Warnings: Still going to be slash, in case you forgot. The name of the opera where Erik killed what's-his-face might be wrong: I wasn't really sure about it.
Disclaimer: I think I've pretty much covered it at this point, don't you?
Chapter 5: The Phantom's Lair
Raoul woke up to a sound very few who have been unconscious for three days wish to hear. Harsh notes split through the would-be silent air, their vibration alone sending waves of agony through his already sore body. He tentatively sat up, instantly regretting it as he felt a sharp pain in his head. Determined to stop the awful sound, he simply waited for it to pass and continued on his mission. After what was much to long for Raoul's liking, he managed to sit up fully and look around. To say the least- he was not comforted. He was obviously underground; the only light was cast by the many candles that surrounded the area. Many large objects were draped over with cloth, giving them a daunting look, although the rational part of Raoul's mind suspected they were mirrors. To top it off, the gloomy shore was surrounded by a murky lake; a gondola floating at the edge.
He spared a few more moments to examine the place before spotting an organ, partially hidden from view. Determined to stop the noise, Raoul cautiously stood up. With little trouble he made his way over to the offending instrument, briefly considering that the player would not be too pleased with his demands. He pushed aside the thin curtains shrouding the organ and stopped. He stood still for a moment, as his mind registered that a porcelain mask adorned the player's face. He knew the stories; Christine herself had gone on and on about his appearance- but he had never actually seen the man. Fear filled him as he gazed upon the one they called a monster. This man was capable of murder- the night of Il Muto had proven that. Part of him rationalized that the phantom had taken care of him for some reason; the other told him to run for his life. But he did neither as the opera ghost turned to face him. His breath caught as he saw the counter side of the ivory mask. The phantom's face was beautiful. His eyes- if possible- were darker than his ebony hair and had a way of looking through him. Everything was about him was perfect- the only exception being the side of his face where the mask was placed.. Raoul could see how Christine had become so easily obsessed. It was hard to remember the monster when faced with the man.
He was jerked back to reality as the phantom sneered. Realizing he had been standing there like an idiot, Raoul tried to regain his dignity- or attempt to flee. Of all the questions and fears that ran through his mind, only one comment was able to escape his lips.
"That sounds awful, monsieur."
If looks could kill, it would not take the phantom's noose to silence him.