Disclaimer: I own nothing from Phantom Of The Opera- I only own original characters, and even those are questionable…hmmmm.
Lookie! I'm back! After how long? Wow, I think I have been gone for successfully two months…wow, I really didn't realize it was that long. Oh God, I am so sorry everyone! I apparently have no sense of time. Geez- I'm serious- that's bad. Ok, well, hopefully this makes up for it.
I have for you all here a very long post- very good and showing that things could be advancing in the near future- but still long. Hope you don't mind, just couldn't stop writing it.
A Few Thanks:
Juilette Delphe- Sumner, no breaking the mirrors or else there will be mass panic amongst the Opera house, which is no promising. Chandelier incident, remember?
Surf with music- I totally agree, it is time for more Erik and Raylan interaction, which is why you get this chapter and the upcoming one which I am not allowed to expose because then I'll ruin the surprise. As for marching band and the season- it was awesome, probably the best year I have had in marching band. Doing the electric slide on the opposing teams competition field was the highlight of my band career- oh, and we got to march in the Sugar Bowl (which is like the MAJOR football game in Georgia, which was awesome…but of course Georgia lost… one day I swear we will win big time…and the Braves will one day stop going limp and win the World Series). I still miss Marching band, but hey, I have a band class and am first chair clarinet so I'm content for now. So, what's up with you? Oh!
ALSO NOTE TO EVERYONE- THE NEW ATLANTA AQUARIUM (BIGGEST ONE IN USA RIGHT NOW) IS FLIPPING AMAZING! I HIGHLY RECOMMEND GOING! HIGHLY!
Phantomess Roselind- I'm sorry I kept you waiting so long, I'm sorry I kept everyone waiting, but it's hear now so it's ok. Deep breaths.
Alright, so, without further delay, now that I am back, here is the latest update. Enjoy, and thanks for sticking with me everyone! I appreciate the support! Enjoy!
-Olivia N.
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The seasons continued their stately march during the past fortnight, bringing December and with it an unnatural chill to the Opera House, and worse to its watery world below. Christmas was dawning slowly, creeping closer, the taunting season of love and families comfort. Above, the Opera Populaire had transformed itself to the holiday's traditions, dusting away its usual gloom and horror to be replaced by trinkets of color and joy. It's golden and white walls were laced in strings of red and green, its doors adorn with wreaths and mistletoe, and an enormous tree had even been decorated and set up before the Grand Staircase to further the spirit. The Opera's dread had vanished in a blink of the seasons and now it burst into glorious life, all for the sake of this one special month. Yet below, in the utter depths of the Opera's stomach the world did not change. Christmas joys could not reach so deep into the Earth's core, and so despite the life above, the gloom retreated to its depths where it was not forgotten.
Erik sat, as usual, at his organ, the death like fingers ignoring the chill as they glided over ivory keys. The white mask hid his irritation of his guests, both of which were sitting on the step a few feet behind him; neither were adapted to the cold, and insisted upon fires at all hours. The lake was coated in glorious skim ice giving the candles a beautiful reflection as it slid from liquid to ice, and back again, dancing in the draft.
Behind him, Ethan lounged on the step with his back against the wall, two candelabras placed on either side of him. Propped against his knee was a sketch pad, and in hand a charcoal pencil. The boy had delayed to display his talents with sketching until the beginning of the season, choosing to continue to make himself look like a fruitless fool until most recently. Erik had no idea as to why Ethan had never mentioned it. His talents were better than fair, Erik grudgingly admitted-after being forced.
Raylan was also sitting on the step a mere few inches away from Ethan, as always watching Erik play, taken with the music. Wrapped around her shoulders was a thick wool blanket, one that Erik had stolen from Carlotta's room and conveniently 'forgotten' to tell Raylan where it had come from. Occasionally, Erik would pause in his playing to steal a glance at her all wrapped like a package of sheep fuzz. Her hair was free from its usual restraints, full curls gently cascading down and around her blanket and shoulders, reflecting reddish brown tones in the candle light. She was magnificently gorgeous by fire light, not that Erik thought her to be ugly at any time, but this light especially brought out all her luscious colors and took his breath away every time he looked at her.
Raylan turned her head slightly to glance at the stiff back of their host, only to be reminded again by Ethan's groaning that she wasn't supposed to move. He was sketching her, a habit he had picked up again in result of his boredom, when he was around that was. With a sigh she returned back into her former position and glared at Ethan.
Ethan glanced at her, looked back at his paper and commented dryly, "I am working on your face, would you like me to change it into a sneer?"
Raylan growled, "No," and relaxed her features, letting herself be soothed by the music once more. She could feel the tension drain from her expressions, an unnatural calm taking its place to reflect gently over her face. Once again Ethan took to his rapid and yet precise sketching, swift and smooth strokes dragging across the paper in time with the magical sounds that played through the air.
Erik's irritation grew at Ethan's barking commands, and her retorts. They worked too well together, too smoothly. They bickered constantly, fought like dogs, and yet they always made up, and were always willing to compromise to make their friendship work. Neither ruled the other, neither followed, they just worked together every step of the way- the perfect team… just another thing the 'dreaded Phantom' couldn't be with her. To his surprise, Erik felt the jealousy rise inside of him rapidly like a blazing fire. His fingers faltered as his mind drifted into rage and more thoughts of his imperfections; however, he quickly recovered with an unnoticeable blush, not wanting his guest to notice a thing.
Neither of the two seemed to notice their host's mistake. Ethan continued his sketching and Raylan continued to listen whilst itching to move, or talk, or something. She had become strangely desperate for the comforts of conversation between the always guarded mind of Erik and with Ethan acting so oddly recently, retiring to his room at unbelievably early hours almost every night. This night was the one moment in a long time that all three of them were in the same room together, and the fact that music seemed to be the only interaction between them was making her impatient.
Again Raylan looked over her shoulder, and again Ethan cleared his throat as a message. With a huff Raylan returned her gaze, but purposely moved the position of her head just to annoy him.
