Authors Note: Thank you so much for the wonderful reviews, everyone! I'm so glad you think this story has potential! Admittedly, I don't intend for it to be an exceptionally long or complicated story, just something to vent my ideas into for a little while. Finally there will be some action! Enjoy!
4
The Phantom and the Harem
Little Jammes yawned and stretched, trying her hardest to stay awake or, at least, not get caught nodding off by Madame Giry.
It was midnight and all the girls of the corps de ballet were lined up in a row on the main stage. All eyes were wary, all eyelids were drooping, all tempers were short, and all girls were wondering why on earth the Madame would call them together so late at night. Or, rather, so early in the morning!
Sorelli, who was in an exceptionally foul mood, tapped her foot impatiently, causing the pacing ballet instructor to look her way in annoyance. The Prima Ballerina did not stop.
"Why has she waken us up? We're not doing anything!" Sorelli pouted angrily when Giry was out of earshot, crossing her thin, cream-colored arms and flipping her dark brown hair behind her shoulders.
"Maybe she wants us to practice?" said the naive little Celine of seventeen, her large brown doe-eyes sparkling with innocence.
"Oh, don't be stupid!" Sorelli snapped, turning on the young girl who cowered before the angry woman.
"I-I...was...I..." The little girl stuttered, body visibly shaking from the intense glare the ballerina was giving her.
"Leave her alone," Amy said flippantly, twisting a lock of her thick, black hair around her finger.
"You stay out of this!"
"Girls!" Madame Giry stepped in before Sorelli, who had been advancing on Amy, could do anything.
"Yes, calm yourselves," said a voice, seemingly coming from all directions. The girls all screamed in unison and scattered, some yelling "The Opera Ghost, the Opera Ghost!" while others didn't bother to waste their breaths and just strode directly for the doors.
But upon arriving at those doors, every girl found them to be locked, and great fear welled up inside them all.
"Stop this instant!" Madame Giry yelled above the building chaos and everything became quite at once. "Good. Now come back on stage," she said calmly, and everyone obeyed, glancing wildly about for any signs of the Ghost.
"Was that the ghost?" said Kayla, a girl with light blond hair, striking blue eyes, and fair skin.
"Of course it was!" said Sorelli, turning around and looking about to recite another tale before the voice interrupted again."No stories tonight, my Prima Ballerina. I have a more important task for my girls."
A dark chuckle followed the strange statement, giving each girl in there a spine of ice.
His girls? Amy thought, a confused look on her face. The corps de ballet all huddled together, seeking comfort in each others presence, while Madame Giry stood off to one side, a solemn look upon her face.
Suddenly a dark shadow shifted from the surrounding shadows and made its way towards the congregation of girls. Frozen in fear, not a one of them dared move a muscle. And as that shadow stepped out into the light of the few flickering candles, a gasp of shock and awe resounded from the group.
It was the Opera Ghost!
"Hello mademoiselles," he said slyly, eyes slitting dangerously as he inspected each girl with a scrutinizing gaze.
"It's the Phantom of the Opera!" gasped Meg, hand clamping over her mouth as soon as the words escaped her.
The Phantom merely smiled and advanced, making the ballet rats, as a whole, step back. Growling slightly, he took another step forward, and before they could react, said "Stay," in a commanding tone which left no room for argument.
So they stayed, pleasing the Ghost very much.
After a long stretch of awkward silence, the Phantom finally spoke, his voice calm and seductive.
"I have a job for you, my little ballerinas, and I do hope you will comply." The way he said it made it obvious they had no say in whether they would "comply" or not.
"W-what is i-it?" said Celine after what seemed like an eternity of his silence.
Eyes glinting, he lunged forward, making the ballerina's scatter backward, and grabbed little Celine by the wrist.
She flinched and closed her eyes, body shaking violently as the Phantom pulled her body up against his. "I'm glad you asked," he whispered in her ear, hot breath causing goose bumps on her neck.
He released her and prowled around the girl until he was directly in front of her. Leaning forward until his amber eyes were level with her brown ones, the Phantom smirked slyly and slit his eyes.
"Too long I've lived in my underground hell, alone and in pain. Well, I think it's time I ended that, don't you?"
Celine nodded slowly, unsure of what to say, sincerely glad that the Phantom seemed please with her reaction, as his eyes lost some of their chill.
"I've heard women are a great source of pleasure..." He reached out and stroked the girl's arm with a gloved hand, causing her to shiver even more.
Straitening himself up, the Opera Ghost turned from the girl - who, at being given the chance, scurried back to the group of ballerinas as quickly as she could -, smiling to himself. All were silent for a few moments, then Soerlli spoke.
"You mean..." and she left the question unfinished.
"I want your bodies?" The Ghost said lightly, his voice holding a dark amusement. "Yes."
You could almost hear the girls widen their eyes, smell their fear, and feel their trembling bodies.
"I am no whore!" Sorelli stomped her foot down angrily and the Phantom turned around slowly.
His eyes were glinting like crazy as he gazed upon the Prima Ballerina with interest. "No?" he spoke, his voice the very picture of sarcasm. "You seemed willing enough to sell your body to that stagehand - what was his name? Oh, yes, John Luc - a few nights ago."
Her face turned beet red and she averted her eyes to the floor, glaring at the wood furiously. "How did you...!"
The Opera Ghost laughed. "The Phantom sees all, my dear. You're darkest secrets are a source of my entertainment!"
Sorelli looked up again and nearly jumped out of her skin to find him directly in front of her, mere inches away. She hadn't even heard him approach!
