If I could have screamed, I would have. I would have screamed until my lungs exploded from the force. As it was, with my jaw locked and my face stifled in the folds of Erik's billowing velvet cape, it was a useless notion. The sound that I had managed to produce was quite an unpleasant moaning that resonated through my teeth making them ache all the more.
As the mirror slid closed, I knew that no one could hear me, that no one could help me now. We were consumed by the darkness, it spread like a disease over the hallway, swallowing it whole. The only light came from the mirror, the soft glow of the few candles that were lit in my dressing room breaking through the black of the passageway. I realized that He must have been watching me for some time. It was a trick mirror, allowing Him to see the entire room while being veiled by the reflection. It gave me a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach to know that He had been there, and that I had been correct in assuming so all along.
Slowly, light began filtering it's way through the dark. Ornately gaudy candelabras clung to the slimy walls, small candles flickering eerie shadows upon them. Erik said nothing. He continued his brisk, yet graceful stride towards His home, His bony shoulders digging painfully into my ribs with His gait. I tried to shift myself into a more comfortable position, squirming through His impossible grasp. He only clung to my frame tighter, possessively wrapping His arms around my waist. I could not give up just yet. I would not allow Him to force me down to the cellars of His Opera House.
"Those who have discovered the secret of the mirrors and sought out my lair never return to the daylight."
I panicked. Remembering those words, hearing the impending doom echo in my head, filled me with a strength I did not know I possessed. My voice pierced through the thick silence with that horrible guttural sound, my tiny fists pounding into His back mercilessly. My feet, still clad in the soft ballet slippers, dug into His abdomen and His hips. He cried aloud and dropped me onto the solid, icy floor. I sprang to my feet and began running away from Him, not knowing where I was headed; just simply glad to have escaped.
After a few seconds, the darkness set it once again. The adrenaline was still coursing its way through my body, making my hairs stand on ends. My eyes strained to make out any sort of shapes, but it was impossible. I stood there dumbfounded, my feet poised to flee if only I knew the way. I could hear Him breathing still, the harsh gasps for air booming through the narrow corridors.
"Oh, yes Alessandra! Do try and make an escape!" He laughed, a disturbingly menacing noise. I could faintly hear the clicking of His boots upon the pavement. He knew where I was, He was coming for me! I felt around blindly, my hands hysterically searching for any kind of opening. "You are more likely to be eaten by the rats then to ever find your way out of this labyrinth!"
My mind barely registered the words. No way out? Of course there is a way out! I did not, would not allow myself to give up. I knew that if Erik managed to drag me down to His lair, I would never return, never see the light of day again. My feet carried me through the narrow hallway, groping uselessly around the stony walls. The taps were becoming louder, soon the noise was deafening. My erratic heartbeat mixed with the labored breathing of my chest resonated through the tiny passageway. The clacks increasing, the sound swelling! Then, all was still. All was silent.
I felt a moist breeze sweep past my ear, my waves ruffling with the air. I stood absolutely still, for that was no random gust of wind that washed over me. I knew that in this dismal, bitter lair there had never been any warmth. There never would be any warmth.
Another passed, then another, and another. They seemed to be coming in tempo, each one timed with uncanny perfection. The pungent smell of brandy wafted up to my nose, wrinkling it with its strong aroma. As the innocuous breeze continued to come in perfect rhythm, whispers flooded into my ears. Though I could not distinguish their message, I continued listening to them nevertheless. They flowed so naturally, so beautifully, like poetry weaving its way into the depths of my mind. Physically, I could hear no music, the blackened hall was as silent as ever. But, in my head, a symphony erupted. A full concerto was being played, the soft purrs of the violin euphorically calming my tense nerves, slowly un-kinking my exhausted muscles. I tilted my head back with pleasure, no longer thinking of the looming threat that concealed itself in the dark. All that mattered was the music. Yes! The music! The breathtaking sounds that played were beyond words, beyond feeling. It was as if something inside of me finally exploded, relieving years of the built-up tension and torture. Nothing existed, nothing mattered anymore. Nothing except the music.
My body swayed, back and forth in time with the notes. Lyrics and choruses were not heard, but rather felt. I could feel the anguish, the sorrow, and the pain with each and every chord. I could sense the passion, the want, the need. The music was so strong, so powerful and almighty, it consumed me. Devoured my senses, my logic, until I was stripped naked of everything that belonged to me. My thoughts, my mind, my body and soul. It was like some cosmic puppeteer was insanely pulling on my strings, directing my emotions as a conductor would direct an orchestra.
I was vaguely aware of two objects creating pressure on my back. The weight started on the small of it, gradually smoothing its way up my spine, coming to rest on my shoulders. As the curious masses began pulsing into the tender skin at the base of my neck, I shivered at the all-too-familiar sensation. So strangely familiar! I reluctantly snapped myself out of the melodious trance, my head jolting forward when my senses had finally returned. The weight remained there tracing heavy patterns onto my reddening skin. With a trembling hand, I reached up to distinguish the thing that was now occupying itself at the base of my neck. It was long and sinewy, but the trait I most remembered about the mass was its frigid, clammy texture. With a gasp of recognition, I sprang forward, my mouth agape with unspoken curses and screams.
It was He whose hands seized hold of my shoulders, expelling His heated breath across my face. Was it Him that also filled my mind with that music? Deciding that I did not want to wait and find out, I fought back against His grip, His spidery fingers burrowing themselves into the crook of my neck. With one swift move, I was atop his shoulders again, growling like some sort of caged animal. I tried to flee once again, but He was a quick learner. He held my arms together, clasping them behind my back. Restricted and tightly bound, I decided that any resistance was futile. Gradually I relaxed my body, limply flapping against His back with each step.
We continued deeper into this foreign world of shadow. Here, light and time ceased to exist. Suddenly, He stopped, causing my head to thump against His shoulders harder than I had expected. I winced as I strained my neck to see the reason for this abrupt halt. What I saw, I clearly had not expected. Not in the least.
My eyes widened in sheer fascination, the inky water of the underground lake reflecting into their russet depths. Tiny ripples of the water cascaded around the surface, gently rocking a small gondola that sat on the makeshift dock. Though I had only been at L'Opera Populaire for a few short months, there was never any mention of a submerged lake. So curious, so abnormal…a perfect place for the lair of a phantom!
He confidently stepped into the shaky boat, all but dropping me on a cushion at the bow. My body was grateful for the contrast of the soft, plush pillow to the firm, rigid frame of Erik. I settled onto the padding and turned so that I faced Him. He said nothing, only inspected me with those fiery eyes, now blazing with a mix of the lingering anger and perhaps a bit of apprehension. I expected Him to conjure up a sarcastive comment, mocking my foolishness for believing in, for trusting in Him. Without so much as a word of explanation, Erik grabbed the oar resting next to the boat and smoothly pushed off from the shore.