Ethan suddenly groaned loudly and put his pencil down, looking to Raylan and saying with a sigh, "Are you unable to keep still?"
Raylan frowned, "I'm cold and I'm uncomfortable. My muscles are tensing up, and to tell you the truth I can't feel my ass, so would it be alright with you sir if I could take up a moment of your valuable time and move just a little?"
Again at her outburst Erik's fingers faltered in annoyance. He much preferred the silence to their endless quarrelling, their endless reminders of how distant he was from them…from her. Thankfully, another sound drew his attention and he paused to listen, his superior and highly sensitive ears catching the sounds coming from above. They became louder, the giggling of girls, the complaining of the men working backstage, lights and set, Madam Giry's endless instructions sounding angry as she told a group of dancers to straighten up and try harder. Yes, there would be a performance tonight, and he would attend it…alone.
Ethan at Raylan's bark respected her request, putting his pad aside and nodding for her to take the break she requested. With a small, muttered thank you Raylan stood, stretching her muscle's beneath the thick blanket and rolling her shoulders. Suddenly a loud bang sounded from the ceiling above, both Raylan and Ethan's eyes jolting with surprise towards the cave roof. A chorus of shouts followed the loud bang, and then went silent, returning to the dulled roll of sounds from above.
Raylan then questioned aloud, "What was that about? What's going on up there?"
Erik shrugged, "Someone most likely dropped a piece of set."
Raylan looked to Erik's back curiously, "Set? But it's getting close to Christmas; wouldn't they be let off to spend times with their families?"
Erik gave a dry chuckle, "You think they're given time off? And if it was even offered that these workers would take it?"
Behind his back, Raylan glanced down, feeling embarrassed for not realizing that. How did he always make her feel so much like an idiot? Ethan looked to her and gave a small, reassuring smile before glancing eagerly back to his sketchbook. Raylan sighed and stretched once more before she took a seat where she was before.
"How was I positioned?" She asked as Ethan took hold of his drawing pad eagerly. Ethan took a moment to show her, and once Raylan returned to her position he began his sketching again, all three returning to that immortal silence.
Erik sighed, his fingers taking a more mournful tone from the organ. He spoke then, more so saying it to himself but loud enough for his guests to hear, a subliminal wish to strike up conversation, "It's a shame, they butchered Shakespeare's work to make it more 'socially appropriate'." His fingers offered a mocking trill.
"So it's a Shakespearian play huh?" Ethan questioned, still not removing his attention from observing Raylan but catching their host's words, "Which one did they mutilate this time?"
"Every winter they devote some time to Shakespeare-to remind people of the classics," Again the trill, "They completely destroyed 'Romeo and Juliet'" His fingers danced over the keys producing the opening song to the play.
"So it's Romeo and Juliet," Ethan groaned, "Such an overused play."
"Agreed," Erik consented, "However, it is more butchered than most. The brilliant managers," A trill mocked that idea, "decided to change the plot, so it's not as depressing in the end."
"Oh lovely," Raylan laughed and Erik's playing once again faltered at the sound of her voice, "What are they doing to it this time? The Montague's and Capulet's are seduced by a magical spell from Mercutio who just happens to be a fairy princess and everyone lives happily ever after?"
His trill returned to it's tempo as Erik gave a small chuckle, "No, that might be better though. Romeo and Juliet still die, but due to their children's dying love for each other, Capulet and Lady Montague fall in love with each other, are married by the friar, and live happily ever after."
"But..." Ethan glanced up at Erik, "Weren't they...married?"
"That gets conveniently forgotten," Again the mocking trill with a bass note of annoyance.
"Oh, how...convenient," Ethan shrugged and returned to his drawing, only to sigh and growl tiredly, "Ray, you moved again."
"No I didn't," Raylan protested with a small, sarcastic grin that obviously showed she was lying.
Ethan chuckled, "Yes, because your hair randomly blew itself into your face."
Erik chuckled at their bickering and continued playing, now a game of cat and mouse with the music
"It was a phantom wind," Raylan giggled, "They're all over the place down here."
Ethan sighed, "Yes, and they apparently have taken a peculiar interest in your hair. Raylan please put it back."
Raylan pouted and said in a playful, childish tone, "No." To further the game, Raylan stuck her bottom lip out and acted like a denied, spoiled teenager.
Ethan chuckled, "Look at that lip...and you're so adorable."
"I know," She giggled and pulled her lip back, "Which is more than I can say for you."
Erik rolled his eyes at their childish game as his fingers played "Ring around the Rosie", although he had to admit he couldn't suppress a small smile at hearing Raylan's playful sulking voice. Almost instantly though, his smile vanished in remembering that her playing and fondness was not directed towards him… just like Christine. Now his music drifted from the game to a darker song, slow and trudging almost like the funeral march. From above, his ears continued to catch the noises of preparation for the night's performance. It was suspected to be a full house, the wealthy people of society wishing to catch their last glimpse at the magic of the Opera before it closed for Christmas. Every well respected member of society would attend, and he would join them, uninvited and by himself. "Tonight is opening Night, and I shall be in attendance. Alone," His said to himself, his tone holding an odd amount of finality to it.
Surprisingly, both Ethan and Raylan paused in their game to hear him say that. Curiously, both perked up and oddly said in unison, "Take someone."
His tone grew colder, and the music faded into a dry, dead end. "No, not tonight.Those idiots forgot to pay my salary," There was a sadistic pleasure in his voice and an eerie gleam in his green eyes, "Which I will have to correct them on later."
Ethan cocked an eyebrow and spoke with almost boyish curiosity, "You...you need money to get into the play? But you're the Phantom...or was it you needed money for a date?" There was a pause in Ethan's speech before he added on mockingly, "Need it to buy you a wench for the night?"
Instantly, Erik's fingers slammed down upon the keys in a harsh minor chord that rang out across the caverns with a deadly eeriness. Both eyes focused upon the imbecile in a heart stopping glare. The delicate nostrils flared in anger as the Phantom's breathe quickened. "I have killed for less," He threatened ominously.
