DISCLAIMER: Please refer to Chapter Two

Cecilia realized it was time for her to leave this "God forsaken place." Now that she had been educated that she was not welcome, she devised a plan to leave. Yet she wondered, how the hell am I going to get out of here when I have no clue how I got down here?

She opened the dress closet once again and removed what was left of her favorite blue dress. It does not look….so bad…… She immediately tried on the disheveled garment and realized that she was at least covered to some point of decency. I cannot walk the snow-laden streets of Paris in this contraption.

She began searching the room for any other speck of clothing that may allow her to flee this place. Finally, after rummaging again through the dress closet, she managed to find a rather magnificent cloak. As she caressed the smooth black velvet cloak, her eyes moved toward the rather romantically cut hood. With a graceful motion, she swung the beautiful garment around her still bruised neck. Good thing I found this, I will be able to hide my beaten face. She chuckled at the irony of her situation. She had resorted to phantom-like techniques. Needless to say, she did not want to stay and find out what else they may have in common.

As she straightened her dress, her small clutch dropped from her petticoat. As she leaned over to obtain the satin purse, she smiled in delight. Good. I can at least hire a carriage to get me home. That is, if I can find my way out of this place.

After making the bed and straightening up the room, Cecilia walked into the sitting room and sat at Erik's paper-burdened desk. Taking out a new scrap of parchment and inking a rather stunning quill, she wrote a brief note to Erik. Soon, she set the quill back into its stand, placed the note upon Erik's organ, and boarded the small second gondola which had been docked at the water's edge.

Erik returned minutes before the dawn graced the stunning buildings of Paris. He walked for what felt like days in the harsh bitter snow racking his mind of all of his tortures.

I never should have been so malicious to her.

No, Erik. It is true. She doesn't know you. She doesn't know your pain. She could never know what it feels like to be faceless, motherless, and loveless. She does not know what it is like to have the face of a monster. She is imposing on your hospitality by touching your things and asking too many questions.

She would never be in my home if I hadn't rigged that chandelier to fall.

It is her fault she didn't get out of the way.

She can't leave. She isn't strong enough yet. Besides, she has no clothing. She will die of hypothermia before she even leaves the safety of the lair.

Who cares if she dies?

I do.

He really did care. The thought perplexed him. Why was he suddenly caring about someone, much less another woman? He almost pitied her. He cursed himself for being so soft.

As he walked down yet another secret passageway from the world above, Erik noticed that his smaller gondola was gone. Partly worried and somewhat angered, Erik ran over to Christine's room to see if Cecilia was still there. Upon opening the door, he saw that Cecilia has indeed left. The bed was made, the room tidied, and the fire has been extinguished. From the rather cold chill of the room, Erik concluded that Cecilia must have been gone for at least an hour.

Erik cursed again as he slammed the door shut. He trudged toward his chamber when he happened to peer over to his organ and glimpsed the sight of a piece of parchment on his keys. Curious to what it was, Erik hustled over and retrieved the note.

Monsieur Phantom,

I do humbly thank you for your kindness on my behalf. I am truly grateful for your hospitality. I do, however, apologize for my rather unwelcome intrusion. Furthermore, I daresay I further apologize from abandoning your "do not touch" rule as I was in need of clothing in which to travel in, and may I add that you are a man with impeccable taste in women's clothing. Please accept my apologies and the two thousand francs I have placed upon your desk as a symbol of my gratitude.

Sincerely,

Madamoiselle Cecilia Deveraux

Erik felt his anger rise into his throat as he crushed the note in the palm of his hand. To ensure that she was indeed telling the truth, he went to his desk to find two thousand francs lying atop of his mess of papers. It was then he came to the realization that she was gone, and she had attempted to flee from his lair. Then, he remembered that she would never make it out of the labyrinth of the catacombs alive with every trap having been set by Erik to ensure no more mobs would be able to seek him out.

Erik cursed again at his temper and his ever growing softness for women. Dammit! She could be anywhere down here. He was certain she had not been able to find her way out. Sure, she was stubborn and very intelligent, but the most valiant of men did not survive the depths of Erik's madness. With another curse, Erik boarded the largest of the gondolas and began his search for Cecilia.

Meanwhile, Cecilia found herself very lost in the maze of stone walls and water. Even with the candle she has brought with her, she was unable to see more than a foot in front of her which made it even harder to navigate. As determined as she was to leave, she began to wonder if she would ever make it out alive.

As she stared down into the murky water, she found that she was indeed lost. When she turned her head to look at the stone wall, she decided that she had seen it before. She was traveling in circles. This is useless. I need to get out of this boat. As she jumped out of the boat, ready to swim, she found that the water was only a few feet deep and barely reached her thighs. Delighted by this notion, she grasped her candle and began to wade away from the gondola.

She frantically began the search for the way out. She outstretched her hands to feel the stone wall as she followed it, hoping that it would somehow lead her out. While her fingers felt the smooth stone bricks, she came across a stone carving in the wall. Hoping it would yield some kind of clue, she lifted her candle to its eyes and examined its face. She recognized it as an oil lamp and placed her candle into the oil at the top of the carving. Suddenly, the entire room lit up as the fire from her candle traveled through the oil in no less than ten identical stone-carved oil lamps.

A smile crept across her face as she turned in all directions to examine the room. As her head turned slightly, she could hear the faint sound of rushing water. I must be close to the exit.

Her eyes, not adjusted to the light, became transfixed on a flight of stone steps now in front of her. As she rushed and commenced climbing towards the top, her face grew pale and her eyes grew wide with horror as she saw a flood of rushing water progressing to her.

Erik heard a blood-curling scream coming from one of the entrances into the catacombs. As he rowed further toward the opening, he could see a faint light projecting down a passageway. He also noticed that the water became rough and appeared to rise a bit. He remembered his trap and rowed quicker to the point of initiation.

Once his boat came around the bend, Erik made out the vision of a woman in a black cloak lying face-down in the water. Oh no! I am too late!

Erik jumped out of the vessel and swiftly waded to Cecilia's again lifeless body. He contemplated that there was no way she could have survived such a trap in her weak condition. However, as he loaded her into his vessel and breathed air into her mouth, she coughed and showed signs of life. Her still stunning blue eyes stared innocently up into Erik's equally piercing ones and once again closed as she fainted into unconsciousness.