"But don't worry," he said silkily, reaching out a hand to place on her arm. "I like someone with experience." She shivered at both his words and his touch and jerked away, tears gathering in her eyes as she wrapped her arms tightly around her body.
"You," the Phantom said while pointing at Kayla. "Come here."
She obeyed reluctantly, her entire body quavering visibly as she stared down at the floor.
The Opera Ghost circled around her like a predator surveying his prey. He eyed her body up and down, taking note of her gentle, womanly curves and pretty features. Stepping closer to her, he lifted her chin with his fingers to look at her eyes. Ah, what striking blue eyes! This girl seemed good. Very beautiful, to say the least, and obedient, which was a good trait.
Ha! He felt like he were out looking for a dog!
"What a beauty," he mused aloud, eyes smiling as she blushed.
"How old are you?" he asked, mentally preparing a list of question he should probably ask these girls.
"Eighteen," she said softly.
"Do you have any family?"
"Yes."
"Who?"
"A younger sister."
"And no one else?"
"No."
He was slightly intrigued. This girl must provide for her sibling. Interesting...she did seem strong but didn't look the responsible type.
"What is your name?"
"Kayla."
"Ah, how appropriate. Did you know your name is from the Greek 'Keylos', meaning 'beautiful'?"
"No."
She blushed again, and this time the Phantom smiled.
"Kayla, 'beautiful one', my dear, do you fear me?"
She thought for a moment, he could tell by the crease in her brow, then nodded slightly.
"Y-yes...I do."
"Of course," he said matter-of-factly. "Are you a virgin?"
Her blush deepened and she seemed to squirm under his gaze. "No," she said in the tiniest of whispers.
"Ah," was all the Opera Ghost replied, then dismissed her with a wave of his hand. Sighing, he sorted through his preferences in his mind. Surely he didn't need a virgin, but he had read they were better for pleasure. And plus he didn't want to look like a fumbling fool in front of a ballet rat, as it would be his first time.
Turning to the girls in front of him, he slit his eyes. "Who is a virgin?"
There was some uncomfortable shuffling, but no one came forward.
The Phantom chuckled darkly and advanced on the group of girls. "Come now, surely not all of you are impure!"
More silence and uncomfortable shuffling, but then the congregation of girls parted and Amy stumbled out, pushed by the Prima Ballerina herself.
The girl fell into the Phantom's arms, having been thrown with such force, and just stood there limply, a little dazed as everything had happened so very fast.
The Ghost chuckled, still supporting the girl's body as he marveled inwardly at how warm she felt against him. "You mustn't be so eager, my dear. You could harm yourself."
Amy staggered backward slightly, pulling herself from his strong embrace and gazed up at his strange amber eyes. The Phantom, in return, gazed into her striking green ones, neither backing down. But, then again, there was no reason to. The stares weren't intimidating, just...curious.
Slowly the Ghost took in her features. Her luscious black hair, her pale white skin, her beautiful and soft body.
"Ah, the new girl," he said thoughtfully.
"What is your name?"
"A-Amy..." she said shakily, thoughts racing. Just a few weeks ago she had heard the stories of the Phantom and had thought it a load of rubbish. Now she was under the very Ghost's scrutinizing glare.
His breath caught in his throat.
"Amy," he said, looking intently in her eyes. "Beloved."
"W-what?" she said, completely confused and a little frightened. Hadn't she just met this man? Wasn't he supposed to be a ghost or something?
"Beloved, that's what your name means."
She couldn't help it, she just couldn't help her reaction to his words. Amy snorted, thinking about how her siblings had kicked her out because of something so petty as money. Beloved? Riiiiiight.
The Phantom raised an eyebrow, making Amy blush deeply. Sparing her further embarrassment, he moved on.
"How old are you?"
"Nineteen."
"Do you have any family."
"Yes...and no."
Now this was interesting.
"Do please explain."
"Well...I have two older brothers and one older sister, still alive. But, well, they kicked me out of the house because I wouldn't sell myself for money and I came here. So I don't really consider them family, but I guess they are...technically, at least."
"How sad," he said without feeling, but in truth he did feel pity for the girl. She seemed to handle it well enough, though.
He looked at her carefully, assessing the information she had given him. She seemed right. Amy seemed like a good choice.
"And you are a virgin?"
"R-right." Her stammer had come back, probably from remembering why he was here.
"Amy, my dear," the Phantom said silkily, holding out his hand for her to take. "Come with me."
She reached out her hand, but hesitated. "W-where are we going?"
"To my home."
She instantly withdrew her hand and backed away, body quavering fiercely. "You c-can't do this t-to m-me!"
"Yes, I can."
"I'll quit!"
Glaring at each other, the Phantom spoke, his words pure ice. "No, mademoiselle, I don't think you will. You see, if you quit you would have to find another job. And any job - besides one, in particular - is hard to find for a woman, especially of your age. No, you will not quit. And you will do as I say."
She shook more and looked ready to dart off when she took a step forward, sighing deeply. Amy grasped his hand shakily in her own and stood beside the Phantom, gazing back at the corps de ballet with sad eyes.
"Good, my dear." Gripping her hand a little tighter, the Opera Ghost disappeared into the shadows, nodding at Madame Giry slightly as he left, and guiding the stumbling Amy along the many corridors below the Opera House.
She didn't let go of his hand and, in fact, held onto it tighter as they made their way through the winding tunnels. This pleased the Phantom and brought a small smile to his lips. She would do fine, just fine.