In Ethan's natural, stubborn manner he rose to his feet, angrily tossing his sketch pad aside. Raylan rose swiftly after him to try and shut him up before he said what she knew he would...but she wasn't quick enough. Ethan barked viciously in response, "Oh, go ahead and try it. I'm dieing for a good beating of your 'high and mighty' ass."
Erik's glare narrowed into a look of resolution, as his hands disappeared beneath his cloak, reaching for his instrument of choice. His deft fingers found the stiff, dry rope, pinkish in color, and still supple. The Punjab Lasso made its appearance in the Phantom of the Opera's skilled hands as he advanced upon the worthless intruder.
Ethan took a brave step forward, completely ready to take any blow and deliver a few of his own… but just as he took his first step, Raylan grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and forced him backwards. Unfortunately for Ethan, the sudden and surprising force of Raylan's action made him trip backwards, and conveniently fall flat on his back against the stone floor.
"Ow!" Ethan screeched after impact, his hands instantly retreating to massage his now aching back.
The partially startled Raylan stood there staring, unsure what to do except say softly and regretfully, "Sorry...I...uh...don't know my own strength." Ethan refused to look at her and so her eyes instinctively jumped threateningly to Erik, making a final statement that this fight was over.
Erik glared at Ethan as the lasso disappeared beneath his cloak. The pressure of Raylan's own glare drew Erik's eyes to hers, and the sudden anger in her gaze took Erik by total surprise. She hates me, the thought coursed uninvited into Erik's mind, stinging like little pins being pressed slowly into his skin, Of course she does, she's no different, and I threatened her precious, perfect boy. Of course she hates me… that's all she'll ever think of me. Erik's gaze hardened into cold ice, and his lips fell into a tight frown. With an angry swirl of his midnight cape, he turned to leave and in a dark tone reminded them both, "Neither of you are to come tonight. You are not to leave this place." With that he disappeared into the darkness of his own lair, leaving a groaning Ethan and a seething Raylan to fend for themselves.
Raylan watched after him and with a small spit of her own pent up anger, spat loudly, "What makes you think we'd want to go anyways...and with you!"
A groan from the floor distracted Raylan from sending evil glares into Erik's stiff back. She came to Ethan's side after remembering she had hurt him and helped him up into a sitting position. "Oh god Ethan, I'm so sorry, I only meant to pull you back," She said it apologetically, but apparently Ethan wasn't fazed by her kindness.
"Every time Raylan!" He growled angrily, forcing her tender arms away, "You never let me deal with it, never let me handle the situation. What? Do you think I can't? I'm no pansy, Raylan. I've dealt with more dangers than most men can even dream of, and yet you protect me from him! From that...that demon who lives in fear of reality. What is it Raylan? Why won't you let me take him-"
For a moment Ethan paused, not the type of silence that was allowing her to state her reason, but more so the eerie silence of recognition. "You," He said slowly, "You...you're protecting him." Raylan's face suddenly twisted into a look of shock and an appalled mouth opened to protest, but Ethan quickly and painfully rose to his feet.
"I see what this is," He said, looking at her as if she were a freak of nature, "I see what this is."
With that, he turned and waddled painfully back into the dark hall that lead to his distant room, leaving Raylan alone, crouching there on the stone floor and staring after him with the utmost confusion.
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Opening time rolled around, and the aristocrats of Paris filed in, murmuring and talking amongst themselves of dismal concerns and mindless chatter. Vits was backstage barking last minute orders to deal with, the usual last minute issues around the theatre, shouting her commands while someone else did her make-up and gave her facial hair. Like normal, Vits pulled off the appearance of a man outstandingly well- a perfect Romeo for the night's performance. Things were rolling as normal, the average stressed and ecstatic manner of backstage present as always. In no time, the lights began to dim upon the stage and the orchestra did a crescendo into its opening tune for the prologue-which as always gave away the entire play. Not moments later after the lovely narrator displayed to the audience the play's tragic, and now twisted ending because of the 'wonderful' managers, Vits made her glorious entrance as Romeo, and had a 'Holy Palmer's Kiss' with Carlotta-as Juliet. This was all sung of course, allowing Vits's deep, rich voice to ring through out the theater, stunning the audience and only infuriating the twitching La Carlotta.
As planned, the Phantom of the Opera mysteriously appeared upon his darkened throne in Box Five, watching his new protégé with pride. She was good, better than good, amazing was a better word. He could tell that she had easily blown the audience away by her glorious, full voice and the set was up to her usual standards. How she did it all was still a mystery to him- her endurance was incredible. As for the play, well, the tragic tale was conveniently ruined by the edited ending and, as usual, Carlotta's terrible performance. Surprisingly, Chalondra-Vits's mother, conveniently playing the role of Juliet's mother- though magnificent, was easily out shone by her daughter. Erik couldn't help but smile at the irony.
Rested back into his shaded booth, his finger's tapping along in the right style to the orchestra's attempt at music, Erik's mysterious eyes glanced over the set taking in notes. Supreme work, as always- Vits never did fail to impress with her talents. Fine cutting, even painting, and a fairly well disguised entrance and exit gap between two flats that... Erik paused in his analysis as his keen eyes caught something peculiar standing in the shadows between the two flats. Was it a prop? Erik looked closer, squinting slightly to see past the glare of the lights and the darkness in between. No, not a prop, it was a person- he could see the rise and fall of their chest from there, a blessing of superb eyesight. An extra, he supposed and with an unconcerned shrug began to draw his eyes back to the stage when he caught a tiny connection with the person's eyes. Instantly he froze. He knew those eyes, knew them well, but whose? Again Erik drew his eyes to the figure, his vibrant eyes investigating for just a moment, although it didn't take him long to realize who it was. Those delicious chocolate eyes, those luscious and large brown curls, those supple lips and that gorgeously smooth tanned skin left him with no question.
