effect, which was working, or because she thought that someone was listening.

"You may have heard of Christine Daae, she was one of my friends back then. She once told me that she was receiving singing lessons from someone who she called the Angel of Music. On the night of the fire the opera house was putting the production of a new opera, the Phantom's opera, named Don Juan Triumphant. Christine was singing the female lead. Well, during one of the songs the Phantom took over the lead opposite Christine and after they finished singing their duet Christine ripped off his mask and revealed his entire face. It startled everyone. Then the chandelier crashed down and the Phantom and Christine disappeared from the stage. See the Angel of Music was actually the Phantom. Around that time we found that the Phantom had murdered the singer whose place he had taken. Christine was engaged to this man named Raoul de Chagney, and after her disappearance he was quite upset. He was worried that something would happen to Christine. My mother offered to take him to the Phantom's lair, we were all sure that was where he took her, and I wanted to go along but she would not let me. So after they went off I lead another group down below. When we made it there he was gone, all we found was his mask. That was the last anyone had heard from him, of course until the opera house opened again."

"What happened to Christine?" Elle inquired, her attention entirely engaged by the story.

"The Phantom had let her and Raoul go. They ran off together that night and I have not heard from her since. I assume that they are married somewhere by now." Meg Giry answered, becoming silent again and letting the others whisper to each other.

"But why did he kidnap Christine?" a brunette asked, looking over at Meg.

"Isn't it obvious?" Nadia asked in response, replying for Meg. "He loved her."

"Now that he is back who knows what is going to happen," another girl said, causing all the girls to break off into their own little conversations. Nadia joined Elle at the side of the room, ignoring the several voices that were all speaking at once.

"He is all they talk about these days," Nadia commented, gesturing over at the other girls who were still chatting. "It is funny how people can be scared by something, or should I say someone, and yet fascinated at the same time."

Not long later Madame Giry came in to remind the girls that it was time for them to return to rehearsals. She scolded them for gossiping about the Opera Ghost, warning them that it was not smart to upset him. They stopped talking at her reprimand, quickly stretching and then heading off to the theatre. Elle joined them and walked with Nadia, glad to know that Estelle's part in the rehearsals was finished for the day so she left already to head home. The two girls separated when they reached their destination, Nadia heading for the stage and Elle heading for the audience. The directors were there by now and seemed a bit impatient to finish the rest of the rehearsals for that day. Due to their obvious eagerness to leave, the performers rushed to get ready and soon the scene was underway. Elle had some trouble paying attention, the story that she heard concerning her own instructor of music was consuming her mind. She could not quite see her teacher doing all those things that the girls said he did.

After the rehearsal was over Elle lingered in the theatre. The directors were the first to leave, as usual, but they seemed a little hastier in step then normal. For some time the directors had been edgy, and no one was quite sure why. Then the performers began to head off, first the musicians and then the singers, the dancers taking their time. When Elle was alone her eyes scanned the room. They first landed on the large stage and she realized that it had been weeks, maybe even months, since she stood alone on that platform. First making sure that no one was around to watch her, Elle took quick steps up and onto the stage.

Being on the stage again suddenly reminded her of the first time that she communicated with the Opera Ghost. She had naively thought that he was a construction worker, when in all reality he turned out to be the best singer that she had ever heard. At the time she was bedazzled by the new theatre and frightened by the voice that she could hear yet had no face to place with it. The stage held for Elle an emotion that she could not quite explain; it was similar to how she felt each time that she lovingly stroked the keys of her old piano before playing it. Her head filled with memories, Elle walked around the stage. In a way she had missed it, as a stable boy misses his favorite horse, but there was comfort in knowing that it was so near. She strolled in this way for a few minutes, not watching her steps and looking dreamily around her. Then unexpectedly she felt her feet trip over something, pulling her from her deep thoughts, and by the time she realized what was happening she fell through a hole.

Abruptly Elle was tossed down into some unknown place, landing unceremoniously on her backside. She scurried up from the ground as quickly as the dress weighing her down would allow. After regaining her balance and posture, she looked around. Soon it became apparent to her that she was in trouble. Not only was she unaware of her location, but the place was so dark that she could not see a thing. She stumbled around, feeling around for the wall. When she eventually found one, after almost tripping over her skirts several times, she used it to guide her, meanwhile calling out, "Help! Is anyone there? I need help!"

