Sheesh! Aye yai yai! Finally got around to updating! Man summer takes up too much time...Thank you all for being so patient with me and in sending your reviews I thank you! (bows) Here's your new chapter!
Lark blinked in surprise. "I…I worked there for a short while, monsieur," she confessed, "but I haven't heard of an Opera Ghost." The child felt thrilled at hearing a story, especially an ominous sounding one. Then again, she felt thrilled that this kind gentleman would sit with her and talk to her about anything at all. She sensed him smile at her and gave a tiny smile in response. "Well," he sighed, "I best educate you on the matter, non?" Lark nodded and scooted closer to hear well. "Where to begin, where to begin," the man murmured to himself. The child didn't mind where he started, so long as he stayed with her, but she didn't voice this and kept patiently quiet. He shifted in his seat and Lark looked in his general direction. "Now this isn't a story I would tell if you didn't want to be scared," he warned ominously, "I'm not going to leave anything out that's frightening." Lark lifted her chin bravely, but felt for the old man's gloved hand and in finding it, gripped it tightly. "I'm alright, monsieur!" she said eagerly, "My…my Mama told me scary stories when I was little. But…" Lark gave his hand another squeeze. "Is it alright if I hold your hand? It's just a childish habit!" She laughed nervously but the man's hand also gave hers a slight squeeze. "That's fine, so long as you're comfortable." He said gravelly. She nodded furiously and tried not to hurt his hand by her tight grip.
O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
Erik was going to tell her everything. Everything! He ran his tongue nervously over his lips. It would be easier to tell her from someone else's perspective as an old man, but he worried that she would ask where he got this information. But watching her….Lark stared hard at him, well, in his direction anyways. Erik felt like he received a blow to the stomach when he saw her fogged eyes. Blind! Poor soul, how could he never notice her failing sight? Why did it come so quickly? Her hand squeezed his and he looked up at her. Oh that's right…. Sighing, Erik leaned back and pushed his top hat further over his forehead. Then he started. "The Opera Ghost was born long ago, in a house in a small town," His eyes were glued to her face, looking for a reaction but her face remained passive. "His father had died and his mother hated him the moment he was born." Lark sat up straighter and her eyes widened. "Why?" she asked. Erik looked at her solemnly. "Because," he said bitterly, "he was hideously deformed like no other human face."
The story came out in a rush, but Erik didn't miss a single detail of anything. Not the gypsies, not the Rosy Hours of Mazenderan, not even the Tokin pirates were left out. Throughout this whole story, Lark would sometimes gasp, but only when it seemed the man she was told about was going to get hurt or killed. He couldn't understand it, but he winced when she squeezed his hand hard in fear as he told about how he, or the Opera Ghost, made the little sultana laugh. Not from the pain of his hand being crushed in hers, but her tangible fear of this Opera Ghost. Later though, she relaxed more and listened all the more intently. Then it came to the part where the Ghost built the Opera Populaire and Lark sighed in awe and became silent again. Erik stopped when it came to the part about the chorus girl, finding himself unable to continue unless he gave out her name. "Who was the chorus girl, monsieur?" she asked timidly. Erik looked up at the mansion that loomed over them and turned back to the girl. "Do you know the mistress of this house?" he asked. Lark nodded with wide eyes. Erik smiled slightly as he continued. "Well, she was the chorus girl. Christine Daae was her name and she believed in the Angel of Music."
"Angel of Music," Lark repeated and her brow crinkled as she thought hard upon this new bit of information. "Are you sure, monsieur?" Erik felt like laughing and crying at the same time, an odd feeling, but he nodded. He then voiced "Yes," when he realized with shame that she couldn't see him nod. Lark looked in the direction of the house, her lips in a small O of surprise. "Amazing," she breathed and Erik could only agree with her. She then flounced to face him again, startling him when she gripped his hand with both of her own. "Go on," she insisted, "go on with the story, I'm not afraid!" You should be. Erik thought darkly but went on to tell her the rest, of how the Opera Ghost became her Angel, how he took her down to the house under the lake, how she uncovered the mask and saw the horror within. Lark remained very still as Erik talked, her glassy eyes revealing nothing of what was going on in her head. "I can stop if you are tired, mademoiselle," he offered suddenly. The child shook her head fiercely and gripped his hand tight. "No, go on." She said in a small voice. "I want to hear it all before," her voice broke but she lifted her head bravely, "before I have to go in." Erik jumped and looked around. The sun was sinking lower in the sky, how long had it been? "Won't you be missed?" he asked in concern. Lark smiled bitterly. "Oh yes, I would be, if they were around. They have gone out shopping, leaving me here with the servants." She then let out a small laugh, but it was hard and strangely cold. "They think I'm troubled in the head, so the servants won't look for me until their Masters come back."
Erik stared at her in shock. What had made her change so? The little girl he knew before was hidden behind a mask of hurt and resentment. He had caused this, he was sure, and Erik felt like punching a wall for causing her all this trouble. Lark sounded scared when she asked if he was alright. "I'm sorry, monsieur," she apologized quickly, "I really am not disturbed, I'm just…" She rubbed his gloved hand over and over with trembling fingers. "Its fine, mademoiselle." Erik managed to say. "I knew a lady who had a terrible temper, but truly she was alright. You're just scared and that is fine with me." Lark blinked slowly. "You know a lot, don't you?" He shrugged and shifted in his seat. "Well now, I don't know that much," he said gruffly, "just enough to get by. Shall I continue?" Lark's face brightened and darkened at the same time but she eagerly nodded and waited for him to speak. "Now, where was I?" Erik said, scratching his head. "At the part where the Opera Ghost was saying Christine wasn't going back to the light," the child answered softly. "Oh," was all Erik replied before continuing. He went on to tell her how Daae was frightened of this new side of her once called Angel, and she had a lover, Raoul de Chagny, who wanted to whisk her away.
He told of their plan, and how it backfired and how the Ghost had taken Christine hostage and captured the Vicomte and made a horrible plan to make Christine his wife. With genuine sorrow, he then spoke of how it backfired on the Opera Ghost himself, and he had set Christine and her lover free to do how they pleased. About the own fate of the Opera Ghost, he remained silent about it and instead said, "That's the end of the story, mademoiselle. What do you think?" Lark persisted though. "What happened to him, monsieur?" she asked quickly, not in a way that one would ask about a tale, but about someone they knew. Erik stared at her and said slowly, "Some say he died. Some say he's still living. I'm not sure, for I wouldn't know, mademoiselle." He stood up and plucked up his cane. "It's very late, my dear," he said kindly as Lark stared up at him sightlessly. "You best go inside before your caretakers come back." He took her hand and helped her to the girl's feet. "Thank you, monsieur," she said shyly, "for telling me the story. I needed to hear it."
Erik smiled sadly and bade her goodbye, turning to walk off until Lark grabbed his arm hurriedly. "Wait!" she cried, looking flustered. "Can you come back and talk with me tomorrow?" He gazed at her. "I want…to share a story as well, monsieur." She explained hurriedly. Erik smiled slightly and bowed. "But of course, mademoiselle." He said, kissing her hand which felt weird with his mask. Lark's face lightened slightly. "Thank you." She whispered and she turned and made her way back into the house, arms out and feeling the gate as it ran along beside her. Erik bit his tongue and exited as quietly as possible and hurried back to Rachel's and Richard's house; they would need to hear this.
Finally we're getting somewhere, non?
Erik: No.
Well...whatever. Please review? (gets Punjabbed)