"Raylan," Erik growled under his breath, anger seething suddenly through his veins like s firestorm. There she stood, clear as day between those flats, watching the performance with her wonderfully dark eyes. Oddly, she wasn't wearing her usual farmer girl skirts or walking about in her undergarments- instead she stood there in honest to God men's clothing. The loose white under shirt hung slightly awkwardly along her body, and her unrestrained chest seeming enhanced by the look. The dark brown leggings hugged her curves tenderly, showing off her shapely form, but beneath the hem of the pants she still wore ladies slippers- obviously she couldn't find any men's boots to fit her petite feet. As strange as the concept seemed, Raylan's slender form did look quite appealing in the casual uniform...but it made no difference, Erik found he had to remind himself. Frustration burned through his curiosity at the insolent girl who dared to disobey his orders, but what to do? How to bring the rowdy child in heel?
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Raylan only stayed in view for mere seconds before skillfully blending in with the darkness of the backstage, moving along quickly as to not be recognized by any peering eyes. It was just her now; Ethan had left her side moments after Vits made her fantastic appearance on stage, off to watch his infatuation sing her heart out to an unworthy crowd. Now Raylan slunk along the backstage alone, silently weaving through prepared sets for the next act, making good use of the skill she had picked up when living with the Phantom of the Opera- becoming one with the darkness, its silence and it's secrecy. Ethan's clothes worked well for the task; although large for her thinner frame, the attire hugged at her curves with tenderness, making her movements almost entirely silent compared to the racket a pair of skirts would make when moving around in such a manner. It was actually rather comfortable, Raylan decided as she slunk along; these clothes didn't threaten to squeeze the life out of you like a python as so many of woman's dresses did these days.
As Raylan strolled along behind the set, the silence was suddenly overcome by a short racket of applause, and for the moment she paused in wonder of why the crowd had cheered. It became apparent seconds later as Vits exited around to backstage that they had been cheering for her wonderful performance, a little encouragement for when she had to return to the stage moments later. Raylan drew back, not certain whether or not it would be good for Vits to see her, but obviously she had no choice as Vits eyes instantly connected with her movement and narrowed to show that she knew exactly who was in the shadows.
Raylan didn't even attempt to move as Vits suddenly stormed over, cornering Raylan in her normal assertive fashion and whispering to her fiercely, "What the hell are you doing back here!"
"Vits," Raylan greeted with a half pleased smile, "Shouldn't you be on stage?"
"I've got a minute," Vits growled, and then looking cautiously over her shoulder added, "Don't you know what will happen if He sees you?"
Raylan smirked and said almost mockingly, "He'll get angry, storm off into his room for a few days, come back out, bang on his organ, and then everything will return to it's normal tension filled days."
"You wish," Vits said with a sigh as if she were trying to explain something to a child, "He'll take it out on us-tonight. During the show, most likely Act II. Then he'll get angry, storm off into his room for a few days, come back out, bang on his organ, and then everything will return to it's normal tension filled days."
Raylan laughed, "Why would he take it out on you? You had nothing to do with this- this was entirely Ethan and I. Once Erik stormed off, Ethan confronted me and since he didn't want to go by himself, showed me the secret passage with the mirrors and we came- no big deal- it isn't like we are making ourselves known. We're being very discreet, just getting some air from the dankness of the Underworld- no harm done. Ethan told me he's been getting away with for a few weeks now, so he should be pro at this. Besides, it's not like he knows we are here. Erik always comes back about thirty minutes after curtain, and we'll be back before the last Act begins."
Vits shook her head, not buying it, "He knows, trust me." Suddenly, Vits dipped away into the darkness, slinking back towards the stage, and was heard seconds later on stage-starting another song.
Raylan rolled her eyes and very gradually continued on her stroll. What was the big deal? It wasn't like she was in new territory, or that the situation was any more dangerous than it was before. Besides, she needed some… mildly fresh air. Don't get her wrong, she enjoyed the cool darkness of Erik's lair, but someone like her, always on the move, forever changing- she was never good staying in one place for too long.
Raylan had drifted deep within the maze of sets, past unknown hallways and abandoned props, just leisurely moving along, enjoying the different scenery and sweet silence. The silence was short lived though, and slowly a noise crept forward, his voice whispering in her ear. "Raylan," it echoed off the walls. "Raylan," It came from behind, from her left-then her right. Where was he? Footsteps came out of nowhere and disappeared just as quickly. His tone was harsh, low and cold that sent shivers along her spine. "Why did you disobey me?" The invisible voice asked, "Why did you not listen?" He nearly shouted then, making her jump slightly from the intensity, "Raylan!" In that moment, darkness lay thicker than fog around her, giving off no light
Raylan looked about, not as quickly or frantically as she had done countless times, but instead in smooth, watchful movements. She had learned not to fear his voice- often when it was heard, he was actually no where close- the power of projection. Her eyes still checked every corner, they watched carefully for the faint swish of a cape or the glint of a harsh, white mask. These signs never came, and so she ignored him and continued on her smooth walk, although more cautious now. He could try to frighten her all he wanted, she wasn't afraid of him anymore... she wouldn't allow herself to be. To fear him was the give him the power, the control, the freedom, and that was something she would fight him for until the end.
Whispers without bodies followed Raylan wherever she went, often calling her name-but only she could hear it. Footsteps continued to dog her. Then abruptly it all ceased and silence flowed around her undisturbed.
Raylan halted as the whispers faded into the darkness. Why had he gone quiet? Had he given up and just let her be? No, he was far too stubborn to do that. Had something distracted him? Hurt him? Oddly, the thought caused a sudden panic to rise in Raylan's gut. Where had he gone? Had someone seen him? Oh god, if they did... in her chest her heart began to pound with the power of a thousand drums in the chorus of utter terror, of fear… but no, breathe. Raylan forced down the feeling, stabbing it into the deepest reaches of her mind, and leaving her with an uncomfortable feeling of embarrassment and confusion. Why in the world had she panicked like that, even if for only a moment? Erik was fully capable of handling himself, he didn't need her to protect him...and she wasn't trying to...right?
