Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Phantom of the Opera (stuffs Erik into a closet to hide him from lawyers). See?

AN: Warning: this has a mild/moderate assault scene concerning a woman, so beware! Also, I would like to mention that, from the small amount of reviews, I'm guessing that nobody really likes this story. It's very discouraging. It makes me feel as though I'm doing something wrong, and I'd like to know what that is. Please review if you have any sort of comments/questions about this story. Thanks! Also, her name is pronounced Alisa (AH-LIS-AH).

Chapter 7: Down Into Hell:

As the limo drove towards the Opera House, I found myself snuggling into Erik's shoulder, which seemed to please him as much as it did me. The sun was shining, the sounds of the city of Paris surrounded us, and as I peeked through the tinted windows, I saw happy couples walking together along the sidewalks. Today, I could count myself as one of them.

Two days ago, I'd woken up in my room at Erik's mansion, confused as to why the hotel room had changed. After fully jerking myself to consciousness, I remembered where I was and what had happened the night before. I could still feel his strong arms around me and taste Erik's lips on mine, and there was nothing I wanted more than to feel all of that again.

I'd woken up, looked down at my sleeping outfit, and winced. Unable to find any sort of sleepwear the night before, I'd been forced to go to Erik's room and borrow one of his shirts. We'd both blushed and laughed in embarrassment at the matter, though Erik had been more than willing to grant my request. As he'd handed the pristine white shirt to me, I felt guilty about wrinkling it up, but he'd assured me that it was alright, and that he had dozens more to spare. I'd given him a thank-you kiss on the cheek and rushed back to my room before I changed my mind and gave the shirt back.

After a quick wash and change back into the previous day's clothing, I made a note to ask Erik to take me back to my hotel so that I could switch into a fresher outfit. That had turned out to be a needless thought, for, as I walked downstairs, I saw my suitcase sitting in the middle of the hallway and Erik standing beside it! Carefully thanking him for his thoughtfulness, I'd changed into another set of jeans and a blue velvet-like shirt before joining Erik for breakfast in his dining room.

The morning meal was a delicious meal of quiche and sausage, though I was confused as to why I'd never seen any servants running around to do any cleaning or cooking. Erik, using the powers of observation, explained to me that he did not like having people waiting on him hand-and-foot, and instead preferred to do things himself. He had a cook, cleaning staff, and other such things, but they lived in separate housing located a quarter-mile away from the mansion. The cook came in early to make breakfast, storing it on a hot-plate for Erik to help himself to when he up; the same was done with the evening meals. The cleaning staff, however, usually waited until after their employer was gone before tidying up the space, though his workroom was off limits.

After breakfast, Erik had taken my hand and led me to the awaiting limousine that was waiting outside, and we were off. To my surprise, we headed back to his office in the Opera House, this time for a thorough history lesson on the building he ran.

For two days straight, I was showered with hundreds of facts over the planning, building, and decorating of the Opera Garnier. The amount of work it had taken to achieve this wondrous creation was incredible, especially since many construction machines hadn't been invented yet. A great deal had been put in place by laborers heaving things with ropes, pulleys, and wooden boards, not to mention the artistic statues and paintings on the walls had to be carefully done by hand. I couldn't imagine how they managed to achieve some of the things they did, which made me stand in awe of those who had worked so hard to make this glorious building dedicated to opera.

The admiration instilled in me by Erik's lessons had an ulterior purpose, though. To my surprise, after one full day of historical learning, Erik insisted that I stay at his mansion instead of the hotel. I'd been shocked, of course, and had protested, but Erik claimed that he would be able to get a refund for my stay here in Paris, and that his house was very big and lonely with just him living there. Of course, my being the soft-hearted woman that I am, I felt pity for him and agreed to stay. However, I decided it might be best to have a few "conditions," just in case.

Before I could list those conditions, though, Erik solemnly swore not to be too forward or forceful in any way. Besides, the door to my room had a lock, and could be easily blocked with a chair so that, even if I thought the worst of him, there was no way Erik was going to get inside the room unless I let him. He also seemed like the kind of man who respected privacy, and since he'd given me the key to my own room, which he told me could be unlocked from the inside, I felt safe being alone with him in his home.

In the end, staying with Erik was the best decision I'd ever made. After a day of being together, Erik and I would go back to his mansion and have a quiet dinner (prepared by his invisible cook), reviewing everything I'd been taught throughout the day. With the meal over, Erik would then take me to the living room for a glass of wine while he played the piano for me. The music, along with the wine and the crackling fireplace, would always put me to sleep, and I would wake up feeling warm and safe, tucked safely in my bed in my guestroom the next morning. Never once did I feel as though I'd been violated during the night, nor afraid of what might have happened while I slept.