At last she thought that she saw some light in the distance. She sped up, full of hope of finding a way out of there, which she assumed was one of the cellars of the opera house, and sure that she was getting close to something. Then Elle saw the outline of a person. She yelled louder, to get their attention, and kept at the pace she was going. Eventually she caught up to them, yet could not see them well enough to know anything other than the fact that it was a man. "Can you help me? I'm lost."

The man moved closer to her, sending a shiver up her spine. She suddenly felt like asking him for help was a bad idea. Scared, she backed up, but he kept coming. The light of the lantern that he was holding with his right hand illuminated the man's face as he pulled his arm up and used the beam of light to look at her. His gruff face spread into a grin, baring black teeth and spaces where bad teeth had fallen out. He kept moving until he was close enough for her to feel his moist breath on her exposed skin, and Elle could smell the powerful scent of whiskey mixed with sweat and dirt. The combination made her cringe, and her stomach tied into a thousand knots. She had to do something, and fast.

Her first impulse told her to run, so Elle backed up a little farther and attempted an escape. She made it down a little way, but the man followed her and since her dress was heavy and her shoes uncomfortable it was easy for him to catch up. He grabbed her frail arm, smearing filth and grime on her sleeve, and clenched hard. Elle let out a long scream, not only because she was terrified but also because his grip was so tight. If he had longer nails than with the force he was pressing on her they would have gone through the fabric and into her skin. Her breathing grew heavier and her heart beat increased its speed tenfold. A strong sensation surged through her body and she felt weak.

Unable to look anywhere but his face, she examined it. Then suddenly it was like she was hit with some understanding, Elle recognized this man. He was unmistakably one of the stagehands, a scene shifter. She knew every face that worked on that stage, and his was one of them. Thinking harder about it now, she came to remember that he was one of the men who had been fired on that the previous day before rehearsal. After Estelle had threatened to leave the opera house for good, the directors decided to fire all of the stagehands that had been working that day. This man was one of them, and the loss of his job seemed to have taken a toll on his mind. The alcohol did not help either; that substance could force gentle men into violent rages, altering their brains so that they do commit acts that they would normally never even think of doing.

He pushed her against the rigid stone wall, snapping her roughly out of her reverie, and kept his strong hold on her. She began to cry, out of desperation and her vulnerability. Feeling completely helpless, she did not continue to struggle, but hoped that he would take pity on her and let her go. Apparently he had no intention of doing that, because he ruthlessly pressed her into the wall and held her there. He covered her mouth to stifle the sound of her screams and cries, but she continued weeping. To stop her he raised his free hand, and slapped her. There was a ring on his finger, which he stole no doubt, and when he hit her it cut the smooth skin of her head. She felt a sting, then the taste of blood as it trickled down her hair and landed on her lips. At this he laughed. The stench of his breathe again filled her nostrils, and she instinctively turned her head in an attempt to escape the horrid fumes.

Elle closed her eyes with childish fear, not wanting to find out what he was going to do to her next and too scared to see for herself, and then out of anxiety opened them again. She had barely opened her eyes when she heard a loud noise, something sturdy had hit the man on his head, and he fell unconscious onto the ground. She stood there looking at him for a minute in alarm, and a surge of relief swept through her body, causing her to give out one sharp cry. The combination of the trauma and the sudden shock overwhelmed her, and the next thing she knew everything went blank.

A/N: Thank you all for reviewing, I was extremely pleased with the number of reviews. This one is a bit longer than usual, next update should be by this weekend. Once again thank you all for reading and please review!

Kate- Thank you, that means a lot. And I did enjoy the prom, it was fun.

TheWyldeWestWynd- You shall see, thanks for the review.

Galasriniel- That explains it then. Thank you, and about your questions- you will see (or more like read) soon enough.

Asia1st- Sorry that you think my chapters are getting boring, but this is how I write. All of the little details are important to the story. Thanks for the review.

Anri- I hope you have fun at yours too. Mine was definitely fun. Anyway, thanks for the compliment, I'll try.

TheTrinityJ- Thank you. Your story sounds interesting, did you start writing it yet?

Kiwi Anime- That's ok, I know what you mean. Thanks for the advice, I wouldn't want to bore my readers.