Something went wild around her, lights flashed about Raylan, subtle lights in different dark colors briefly relieving her from darkness catching pieces of walls, and stairs in odd ways turning them in to nightmares
Raylan jumped like a startled cat, her shoulders arching up and her fist rising from natural instinct. The lights flashed on and off, confusing her focus, causing her to squint from the intensity of a light not seen in so long. Her body gave a shake, her heart began it's thunderous drumming once more, and that awful feeling returned to the pit of her stomach. What was he doing now? Still no reason to be afraid, it was just him doing this... but the sudden light was dizzying. Her eyes struggled to make shapes through the mixture of darkness and light, but there was no use of it. He was a persistent ghost, that was for certain... but so was she.
In stubborn defiance, Raylan gave up trying to make since of the flashes, and instead did what worked best. She came gradually to her knees, resting back on her haunches and folding her hands gently in her lap. Her eyes slid shut, blocking out the confusing games he played around her and focused on the single sound of her breathing, tuning herself to focus only on what she wanted to, her old trick. She was forcing herself to remain calm, being defiant as always.
The play continued to its horrendous end, Romeo had just found Juliet dead, and was how singing his-her last song, about to take the poison-this went on for a good few minutes. Only to have Juliet awaken to see Romeo dead, and sing her song-before killing herself with a dagger-as described in the Prologue. Act Four ended, leading to Act Five, where the Friar tells Lady Montague, and Capulet about their children's forbidden love, and to the horror of Shakespeare's spinning grave, the two adults-one of them Vits's mother- fell in love, giving it a happy ending. To most of the cast's horror, the play was a success, which meant it would be repeated- often.
As the audience exploded with cheers, Raylan's senses spun, screaming warnings in her ears, urging her body to react. Movement, thousands of people moving, she could hear them through the silence, and with hearing it, she bound to her feet. The flashing had stopped, the darkness returned, but not for long. People were flooding from the stage, coming her way. She had to act fast if she wished to be unseen...and so she did. Raylan took off at nearly a full throttle run, reverting back to her amateur days in the Opera of screeching around corners and tearing down halls she couldn't recognize. Halls upon halls, she remembered this maze- the first time she had actually seen Erik was when she had been lost in these halls- and the past came to the present like a slap in the face. Once again, she had managed to gallop her way into being lost, and so once she was certain she was far enough away from the bustling stage, she stopped to try and gather her bearings.
A smug smile crossed his face as the Phantom of the Opera strode down the hall towards Raylan. He could see the fear in her face, and the panic in her eyes which gave him a tad of sadistic pleasure. He had caught her red handed so to speak. "Didn't I tell you to stay in my lair?" He asked mildly with venom seeping into his words.
Instantly Raylan froze and her back stiffened. Damn him! She should have known he would see her, get some sick pleasure in seeing her even the slightest bit vulnerable...the bastard. Her head rose and her shoulders pulled back, her body instinctively puffing up to defend herself against her so called 'predator'. In a smooth, slow spin, she turned towards him, and undistinguishable look on her face. Her tone was an uninviting cold as she responded, "You know me, never have been good with that whole obedience thing."
"That might explain why you've been almost captured to many times," He dealt the blow smoothly, "And it will be why you are finally captured."
Oddly, Raylan took no offense. She simply smirked and said carelessly, "Most likely."
"I hope you enjoy hanging from the noose," He responded coldly.
"It's not as bad as you would think, being strangled... I should know," She returned the comment just as coldly, giving a small twist of her neck to display the nearly vanished bruises from the night he had assaulted her, "You don't feel much."
Erik decided to play the cat's game, continuing on cruelly, "Then I hope you enjoy seeing your dear boy hang first, watching as his face turns white, his blue eyes pop out of his head, and his tongue stick out limply as his dying body swings back and forth like a spider being batted by a cat-for amusement of the pheasant crowds watching. Yes, you'd enjoy that wouldn't you?" His voice sounded amused at the thought of such a scene
Raylan's eyes narrowed and although for a moment she considered controlling herself, her words slipped out before she could bite her tongue. "You're sick," Raylan growled, her tone for the first time in weeks filled with hatred towards him.
"Am I?" And Erik straightened, taking a towering position above her fragile form, "I'm the one who's trying to prevent that from happening. It is you who are deliberately disobeying my commands, risking not only your life but his own by carelessly wandering around backstage. And on opening night! Which draws the largest crowds. What if somebody recognized you and alerts the police? Where else do you have left to run? Your choices are very limited, why else would you have come running to me? And yet you jeopardize the safety I provide you by a meaningless and highly dangerous excursion for fun! Risking not only your life and his, but mine as well. And you think I'm sick when I press upon you the reality of the Hangman's noose? The very fate from which I am trying to save you! I have seen men die from hanging, it is not pretty. I gave that order for your safety, I didn't think you were so careless with your life-let alone his. Because if you are, I shall not bother to look out for either of you anymore." The threat loomed dangerously after his words, expressing his seriousness in the matter and how much he was not willing to take the chance.
For a moment, Raylan held silent, a look of gentle surprise in her eyes, and then very suddenly that look mounted with a blaze of rage. "Fine!" Raylan spat back with the same amount of power, "Then don't! We've made it fine without you for years, we can find a way again! And bullshit, you were thinking about my safety! You don't give a damn about Ethan and I. Do you think I am so weak as to fool myself into thinking you would ever care for me? I know why it is you keep us, and I'm disgusted by the thought! You like having the control over us, don't you! You like knowing we don't have a fucking choice but to obey your every law- you like being able to force us into being nothing but cold statues in your world! All we are is a fucking problem to you, another burden on that heart that you won't let anyone into, another damned thing that needs control, to be taught! Well damn that Erik, this is an agreement- not slavery," For a moment Raylan paused, trying to calm herself, to think straight.