Today, tucked safely in the crook of Erik's arm, I felt deliciously content. From the smirk on his face, it was clear that Erik was also happy; presently, his left arm was resting around my shoulders while his fingers stroked my left arm. Never had I felt so safe and loved in my life. It was incredible the way this man, whom I've only known for three days, could make me feel so special and needed. Huddled in his arms, I felt happier that I had ever been before.

Never in his wildest dreams had Erik ever thought that Alisa would stay with him in the mansion. He didn't know what had possessed him to ask her to stay, but stay she did, even though he knew she was probably uncomfortable with the fact that their rooms were so close. Every night, he was sure that it would be her last one there, especially since he carried her dozing form up to her room after and evening of music and wine together. Nothing happened between them, of course, but any rational woman would likely consider the idea that she might have been 'taken advantage of' in her sleep.

However, Alisa remained in the mansion, in her own guest room, and since he'd given her the only key to the room, she probably felt safer knowing that the door could be locked from the inside to keep others out. That did nothing to stop Erik's deep-set fear of her leaving him, though.

As the limo pulled up to the front of the Opera House, Erik reluctantly removed his arm from around Alisa's shoulders and stepped out. Once his feet were firmly on the cement, he held his hand out and gently handed her onto the sidewalk, his heart pounding at the sight of her beaming up at him with a bright smile. Even the smallest smile from her lips was like warm, liquid sunlight on his skin.

'I love her,' he thought without hesitation. 'I love this smart, caring, beautiful woman who treats me as though I am the most wonderful, normal man in the world. She does not fear my mask or whatever may lie beneath it.' He gave her a smile in return. 'Some day, I am going to marry this woman; of that I have no doubt.'

"So…what are we doing today?" Alisa asked as she took his arm and followed him inside. "So far we've only sat in your office and learned about the Opera's history. What are your plans for today?"

"Today I give you a thorough tour of the Opera House," Erik declared, practically basking in the eager gleam coming from Alisa's eyes. "My dear, you truly light up a room when you smile like that." She blushed and gripped his arm tighter, which only pleased him more. "Now, first I will start with the main floor before moving back towards the dorms. Is that alright?"

"Oh, yes," she said eagerly. "I can't wait to see it all!"

Despite having been to the Opera Garnier three days straight, I still hadn't seen much beyond the main hallway, the auditorium, a bit of the backstage area, and Erik's office. Today, my handsome escort more than made up for it through my very own private tour.

Erik showed me everything a true tourist could possibly want to see, dragging me from the tallest part of the rooftops down to the most hidden costume room there was. His musical voice described every little part of space, and how important each little prop and backdrop was to the productions; he also described what sort of work was being done in each and every room we passed by. I was shown art rooms, costume rooms, dance rooms, rooms for the chorus members and instrumentalists to practice in, and even large spaces where the technology crews put things together.

Within two hours, my head was spinning, and I desperately needed to sit down. Thankfully, at that moment, one of the dance choreographers needed to speak with Erik, so I was left alone and sitting on a chair in a prop room, where Erik had been about to explain the significance of each piece there. Lacking any sort of supervision, I took my time gazing around and inspecting everything around me.

Overly-decorated goblets, candlesticks, wax or paper fruit, paintings, and even foam bricks filled the room, and I amused myself by tossing a foam brick from one hand to another.

When that got old, I decided that I'd had enough of waiting for Erik to come back for me. Setting down the bricks on the table, I peeked outside into the hallway. There hung a clock, ticking away the time, and I saw to my surprise that over half an hour had passed. Rolling my eyes, I chose to go searching for Erik instead of waiting for him; considering that he'd been gone so long, and was last seen with a choreographer, I could probably get good directions to him. How hard could it possibly be to find the manager and owner of the Paris Opera House while he was in the actual building itself?

Just as I was heading down the hallway, however, a handkerchief clamped over my nose and mouth. I barely had time to realize what was happening before darkness filled my head and eyes.

For days he had observed her coming and going from the Opera House, her hands wrapped around Erik Garnier's arm or her fingers intertwined with his. It made his blood boil to see them so happy together, and so he had followed them everywhere they went within the confines of the building. Closely, he listened and watched while Monsieur Garnier taught Alisa everything there was to know about the Opera House…everything except for the hidden caverns.

