A/N: Yay! Next chapter. I thought it was really long because i wrote it by hand first. Then i typed it and saw with cold realization that i have rather large handwriting. But I can't write long stuff because I hate rambling forever. I kinda get right to the point.
Meg was turned around harshly so that she was face to face with her attacker. His dark figure loomed over her, candles illuminated only the left side of his face. But as he shifted into the light, she saw his horrible disfigurement upon his right half. Scarred and mangled, almost as if he had been visciously burned. Meg tried to stifle a gasp of horror. For she had only seen him from a distance when Christine had torn off his mask revealing his distortion to the entirety of the theatre.
But...looking deeper, Meg's eyes locked with his, and she saw no hatred or murderous intentions. Only sorrow. The Phantom of the Opera looked down at this intruder and stepped away.
"Where are the others?" He whispered, so Meg could barely hear. It was a voice so unlike the the deep melodious one he had used to seduce Christine only hours ago.
"What? N-n-no one is here except me." Meg stuttered backing away. "They are all searching..." she motioned towards the revolving door she had entered through. Meg didn't know what to do. She had planned a great confrontation in which she would yell and scream and pour her hatred out through words at this horrible creature. But now, as the time came, no belligerant thoughts came to mind as she looked into the lamenting face of the murderer.
"What do you plan on doing now? Come to torment me have you? My life it seems has come full circle." He said, his tone becoming harsh and sarcastic. "Turn me in why don't you? Bring me to your police!"
"I can't!" Meg stated bravely. "You have Christine! Release her!" She said slowly, although she knew this was not true. Christine and Raoul must have escaped, Raoul had to have rescued her, for there was no sign of her presence here in this drafty sewer room. And no sign of her in the pitiful eyes of the phantom.
"My dear, it was not wise of you to come here, but as I am indebted to your mother for the treacherous life I live here hidden away from the world, you shall be freed this time Meg." He said with his head down, his voice tremoring at nearly every syllable,
These words hit Meg like a sharp smack across the face. The Opera ghost knew her name? She should have known, with him lurking in every nook and cranny of the theatre...what else did he know about her? And her mother? What did her mother have to do with him?" This couldn't be good. Meg didn't even want to know what secrets her mother had been keeping from her right at the moment. But then again...
"How do you know m..." Meg began but was cut off.
"Leave now! Tell no one of what you have seen." He cried. Meg jumped at his piercing tone and bolted towards the door and pulled down the lever that would lead her back into the dank sewer hallway. The floor moved forwards and she took one last look at the doleful slouching form of the Phantom. Until darkness enveloped her and she closed her eyes with her back against the cold stone wall. Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm herself. Then, taking a step forward Meg tried to remember which way went back to where she had come from.
Searching the air with her hands, Meg realized with a horibble sinking feeling, that there were three directions she could choose from. Left, right, or straight ahead. A thought flickered through her mind, maybe she should go back and ask the Phantom for directions! Meg chuckled grimly to herself at the idea. If she went back there he would have her in a noose so fast she wouldn't be able to utter a syllable.
As Meg stood deliberating which way to go, something caught the corner of her eye. A finger of light seeped out onto the floor from a crack, low down on the ground by Meg's right boot. As she looked down, a thud resounded lightly behind her. It was coming from back there, in the room.
Meg bent down so that she was level to the miniscule crack. She surveyed the room through it, her eyes flitting about the room madly. Squinting, she saw that the small chair that had been in the corner was now placed more towards the center. But there was no sign of the Phantom. Where had he gone? Silent disappearances seemed to be his forte, as he had been prowling around the Opera Populaire for who knows how long without being caught.
Meg got down on her knees so that she could spy properly.
After a moment or two, he returned. Meg frowned when she saw what he held in his hand. A long rope fashioned into a noose. With bated breath she waited to see what he would do. Who was he planning on hanging? Meg knew she should run away but her eyes were transfixed to him as he attached one end of the rope to a metal loop on a wall. Then he stalked back to the chair and climbed atop it, looping the noose through a larger metal loop on the ceiling, leaving the lassoed end dangling menacingly.
She expected him to climb down and leave the glowing red room in search of his victim. But to Meg's dumbfoundment, he fitted the rope around his own necks and tightened its hold.
Something stirred in Meg right then, though she didn't know where the heroic response came from, she followed it. All she she knew was that she must save this man.
Furiously she threw herself against the wall trying to find the lever that would activate the rotating door. She struck gold. She pulled it down so barbarically that she had thought she may have broken it.
The floor spun so that she was turned to be face to face with the wretched scene of the Opera ghost's suicide.
He saw and she could not decipher the look on his face, confusion or anger? Nevertheless, he kicked the chair away and swung, hanging like a limp rag in the breeze.
Frantically the little ballerina rushed to where the rope was tied to the metal protrusion on the wall. She attempted to untie it, her long fingernails digging into the secure knot. She found herself simply clawing at it. Finally, it loosened a bit and she was able to completely untie it, the rope was released, and the Phantom crumpled to the ground, the rope trailing after him, landing in a puddle at his feet.
Meg realized for the first time, the situation at hand. Relief and a spell of nerves took over her mind, and she as well collapsed onto the floor. Should she have saved this killer? And what would he now do to her.
His form lay in a perturbed silence for well over a relieving moment. Meg feared that he was dead and she had been too late. As she crawled silently towards him, he suddenly pushed himself up to his feet.
"What have you gained now? You have saved nothing but a murderer, you can join me in hell now suppose, for did I not tell you to leave, or perhaps you just wished to mock my sorrow some more before i meet my death, is that it?" He raged thrashing about.
Meg traced the fury into his now black eyes and remembered her mother's warning to Raoul...
Your hand at the level of your eyes!
For in one fluid motion, he had swooped down and picked up the rope. With practiced aim, he lassoed Meg Giry like a roaming cow.
But she had lifted her hand just in time and caught the rope around her neck. It was too tight, she could not lift it off, but it could not strangle her now.
But in his rage at his foiled suicide attempt, the Phantom kept trying to kill her. He advanced and tightened the noose. Meg's fist was pressed against her face as her weak wrist stood between her life and death.
"I-gave-her everything Meg! My music and my love. Still she left. What reason do I have to live now? NONE!" He bawled in his tirade. "And now you have no reason either."
"Stop!" Meg shrieked, but he kept tugging the rope in vain, his whole face contorted with anger so that Meg could barely tell which side was truly defected.
"I-I can..." Meg tried to speak but he jerked her back and forth with the rope so that she could not. "I can help you!" She managed to get the words out by yelling. Unexpectedley, he stopped his furious heaving.
"How?" He said, his face devoid of emotion. "How can you help me? There is nothing you can do. She is gone forever, she made her choice. Who could ever love this?" He motioned to his face as sank to the ground releasing the rope from his firm grip.
"How foolish of me to ever think that I could win her." He brought his knees to his face, and folded his arms, crying silent tears.
Meg saw that the noose was still hanging from her neck. She brought it over her head and dropped it, rubbing the back of her neck where it had burned her.
She looked around and sighed. Then, she dropped down to her knees next to him. Feeling much safer now, for some reason. Inching closer, she placed a cautious hand on his shoulder.
"I can help you get her back."
A/N: So...do you like? Shall i keep going? Only you can make that decision. Sorry if my spelling was bad, i relied on spell check for too long and it has now abandoned me.