After a second, she gathered herself again and continued speaking calmly, "Ethan and I are not like you Erik- we can not go on forever without a taste of light and life. We need warmth, comfort, something to live for...we can't just freeze over- we refuse to make ourselves that cold again, and that's all it is down there Erik- cold. You don't like us, I can tell. Ethan you obviously hate, and I... maybe I am just a nuisance... but I can't tell with you. You are so damn guarded... and so damn cold... it's like living with a skeleton... and with Ethan vanishing as frequently as he has been... I need life Erik, and I can't find it down there."
His eyes met hers with a long, hard penetrating look. There was a distant sadness in his gorgeous green eyes, so strong that it seeped through the very bitterness of his mask to show before her. "Raylan," His voice was tender as he uttered her name, and for a moment all things that had ever stood between them melted in the bliss of his gentle voice, "I do care for…" And then that moment was gone, and then bliss faded as Erik continued on is almost a mocking tone, "That's not true, or I would have killed you by now." With one deep sigh the Phantom returned to his normal self, saying coldly, "I live alone for a reason, a reason that has caused me to be shunned for all eternity-and will be shunned forever more. I cannot let anyone in, because they will hate me, fear me, and loathe me." His voice was cold and distant, "You are like everyone else in that respect, so don't blame me before you take a good look at yourself. Now, I suggest you return, I hear footsteps-and voices." He gestured behind, where the sounds were truly coming-it was no projection.
Raylan nodded in agreement. It was dangerous to be here now, too public. She took a few steps back, preparing to make her leave as the voices grew stronger, but she stopped in spite of the threat. Her head slightly turned, bringing their eyes together once more as her lips parted and she sighed solemnly. The sigh then curved slowly into words, words that she cautiously let drip from her heart, "I don't hate you Erik... I... I care about you... believe it or not... I just wish you would trust me enough to believe that..." Her voice trailed off mournfully, a sharp pain in her words followed by the sharp intake of air choking own tears. She didn't wait for his response, not having the strength to handle what cruelty he would deal her next. Instead, she spun quick on her heel and strode deliberately down the hall, back towards the coldness of his world.
Yearning eyes watched her go, violent green orbs that now swelled and softened with looming tears. She… she cares for him? Erik shook his head- that couldn't have been true…but then why would she mention him trusting her? He couldn't, not her, not anyone…but she said she cared… maybe she would… "Oh God," Erik moaned, lowering his head into the palms of his leather gloved hands, "Why do you taunt me so?" Questions played over in Erik's mind, an internal battle between what he wanted and what he couldn't have, one countering the other time and time again with reasons why he should and why he shouldn't trust her, care for her, or maybe even lov… "No, never that," He whimpered to himself, and shook his head in weak defiance, "Never that again- not after the last time. No woman, no matter who, no matter what they can take… no woman would ever want me… Raylan would never lov… no… she wouldn't." His head lifted from his hands, and the look of uncertainty slowly drained from his cold eyes. No was the answer to this riddle, the only truth.
It was then that the voices preceded the couple strolling down the hallway, her strong manly body still in costume, and his dressed in dark colors of stealth. They were talking, joking about the play-everything that went wrong, and some of the stuff that went right. They were happy, they were in love, and they had more than he ever would.
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Vits paused to drain a coffee mug that she had been holding, "I wish I put more Vodka in this Irish coffee."
Ethan took and cup and smelled, "How much coffee did you put in there?"
"Just enough to give it color," She responded in a joking manner with a strong hint of truth. Then in a flash of movement, Vits eyes narrowed to lock on the figure in the darkness, Erik as he disappeared, but even her keen eyes only caught a glimpse of his midnight cloak as he departed into the night.
Ethan followed her gaze across to a hall into nothing. "What's wrong?" He asked, searching the darkness with alert eyes.
"I saw," She paused, thinking over what she was saying, "I thought I saw something." She continued on, brushing off the feeling of being watched.
Ethan didn't ignore her words- he knew better than to second guess what you saw in this place. "What did you see?" He questioned, gently prodding her to explain.
Vits sighed, "Him."
"Him?" Ethan thought for a moment before cold realization crossed over his expressions. "Erik," He growled and he halted in his footsteps to look bitterly into the rafters, "The bastards spying on us."
"He's always spying on us," Vits shrugged it off, going ahead to her room and opening the door, carelessly leaving it open for Ethan to enter.
Ethan stood where he was, his eyes still gripped on the rafters. "He has no right," He growled, almost as if he was threatening the ceiling.
"And what are you going to do about it?" Vits asked in a mild bemused manner.
Ethan shrugged, "Attempt to pick a fight with him again and as usual be interrupted by Raylan who's protecting her precious Ghost."
"You realize, her interruptions are saving your life?" Vits disappeared into the room behind the sail, changing from costume to normal clothes as she went.
Ethan entered the room seconds later, closing the door behind him although he knew a simple door would never keep the Phantom's prying eyes away. He spoke aloud, "Perhaps- that has yet to be discovered- but she's not doing it for me... I can tell she isn't. She's...she's changing... and I don't like it."
Vits turned around and faced him squarely, "People change, you can't stop them, and it's a part of life. And, Ethan, no offense, but the Phantom of the Opera could kick your ass any day. He doesn't play fair, and he's lived here a lot longer than you-so he has quite a few tricks up his sleeve."
Ethan sighed, "I know... but doesn't mean I wouldn't like to get one good swing at him someday. I don't like him... I don't like what he does to Raylan... I don't like how he looks at her... or the way she," He paused, turning his eyes to the floor almost in shame, "...or the way she looks at him... makes me sick to my stomach."
Vits shrugged, "That I can't do anything about, and neither can you."
His blue eyes rose suddenly to her, strong with determination and love. "Yes I can," There was more meaning in his words than was expected, and after a few moments Ethan sighed and began to explain, "Vits... I have to take her away from here... you were once speaking of leaving, of knowing a way out... I need to get her out Vits...I need to get both of you out."
Vits took a step back. "Both?" Her defenses went up, she watched him with careful suspicion, "Why do I need to leave?"