Perhaps Garnier only wanted to protect Alisa from the dangers that lay below, such as the numerous twists and turns that a person could lose themselves in. Or perhaps it was the fact that she might fall into and drown in the underground lake, whose waters were freezing and were inhabited by strange fish and creatures that had not yet been recorded. It was possible that he wanted to protect her from all of these things…or it could be because of something different, something that Garnier wanted to keep secret from the woman he was so obviously falling in love with.

Whatever Garnier's secret was, it didn't matter; all that mattered was that, beyond what she saw in a film she obviously thought fictional, Alisa didn't know that the caverns existed in the first place. Taking this prime chance into his hands, he watched and waited for the perfect moment to strike. Garnier could not be with her all day; he had an Opera House to run and money to make off of the productions. It was only a matter of time before one of them made a mistake on one of their visits.

That was why he was ready to exploit Garnier's weakness: seeing to the Opera House itself.

Each time he encountered a problem during one of his trips to the Opera House, Garnier always had to fix it personally. This kept him in contact with his employees, and made the workers feel better knowing that he cared about them and what or how they did their jobs. So when one of the dance instructors had a problem with one of the rehearsals, Monsieur Garnier left poor Alisa all alone and unguarded in a prop room, promising to return shortly. Eventually, she became bored, as most people do, and decided to go find him, not bothering to look and see if she was being watched or followed.

Then, fully prepared as he was for such an event…he sprung.

I woke with a gritty taste in my mouth and my eyes slightly fogged over, causing me to shut my eyes once more. I also felt a bit lightheaded, but after a few cleansing breaths, as well as a few deep swallows, my head and throat cleared. Once I felt a bit better, I fluttered my eyelids until I could see once again, my eyes instantly glancing around the room I was in.

Now I could smell dampness and hear the dripping of water. I noticed that I was lying on my left side in a large bed made of black wood, the mattress beneath me very soft. There was a very dim, soft, steady light coming from somewhere; I guessed it to be a light bulb, though there was probably only one of them. Opposite me there was a stone wall…no, not a stone wall, the wall of a cave! I was in a cave! Were there caves in Paris? Wait, weren't there caves located underneath the Opera House? I couldn't think of any other place I could be, so I decided to stick with the idea.

Suddenly, it hit me what had happened. 'I've been kidnapped!' I thought, turning onto my back as I wondered why this had happened to me. I nearly shrieked when I saw who, or should I say what, was standing beside the bed.

The light was coming from behind him, but it was human, of that I was sure, as it had the form of a very tall man and was breathing. Although he was completely cast in shadow, I saw a large floppy hat on his head, the brim folded down over one half of his face. Strangely enough, he was wearing a floor-length cloak with a high-neck collar, and he (I was guessing it was a he) was breathing heavily.

"Hello, Alisa." The voice was definitely male, and the cold harshness of it caused shivers to go down my spine. "I'm happy to see you awake."

I swallowed hard. "Who are you?" I whispered while pushing myself backwards on the bed.

A clink sound drew my eyes towards the foot of the bed, and to my horror, I saw that my feet were chained to the bedposts! Gasping in horror, I looked up at the man standing beside me. I watched as he lifted a hand and ran it through my hair, caressing it while he tucked it behind my right ear. After the last strand was styled to his liking, he reached towards the right side of the bed and switched on a light. A sound between a gasp of surprise, a scream of fear, and a cry of horror escape my lips.

The man beside me wore half of a mask over the left side of his face…and the right side was a mangled mess of twisted flesh.

Erik was in a panic. He knew that he'd left Alisa in the prop room, but now he could not find her. He'd been gone longer than he'd intended, almost an hour, as the choreographer wanted to be absolutely sure that the dance piece looked alright, but he had come straight back afterwards.

A thorough questioning of the staff ended with no one having seen her, and now Alisa was gone, probably forever, and it was all his fault! In all likelihood, she'd gotten fed up with waiting and had left, never intending on seeing him again. Burying his head in his hands, Erik fell into a chair in his office and prepared to despair.

"Excuse me, monsieur," squeaked a small voice from his doorway. Erik lifted his head and saw one of the small cleaning girls standing there. Jena, he believed her name to be. The red-haired girl curtseyed and blushed shyly, but pulled herself together to speak to him. "Monsieur, I heard you asking about your lady, and I thought I saw a man carrying what looked like a girl earlier today." She pointed down the hallway. "It looked like he was taking it down towards the old dressing rooms." With that said, Jena vanished in a swirl of skirts. Meanwhile, Erik tried to process the information.

