A/N: Firstly, thanks to everyone who reviewed;
Padfootz-luvr: Thanks for the tip, I've changed that now. I can't understand why authors don't include the 'siren' guarding Erik's home… it goes to show just how believable the tale of the Phantom really is, however strange it may seem upon first reading of it.
twinlady: I like your way of thinking! Thanks.
SilverWolf47: Yes, the story is set before Christine (way before), which hopefully explains any differences in character as far as Erik is concerned (that's my excuse, anyway!). Probably about twenty years before Christine, I'm not sure of the exact dates.
galabalesh: You don't get Mary-Sues of five years old! Kids are cute at that age anyway! But I see what you mean. She gets a bit whiny at the end of this chapter, to try and make her a little more realistic. But I think she would be pretty well-behaved anyway, brought up in a poor family and then landing in the world of the opera. But, I do get what your saying, and I'll try to
LoneGunGirl88: Thanks! Here you are!
Okay… the end of this chapter is a little darker than the others, and I'm afraid that poor Ellisa is right in the middle of it – sorry! Here we go;
Disclaimer: Nope. Nada. Apart from Ellisa, the ballet-mistress, the conductor, and various other characters. Read and enjoy nonetheless!
Chapter Three
Above ground, all hell was breaking loose, for the conductor had at last noticed the absence of his charge. He had at first thought her to be simply ill, or tired, and assumed that she was merely resting in the dormitories reserved for the young ballerinas, but when the ballet teacher, the strict yet kind Mme Enies came to him and asked if he knew where young Ellisa was, he had immediately informed the managers. A little over dramatic, perhaps, considering that Ellisa was nothing more than a five-year-old dancer, but, despite his stern mannerisms, the conductor truly did care for that girl, and the thought that she might somehow be in danger put the fear of God into the man. Added to that, he had sworn to the girl's father, a close friend of his, that he would keep the girl safe and secure for as long as she was to remain under his wing. How could ever break the news to such a doting father that his only child had simply disappeared from under the eyes of both the conductor and the ballet mistress?
No, the conductor had thought, shaking his head. It would simply not do.
And so he had gone to the managers, who had, upon hearing his request – for a search to be sent out to find her, for it was quite feasible that she had wandered off into the catacombs of the Opera and got lost – become quite solemn, and sadly, shook their heads. Then Poligny, the slightly more conscientious of the two, had pulled from his pocket a note, written in a childish red script. It read;
Dear Managers,
Kindly do not fear for the safety of the ballet girl, Ellisa. She is safe and unharmed. Make no attempt to find her, for to do so could have grave consequences. Ever your obedient servant,
O.G
P.S. Kindly do not forget that my salary has yet to be paid. Leave it, as ever, in the care of Mme Denachien, my current box-keeper. And I would very much appreciate it if Box 5 were available for my use tomorrow night for the performance of Romeo and Juliet.
Upon reading this, the conductor had thrown the note down on the desk and looked up at the mangers in disgust.
"You truly believe this… this ghost, do you?" he leaned forward, his moustache bristling slightly. "This is a ridiculous superstition!" Debienne, the other joint-manager, squirmed uncomfortably in his seat, before pleading desperately;
"But Monsieur, you have seen what this… this… phantom can do! You know of the… the accidents that have happened. He is dangerous, my dear man, a monster! We have to obey his commands!" The conductor gave him a furious look that would have had even the bravest of men quailing in his boots. And Debienne was hardly the bravest of men!
"Then all the more reason to try and find Ellisa! She could be in danger!" The two managers flinched at the man's anger, and tried to splutter their excuses, but the conductor simply shook his head in disgust.
"I will look for her myself, then!" And with that, the conductor stormed out, leaving the two managers alone to ponder their problems.
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'O.G' had not lied. Ellisa was with him, safe, and unharmed – a fact he himself found a cause for great bemusement. He knew he was taking a great risk in allowing the child to see his underground home, to see him, to know him, but the longer she stayed, the more times she flashed that little smile at him, the more he found himself softening towards her. It was, he thought, at least a little comfort to know that he was not quite that debased that he could harm a child.
At that exact moment in time, as the curiously masked man pondered these things, little Ellisa was asleep, and he at his stool by his organ. Before him, there was a manuscript – his precious Don Juan Triumphante – but he found, somehow, that he could not, however hard he tried, let the dark chords roll. He normally had little trouble losing himself in the beautiful, seductive power of music, but this time, all he could think of was the child, asleep in a little room barely twenty feet away.
He was just about to make one last attempt at sinking into the music when he felt a tugging at his coat tails. He looked down, quite unsurprised to see Ellisa grinning up at him. He sighed, and bent down so that his eyes were level with hers.
"Yes, little one? What is it this time?" The girl had awoken from her slumber and interrupted him at least twice with her requests. He pretended to be annoyed, but, somehow, he couldn't quite manage to be sincere about it. Ellisa pointed at the organ, and pouted slightly.
"You don't play!" She exclaimed childishly, but, then again, he had to remind himself, she was a child.
"Very well," he replied coolly, "what would you like me to play?" At this, the girl bit her lip, and shrugged. The man – Erik, as he had already come to think of himself – shrugged as well, though with infinitely more elegance. He then turned back to the organ, and, slowly, began to play – Mendlesson's Wedding March, a bright, rousing theme of a piece of music, a theme he had long since committed to memory, but also long since forgotten, and now he blew, slowly and carefully, the dust from the memories.
And as he played, filling the underground caverns with music, fine and beautiful, an incredible thing happened. His heart, which had for so long been cold and embittered towards all humanity, gently began to warm, to fill with an emotion he had never before known, or if he had, he had long forgotten.
That emotion, or perhaps state of mind, as it could perhaps be called, was happiness, and it was both alien and beautiful to him, overwhelming –
Slowly, he lifted his hands from the keys, and the music drifted away into nothingness. He looked down at Ellisa, smiling, and was both surprised and concerned to see tears streaming down her face.
"Why such tears, little one?" He asked slowly, frowning. Ellisa gulped, biting her lips.
"I want my Papa!" She whined, and the man's frown furrowed deeper into his forehead. The girl had mention her father once before, and he wondered what had become of the man…
"Where is your father, girl?" He still would not call Ellisa by her name, for he feared, as he always did, that she would, soon, push him away. The girl shrugged.
"He left me." She said in a tiny voice, and the sadness with which she spoke stirred anger in the man's heart. He himself had never truly known his parents – his father had left him and his mother soon after his birth, and his own mother, that poor, suffering woman, had found the sight of him too repulsive to even bear. Then, his reverie was broken, by a whine from the girl;
"I want to go back!" These words struck ice in the man's heart. He did not want her to return to the opera, he wanted her to stay, with him – "Take me back!" She stamped her foot, sniffling. The man looked at her with hatred in his eyes –
She fell backwards, the force of his blow causing her to land, painfully, against a heavy wooden cabinet. Her lip trembling, she stood up, silently, her eyes downcast. She looked up once more at the man, but he was staring blankly at the music propped up on the organ. The girl turned, and fled, the tears falling once more.
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A/N: Please review, and tell me what you think!