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I regained consciousness several minutes before opening my eyes. Pain was the only sensation I felt. The only thing I could comprehend. I had a searing headache. It was the only thing real to me at the moment. I was vaguely aware that I was on my back, atop something soft. It was my bed. It had to be. There was no other reasonable explanation. Soon I began to recollect the events that had just befallen me. The mirror, the corridor, the masked man... all lies of my mind. I had been dreaming the whole thing. I must have passed out from exhaustion or something, all though, whimsically enough, I could not remember feeling tired in the least.

Fear was the only thing that impeded me from opening my eyes. Uneasiness that I might not wake up back in my dorm room. I forced my breathing to remain steady, convulsing ever so slightly as I readied myself to gather up enough valor to look upon my resting place. Expeditiously, staying prudent the whole while, I opened my eyes.

What I saw did not please me.

I was laying on red velvet sheets amidst copious pillows in a bed that resembled a swan. Every detail of it was intricate and tedious. I could safely assume that it cost as much as my tuition. A canopy enveloped me in an obscuring shield. My breath caught in my throat. It had been real.

It was only then that my ears apprised me of the soft music playing. Delicate, alluring music. I remained still, allowing the music to embrace me. I was instantly calmed. Enough, even, to pull myself into sitting position. Even enough that I gathered my stamina and pulled the cord next to my head, lifting the curtains up around me. I was forced to take hold of the bed in order to stable myself. My legs threatened to give way under me, but I managed to keep myself balanced. I moved towards the sound, already receptive of who I would see. I was cautious not to stumble as I moved through the tenebrous room. Darkness as deep as death.

A multitude of candles shed light enough for me to see. They were concentrated mainly around the aesthetic organ. To my left I saw water, and a boat that must have carried us to this peculiar place. In front of the organ, adding to the mysterious affect, was the figure of the teenaged boy had brought me down to his lair. His back was to me as his fingers danced across the keys softly. I regarded him for a while, my heart racing. So my capturer could not only sing, but he could play the piano as well? I felt strangely angry. It was if the music was mocking me. It was so fragile, so weak...

I took a few tentative steps forwards. My footsteps reverberated around the room. The boy, who in my mind I had started refereeing to as 'the Phantom' whipped around to face me, a malignant smile playing across his lips. "You have awaken then." he said, standing up from the organ's bench and, with one fluid movement, striding towards me. A warning went off in my mind. I had to make sure that the distance between us did not close. I had to get away from harms grasp. But a certain interest held me to my spot. The Phantom moved with a litheful dexterity that I had never before seen a man use. I noticed for the first time that he towered over me. He was about four inches taller, but he carried himself with a certain haughty pride that made him seem to be far taller than me. I did my best not to shrink away under his cold blue gaze as he focused his eyes on me. "I have waited for a while now, Adriane. I didn't know when you would be coming around." no. I had tricked myself. He hadn't just sounded... relieved, had he?

"Let me go." I behested, my voice feeble. "Let me go now." I ran through the story of 1870 in my mind, when the Phantom had kidnaped Christine Daae. Did she feel so helpless? So enraged with her weak position? I had never felt anything but tenaciousness. I had rarely been so daunted, but the Phantom's powerful presence was enough to give me nightmares. He was so close now that I could see the flecks of color in his retinas. I could feel his calm, steady breathing on my face. "I am not Christine. You must let me go."

"And why would I do that when I have finally got you here?" he inquired with a laugh full of malice. He seemed to realize my sudden weariness, and instantaneously he adopted a more reserved, calm attitude. "Forgive me." he said, reaching out a hand as if to move the lock of hair away from my face as it fell afront my eyes. I drew back without a second thought, not respiting to ponder wether or not this might offend the Phantom. He paused for a moment, allowing his hand to drop back to his side. "I suppose introductions are in order." he said, as if unfazed by me rejecting his touch. "I am Erik." he said, with suantly.

"I am, er, Ad-"

"I already know who you are."