"You said you wanted out," He sounded kind, not a threat or persuasion in his tone, "You said you wanted to return to the sea...then do. Out there we are free from this nightmare, this secrecy and this poltergeist that controls our every movement. Don't you still want to leave? Don't you still long for the sea?"
Vits sighed, lowering her guard, "I will always long for the sea, once it's in your blood it stays there. And yes, I will leave, when the time is right. But right now, my men couldn't function if I left them-which would cost them their jobs, and then they couldn't feed their families. Besides I promised to protect the two of you, and until both of you are out safe and sound, I'm staying, how else can I mislead the police when you escape? How else, can I defend you? I can't if I'm there with the two of you. Dealing with the Phantom isn't hard, you just have to learn not to ruffle his feathers-that doesn't mean do everything he asks for, just most of it. He's testing both of you right now, to see how you react, how well you take orders, and so on."
"We aren't test subjects Vits- we're human beings who he is trying to dissect," Ethan found his voice rising, his temper mounting slowly, "I can't stay there any long, I can't stay around him, and neither can she, I won't let her! I won't let her make a fool of herself! I won't let her fall again for another man who doesn't deserve her! I won't let him break her heart!"
Suddenly, Ethan drew back as if he realized he had just said something terrible. He looked fleetingly to the ceiling and then back to her, a small fear in his eyes as he asked Vits in a hushed tone, "You don't think he heard me did you? He shouldn't know, he'll act on it if he knows... and she... she hasn't even realized it yet. I see it in her eyes and she has yet to recognize it... I have to protect her Vits...you and Raylan are all I have left in this world... I don't want to lose either of you."
Vits replied almost coldly, "He hears everything, and his vengeance isn't always immediate, first of all. Second, isn't Raylan old enough to make her own choices? For better or worse?"
"She's being foolish. We promised we wouldn't get attached to-" and then he stopped, taking a deep sigh before adding on, "but I suppose we both are breaking that promise." He looked tenderly upon Vits, his deep eyes holding her own with a gentle kindness, "I got attached... I broke that promise first."
Vits arched an eyebrow with an I-told-you-so look, and a small smile, "Let Ray do this, if it's a mistake she'll learn. But what if it's not Ethan? Erik needs to leave here more than any of us."
Ethan growled at the mention of his name, "Erik is a monster...he doesn't deserve her... and it's more than obvious he doesn't want her... he's drawing her on for his own entertainment, purposely hurting her. He'll never love her the way she needs to be loved... he'll only play with her."
"And what are you doing to me?" Vits asked rather pointedly.
He smiled lightly, "Well I was aiming for romancing...but maybe you're getting the wrong impression?"
"I'm definitely getting that. But what happens when you leave? What happens when you must flee? Those who live in glass house shouldn't cast the first stone," Again Vits walls were raising, again her caution and her distrust for anything emotional.
A frown fell on Ethan's face and he admitted solemnly, "I hadn't exactly thought that far... I suppose I had assumed from your previous conversations that maybe you would have liked to come with us...but then again I suppose living your life with a criminal is nothing you wish to do... seeing as I have nothing to offer but constant running. Perhaps... you'd prefer there be nothing between us... is that what you're wanting?"
"Even if could go with you, I wouldn't. You two can travel much farther alone. Besides, if you're caught with me, I'm an instant hanging," She paused, choosing her next words, "Ethan, I don't want to end our relationship, which was never my intention. I just want to have it based on reality, and not our washings and fantasies."
With her words Ethan's eyes slowly frosted over with a cold glare. "You must like this, knowing our relationship is a dead end. You can love me and dump me with no restraints," There was a strong since of bitterness in Ethan's tone and as the last words came out, he turned away from her, "Nice to know it means so much to you..." His shoulders tensed, an obvious sign that he was trying to contain himself, and his breathing became slow and measured. After a moment of uncomfortable silence he spoke uneasily as if choking back tears, "I... I should go. It won't be safe if the Phantom finds I had gone."
Vits reacted to the bitterness in his tone, and his words. Her back arched as her defenses rose, and she growled in a harsh, bitter tone, "Yes, exactly," Sarcasm dripped over her words, "because I'm so much like my mother."
Ethan held his breath for just a second before harshly replying, "Well, glad we know now." With that he refused to stay any longer. He headed for the door, tearing it open angrily despite the dangers of making a scene, and stormed into the hall. Thankfully, no one was out watching, and so he treaded down the hall towards the chapel, the only other place that he knew of how to get into the Phantom's hell.
Vits slammed her foot into the wall hard. She refused to admit how much it hurt, allowing the pain throbbing in her foot to mask the pain destroying her heart. Why couldn't she hold her tongue damn it? Vits let out a long string of obscenities, followed by another when she discovered her bottle of scotch was empty-she had planned on getting roaring drunk at that point.
"Ray?" Ethan called out once he entered the Phantom's home. Silence greeted him, and only that. The lair was an unusual quiet, even for its regular eerie essence. Too quiet, a dead silence, the type that Ethan had come to know as it bringing nothing good. Bad things happened when silence became too thick, wrong things to… where was Raylan?
Despite his uncertainty whether the Phantom had returned or not, Ethan took off at an instant sprint towards Raylan's room, automatic worry overcoming most of his cautions. He was across the alcove in an instant and began to frantically pound on Raylan's door as soon as he got in arms reach of the wooden frame, calling her name with fear that she might not have made it back. "Ray? Raylan? Ebony, are you in there?" He pounded continuously and was just about to bust the door open in his panic until slowly it creaked open. Ray's red brimmed eyes peered out at him from the crack in the door and although she smiled, her eyes couldn't hide that there was something wrong. "Ray?" Ethan's voice became instantly concerned, "What's wrong?"
Raylan shook her head and ran the back of her hand across her eyes. "Nothing," She said with faked laughter, "I'm fine. Just my eyes irritating me."
"Don't lie to me Ray, I can tell when something's wrong," He whispered, laying a tender hand on her cheek, "Tell me what it is. Was it him?"
