A/N: Another installment. Early, too! This chapter was very slow-going. (especially the song part). Sing the lyrics over the words during Why Have You Brought Me Here/I've Been There(I know they are terrible but bear with me)

Somnus later informed me that my collarbone had been completely snapped due to a well placed blow to my shoulder. That boy did not know his own strength, adrenaline must do that to a person. He had set and bound it quickly and painfully and then propped me up with a few black lace-edged pillows. I had said few words save cries of pain, gasps and grunts, now that my mind had cleared somewhat several questions wormed their way through.

Why had he brought me here?

You can't go back there

I must return

He helped you

They're burning sightless there

They would have killed you

My Christine, Gone!

They would destroy you

He could have killed me on a whim

The Phantom of the Opera's dire saga never ends

He's dead, the Phantom of the Opera!

My God who is this man?

My God who is this man?

What purpose filled?

This lo'er of death

You found escape with him

This demons voice I hear

And no fear instilled

With every breath

And in this terrifying, outlandish night

The Phantom of the Opera dies/died here/there out/inside your/my mind!

Somnus had uncovered the side I had fallen on in the darkness and released a tired breath. He left the room for a moment and I took the liberty to look around. The room was decorated in black silk which hung from every wall masking the faded, cracked brickwork beneath and ornate silver candlesticks lined the walls. The lavish care that festooned the room should have made me feel at home but the fierce order and stark aloofness did not. At that moment Somnus returned no longer in his deep wine robe but in a satiny manageable hooded shift that masked his form from head to toe. In one arm were several white clothes, two strange orb-shaped bottles and in the other a basin of water both of which he set down on a small table. He sighed thoughtfully and reached into his knee high boot and pulled out something small and silver. A dagger! Why would he bring me here to kill me! I put my weight on my good elbow and started backing up towards the head board. "Why are you doing this!" I cried apprehensively. He took a step back and let the small intricately wrought blade rest inoffensively against his pale un-gloved thumb. What does he mean? He does not want to harm me? He moved slowly towards me with the dagger in the same innocent position but I held my ground. With his free hand he motioned to the wound at my side. The sharp stones had slashed shirt and skin on the way to his sett, blood had soaked through the thin material onto the ebony sheets. He laid his hand on my chest and pressed down in a reassuring gesture and slowly brought the knife to cloth.

My heart beat rapidly but I did not move I trusted this man no more than I trusted myself. Then perhaps you trust yourself more than you think? A voice echoed laughingly through my thoughts. He had slowly cut through the black cloth of my trousers to expose the long bruised gash from the outside of my mid-thigh just to the inside of my hip bone. He turned and set the knife on one of the white cloths and soaked another in the warm water then applied it to the wound. I gasped involuntarily as the warm water stung terribly. He did this numerous times and then patted an aromatic substance from one of the orbs with another towel which deadened the pain to a dull ache. Lastly he put two cloths saturated with the liquid from the second orb on my forehead I began to feel sleepy A sleeping solution, how clever. I thought as I drifted off to a dreamless slumber