"Oh yeah, I forgot. You stalk me."

Erik shrugged perfunctorily. "I have my habits. You have yours. Like writing in your journal..."

I had been overcome with a bitter acrimony the second he admitted that he had stalked me. I was unable to fathom the significance of these words for a moment, and then I realized what this new information meant. "You didn't read it, did you?" I desperately hoped his reciprocation would be a solid, 'no', but as soon as Erik's lips parted I knew that my hopes were in vain.

"It really is a shame there is no phantom." he recited, turning to the right and pacing forwards a few steps before turning back and retreating to his spot in front of me. "Any guy who goes around in a mask and cape has to be se- you don't wish me to continue?" I shook my head, peering at the ground. The last time I had felt such humiliation was nearly six months ago, when I had tripped in the front of the classroom on my way to give a debate. When I had tripped I successfully sent three desks toppling over and the podium crashing to the ground as I knocked into it and groped for the desks to steady myself. Now this Erik had read my journal? It had not been very well composed, but that was not my worries. He knew almost everything there was to know about me. Such information had to be hazardous to my health.

"My habits are generally considered a lot more acceptable than yours are." I retorted savagely, taking yet another step away from Erik as he attempted to grab my hand. I had already made my dislike for him known, yet he did not cease persisting. His indifferent manor made me even more vulnerable to fermentation. "I have never held a complete stranger underground against their will."

"I do not care in the least if my habits are or aren't accepted." he had responded vehemently, running a hand through his black hair with what might have been agitation. "Stranger, Adriane?" he said softly. "Stranger? Perhaps you do not know me, but I know you."

I rolled my eyes, slightly more quiescent in manor and speech. "Do you have to talk like that?" I muttered, turning from Erik in order to take in the scene around me. The channel of water seemed to lead to various other rooms. I could only wonder what they were there for. Certainly one person needs only a single room, and this one was indeed capacious. It seemed that the Phantom had lived a comfortable life. There seemed to be a lot of velvet and gold. Where he had got the money to buy such things that you might only find in the dwelling of a very wealthy family did not make itself known to me, though I knew it would be unreasonable for me to assume he might have pillaged some of the money. He had access to my dorm, why should he not have access to other parts of the Fantome Populaire?

Respiring, I stepped around Erik. I felt his head turn to follow my path. As I walked alee, in the direction of the organ, I was conscious that mine was not the only footsteps echoing through the room. He was a step behind me the whole time. I did not show any signs of discomfort. I did not want to appear vulnerable or uneasy. If I was to force him to let me go, I would not to it by entreaty. As if to make casual conversation, I asked, "Do you play anything else besides the organ?"

"Yes." he replied coolly, stepping in front of me and taking a seat at the piano bench. "I am also familiar with the violin, cello, viola..." his voice trailed off as he looked from the sheet music to me. "Shall we sing then?"

If It shall mean I go free, I thought grimly. I nodded my head, though I couldn't help but wonder if he had stalked me in order to hear my voice. "What song?" I asked, kneeling down next to the bench. I have no idea what possessed me to do so. Even Erik seemed pleasantly surprised, though the coruscation in his eyes nimbly departed and he averted his attention back to the music. His fingers began to hammer down upon the notes, and I knew the song instantly. The violent manor of the first few measures gave way to a more gentle, while still vigorous, part.

"In dreams he sang to me.

In sleep he sang.

That voice which calls to me

And speaks my name.

And do I dream again?

For now I find-"

The playing stopped abruptly. I looked at Erik expectantly, narrowing my eyes ever so slightly. "Why did you stop?" he indicated to where I had left off on the sheet of paper before him. "You must hold out find for a beat longer." he instructed me. Was he now criticizing me? I nodded

irascibly. "Start it over then." I said in exasperation. He relented, though I knew he would have done so without my command. I sang my verse, and this time Erik seemed to have no objections, which I was thankful for. When he started to sing, however, I was unpleasantly started. I had forgotten how authoritive, how pure his voice was.