Ray shook her head, confirming Ethan's suspicions that it was Erik, although he wouldn't pry for her to admit it openly. Raylan glanced away from him, lowering her swollen eyes to the glinting of the water as she took a deep, grave sigh. Her breathing was labored, Ethan noted, furthering his concern, she always had trouble getting back into regular breathing after a hard cry. She needed some air, Ethan decided, and glancing to the lake, looked back to her and spoke as comfortingly as he could manage. "Come sit with me, you look like you could use some air," He said, and she nodded slowly in response. With tender hands, Ethan took Raylan by the arm and led her to the lakes edge. He placed her gently upon the rocky shore and then gracefully took his place beside her, his eyes remaining locked on her as her eyes drifted across the ice in silence.
Silence stalked down the pitch black hallways of his lair. On cat's feet he crept, yellow eyes glowing, softly lighting the way for him alone. Those eyes narrowed in on the pair silhouetted by his many candles, and reflecting upon his vast glassy lake. The intruder's arm pulled her in close, her dark brown hair cascading romantically over her shoulder. Her head resting up the lout's body, her with him! Anger seethed through him, burning through the regrets of the night's quarrel and the foolish thoughts she conjured in him. She didn't deserve him, not if she would just go running back to Ethan.
Across the alcove, Raylan lifted her head from Ethan's shoulder, using the back of her hand to wipe away mounting tears in her eyes. Ethan waited silently for the time she would be ready to talk and reached out for her again, but sadly that time wouldn't come because Raylan shook her head stubbornly and shied away.
Ethan said gently, "Ray, please tell me what's wrong."
Again she shook her head, and instead of speaking pulled her knees to her chest and looked around for something else to focus on. It was then that her eyes caught that gentle flicker of a white mask, and her gaze froze upon that shadow of a man, peering through the darkness with unreadable eyes.
Those eyes mysteriously stepped into the light with a flourish of a midnight cloak. There stood the Phantom of the Opera in all his glory, anger still seething beneath the mask that hid all. In the light his eyes were a curious emerald, catching and refracting the light in a glorious array of colors with hints of gold. With an air of apology Erik asked, rather pointedly, "Have I interrupted anything here?"
Ethan gaze snapped his way and he began with crudeness in his tone, "Well, matter of fact-"
"No, you didn't," Raylan's gentle voice interrupted him, and for a moment the two exchanged glances that played whole battles out on their faces.
"Ray," Ethan muttered with tiny protesting in his tone. He knew he wouldn't win, not with her when she had made up her mind, but it was in his nature to at least voice his disagreement.
Raylan was quick to make her decision final though and she said in a gentle command, "Ethan...just go."
Their eyes both expressed different forms of pleading, but in the end Ethan did as he was asked. He sternly rose to his feet, allowing himself to give the Phantom one fleeting glare, and then strode away into his hall of darkness, leaving Raylan alone in the room with the man who only hurt her.
Curiosity flooded Erik, but it couldn't override his anger at her for directly disobeying his word. He strode over to where she sat, no tenderness in his steps or his eyes as he asked mockingly, "Did the love birds have a spat?"
"Love birds?" Raylan looked at him crossly, "Excuse me? Ethan and I are just friends, and for your information, Ethan was trying to help me feel better over-" She caught her words just in time, and her voice came to an uneasy halt. Raylan lowered her eyes, trying hard not to tear up again as she muttered, "He was being a good friend."
Her words made Erik falter lightly, questioning all her meaning when she spoke, however, that was only showed on his hardened exterior by a faint flicker in his eyes. Why should he care about their friendship? It's not like anything would happen between him and Raylan. Nothing ever would. Nothing ever could because of the monster behind the mask, because of his curse. So Erik retorted with an eerie coldness, "I didn't know he could be"
Raylan shut her eyes suddenly and shook her head as if she was ashamed. "You never gave him a chance," Raylan said weakly, her voice shaking from the fight against threatening tears, "You never gave either of us a chance." Her voice drifted off into a regretful sigh and this time she turned her view completely from him, letting her eyes drift over the freezing lake, the result of a bitter winter in numerous ways.
The shell inside had cracked from her words and with a flood of memories and constant hopes, his anger and certainty crumbled once more. It was partially true- he had never given Ethan a chance, never let the boy even show a glimpse of his worth, but for a good reason. Without a chance Ethan could never steal her away from him, there would be no repeats from Raoul and Christine. Oh, how he loved Christine, and how he missed his beloved, and how, this girl looked so much like her, and yet was so different. An intoxicating difference which trapped him like a fly to honey, and yet that trap was barbed by bee's stingers. No, he couldn't let her in either, those who saw his face hated him forever, like Christine. He knew Christine's fear, and hate, but he knew that love-given a chance could over come such emotions. Or so he thought, but it wasn't so. Erik would never take another chance like that. He couldn't- a cold heart did not mean a strong one, and he knew he would truly crumble if that heart broke again.
"Have you ever considered why?" His voice was soft and gentle unable to hide the emotions trembling beneath, "Perhaps it's to save you from a fate worse than death. A sight beyond horror. And the monster that lies behind it." He paused letting his quiet words sink in, before his voice gained strength in the fact that he was protecting her from himself. "I am not so self-centered, conceited or selfish as you two think. I must think of the both of you, and how to best save you from me," His tone had slowly returned to ice, a harsh revealing of the truth hiding behind his mask, beneath his midnight cloak, hiding in his mysterious eyes. His eyes which sought her winter earth, the dark and endless depths of her eyes… the one's that would never look upon him with love, never look upon a monster with desire.
With a long glance into her eyes, the look which spoke more volumes than any known speech could, he turned and walked off towards his room, trying to rebuild himself, trying to rekindle his walls and all the things that kept their worlds apart.
Terrible, no? I'm leaving you with a sad ending on this update, I am sorry, but lord knows what the future holds. We will see in due time. Thanks for reading and reviewing if you do, and I'll be back with an update as soon as I finish writing it. Thank and all that jazz!
-Olivia N.