"Sing once again with me, out strange duet.

My power over you, grows stronger yet.

And though you turn from me, to glance behind, the Phantom of the Opera is there,

inside your mind."

I took a breath before allowing my voice to chime forth, "Those who have seen your face, draw back in fear. I am the mask you wear." "Its me they hear." "Your (my) spirit and my (your) voice, in one combined. The Phantom of the Opera is there, inside my (your) mind."

But to my astonishment, the song did, apparently, not draw to a close there, for Erik started singing. This time, I could make out the command in his voice. The sound that seemed to put me in a hypnotic stance, which forced me to listen...

"Sing once again with me, our strange duet.

My power over you, grows stronger yet.

You'll give your love to me, for love is blind"

I turned away from Erik, but I knew as he started over I was supposed to sing with him. "You'll (I'll) give your (my) love to me (you) for love is blind."

The teenager halted playing, facing me as if expecting a reaction. The only thing I could bring myself to do was scowl at the ground. My mind raced. If I could just make up lyrics to the same song... "I shan't remain with you. In this dark place. I must steal away from this wicked place. You shall bring me back up, where I belong. Away from you, and this lair of song." I can not claim that I enjoyed my lyrics, but considering I had little time to consider what to sing, I was certainly proud of myself. I returned Erik's gaze steadily. He seemed slightly taken aback for a moment, but after a minute that vampiric smile returned to his face. "You are mine. Your chains belong to me." he hissed, though I could see past the illusion. My words had hurt him. He stood, whereas I remained kneeling, head bowed.

"Let you go..." Erik mumbled with a slight frown. "Let you go... and how do I know that you would come back?"

Hey Buddy, I never said anything about coming back, I thought with sudden hope. Would he actually let me go? This would be a story to tell Rachelle... I bit my bottom lip, playing with my yellow livestrong bracelet idly. "Uh..."

The Phantom recomposed himself, offering a hand to me. "Very well. I'll let you go back to your friends, but you must return to me over the weekends... and every Wednesday after class." he decided, pulling me to my feet as I took his hand.

"What do you mean? I'm supposed to come here over the weekends?" I asked incrediously, allowing him to steer me towards the boat on the edge of the water. "Everybody at the school makes plans over the weekend! Don't you think they'll notice that I'm gone? And Wednesday nights I have choir practice, you can't expect me to miss!" my voice had risen a little bit at the prospect of returning here to this wretched place once more. I had to stay as far away from Erik as soon as possible.

"Prima Donna's have choir practice on Thursdays. I'll take care of the arrangements. And yes, on Saturday mornings you will wait for me in your dorm room, without any of your friends mind you, and then I will allow you to return on Monday morning."

"Yes, but the others will still notice I'm not here. Were you not listening? Everyone makes plans. What am I suppose to tell them? 'Yes, my stalker would rather I chill at his place for a while instead. I th-"

"You have already made plans." he responded. Before I could protest, he picked me up, no doubt as he had done when I was unconscious, one arm under my knees and the other supporting my back. I did not have time to utter anything in my defense, for he was quick to setting me down gently in the boat. Once I had moved up a little, he stepped inside next to me, clutching an oar that had been on the shore. Without speaking, he brought it down to the water and we began our slow decent towards my dorm room. Yes, I knew he meant for it to be so slow... perhaps he expected me to speak.

I managed to catch a glimpse of one of the doors that lead to another room. Curiosity overcame me, and I could not refrain from asking, "What's in there, er, Erik?" using his name made it seem as if we were on friendly terms, something which I refused.

"That is where you'll be staying." he antiphoned, glancing briefly to where I had motioned. "I will retrieve you next weekend. It is Saturday evening, but since you seem so eager to get away from me..." I could clearly make out the travail in his eyes. "Well, I'll let you get used to the idea first." he did not speak again as we made out way through a labyrinth of tunnels with intricate designs etched into the stone walls. Before very long, we came to the shore, where a black horse stood gallantly. Its forelock fell afront large, amber eyes. It had no saddle atop its back. It tossed its head back and whinnied as it saw us approaching, its main and tressel lashing out behind it.

Erik once more seemed to insist upon helping me from the boat. As soon as we were on solid ground, I pulled away from him and took a few cautious steps towards the horse. Upon seeing that it did not object, I reached out a hand and stroked the docile animal amiably. "What's his name?" I inquired as Erik came up behind me.

"Caesar." he replied, following suit and running a hand along the horse's crest. I was uncomfortably aware that he was staring at me, trying to catch my gaze... when he saw that I did not look over at him, he seemed to give in. "Do you need any help mounting?"

"If there was a saddle, I would not, but I never was any good at bareback." I confessed, still determine to look anywhere but at the Phantom. This might have been an easier feat given Erik had not hoisted me onto the back of the horse. I was forced to turn to him in order to express my distaste. "I had been expecting more of a you give me a boost type thing, but I suppose it all works." Just as long as I am allowed to leave the place.

Erik took the lead rope in his hand and began to lead Caesar through the darkened corridors of his domain. Now that his back was turned, I found that gawking did not bother me in the least. I stared at the back of his head, frowning slightly. I could not see what kind of a person would choose a life of solitude down here in the dark when there was so much activity going on above. Of course, when I thought of people like James it made a bit more sense... and yet, he seemed strangely courteous, if you could get over the fact that he had kidnaped me. His movement was so fluid and pulchritudinous, as was he... No, he's a mad lunatic, I corrected myself. I felt guilty for finding him anything but a monster for one moment, but there was a sort of dark beauty about him.

The teenager seemed to sense my gaze upon him. He turned back to look at me, with what was very close to a smile. "Is something wrong?" he catechized. My heart leapt. I tended to daze off more than is natural for anyone, which caused me to stare. Nearly every time I did this I was caught. It always came as an unpleasant shock for me as the person demanded what I was looking at, but in the very least Erik spoke gently. "Nothing." I answered, my voice far more harsh than I had intended: not unlike a rose, with sharp thorns protruding from the diminutive stem. "I'm just waiting to get home."

The boy shrugged as we progressed. Before much longer, he halted, turning to face me. "Now, will you let me help you down?" he asked. I stole a glance at the ground. Caesar was very tall... I did not want to chance jumping from him, least of all in a skirt. I nodded, sneering as his hands closed around my waist and he pulled me from the horse, setting me safely on the ground. We were standing in front of the corridor that he had began to lead me down the previous night. It was still illuminated by a multitude of flickering candles, showing me the way back to my dorm. Just as before, Erik offered me his hand. I narrowed my eyes, pushing past him and setting off down the corridor. The Phantom fell in step behind me. I was only slightly surprised that he did not try to take my hand, despite me refusing him once more. Perhaps he was finally learning...

After what seemed like a long while, we finally came to the edge of the corridor. I only realized that I had a one way mirror in front of me when I walked into the glass. "Are you allright?" Erik asked, quickly turning me around to observe my face. I rubbed my nose, but nodded. "Yeah, I'm good." I replied, allowing the boy to move forwards and glance out the mirror into my dorm. It was obvious it was deserted, for he slid it open. Without hesitating I rushed passed him, only turning back to mutter a quick, "Thank you."

Erik shrugged, eyes downcast. I rolled my eyes, holding out my hand to him. He took it, staring for a moment as though he didn't believe I had offered it to him, before pressing his lips to it. I quivered, trying my best not to cringe away. He relinquished is grip, standing tall. "Very well. Meet me here at five o'clock on Saturday. You can't tell anyone what happened, allright?"

"Gotcha. Five o'clock p.m, you mean?"

"No, five o'clock A.m." I let out a small cry of rage, but the boy ignored me. "I'll be watching you. I'll know if you have told anyone." And with a swirl of his cape, the mirror closed and I was left staring at my own reflection, a sensation of relief mixing with a strange feeling of foreboding.

This had only just began.