The old dressing rooms had been the original dressing rooms, all of which had been restored after the fire. However, they were no longer in use and were now standing empty, the new dressing rooms having been moved closer to the stage area to make things easer on both cast and crew during performances. There was nothing down near the old dressing rooms, so why had this stranger run down that hallway? There was no place to go…unless…

Biting back a curse, Erik leapt to his feet and ran in that direction.

"Does my face surprise you?" the man asked, his voice full of contempt as he stepped closer. "I'm sorry for the chains, my dear Alisa, but they are necessary." Now he was beside the bed. "After all, I could not have you running away from me before I could introduce myself."

I knew that Erik had to be deformed underneath is mask, but he still had half of a face. This man's face was the definition of deformed, though the left half of it was covered up. The right side that I could see was an odd, dusty shade of yellow that had a coat of gray; the underside of his right eye was pulled down by a thread of skin that was attached to the cheekbone. His lips were twisted and swollen, though they thinned out around the edge of his half-mask, and I could only imagine what his left side looked like; I could only guess that, if the mask were uncomfortable, the masked side was worse. Even his eyes were disturbing, their color a pale amber-yellow around black pupils.

"I won't hurt you, Alisa," he whispered as he bent over me, his hand reaching out to me even as I flinched back. "I would never hurt you."

My throat felt dry as I spoke. "Who…who are you?" I asked in a whisper, barely managing to swallow through the dryness. "What do you want?"

"I have a name, but do not use it. After all, what does a monster like myself need with a name?" he spat before calming down. "As for what do I want?" he asked in an amused voice. "Well, I would think the answer was obvious."

I watched in horror as he placed a knee on the bed, his body coming to closer to mine. I could hear his breathing speed up, and from the way that his clothing shifted, I could see what, exactly, he wanted. One of his hands, clad in a black leather glove, reached out and placed itself on my hip before slipping underneath my shirt. I instantly gasped and grabbed his hand, pushing it away from me. His eyes flashed with a disturbing gleam as he leaned closer, his expression full of need and lust as he reached for me once again. His hands grabbed my shoulders and pinned me down to the bed, forcing the air from my lungs and leaving me gasping for breath as he forced himself on top of me.

"You will be mine, Alisa," he breathed as he leaned closer, his swollen lips coming closer to my own. "You will be my bride, my wife forever." I closed my eyes as his lips hovered a hairsbreadth above mine. "Love me, Alisa, I need you to love me…and let me love you."

"No!" I gasped, twisting away from him. "No, let me go!"

"Alisa-"

The stranger's voice cut off abruptly, and the next thing I felt was him being lifted off of me. Daring to look up, I saw Erik standing there, his face twisted in anger as he toss the unconscious man aside like a piece of trash.

"Erik!" I cried, my hands reaching for him. In an instant, his arms were around me, pressing me closer to his body. "Erik, my legs…he's chained my legs to the bed!"

Erik growled in anger and frustration before gently releasing Alisa's trembling form, his feet hurrying him over to the unconscious form of the other man. How dare he try and kidnap her!

Thankfully, it had taken him mere moments to locate the hidden doorway that led down towards the caverns. Although most of the hidden doorways had been sealed shut decades ago to ward off curious tourists and thieves, Erik could pry this one open with little trouble. The reason he could open that particular door was obvious: Alisa's kidnapper had used it and unsealed it for him. Once he was in the caves, his feet easily carried him through the passages until he found himself in his former home. To his surprise, the place looked as though it were being lived in! Gone were the old, rotting furniture pieces he had left behind as he'd fled for safety, and in their places were new furnishings and even an electric generator! Electric lights were hung in numerous places for illumination, and to his surprise, the air wasn't as musty as it should have been.

His inspection of his former home had been interrupted at the sound of female cry of horror. Recognizing it as Alisa's voice, Erik wasted no time in finding the bedroom in the back of the cave, the one which had previously been his own. Listening at the door, he heard what sounded like a male voice speaking to someone that was probably Alisa. He had been standing outside the doorway when he heard her gasp in disgust and fear, something inside him snapped. Bursting into the room, Erik found the cloaked kidnapper forcing himself onto the woman he loved, and, using his bare hands, he grabbed the stranger, slamming his fist into the side of his head and knocking him unconscious. Now he needed to get the keys off of him in order to free the weeping Alisa lying on the bed. Turning the other man over, Erik bit back a cry of shock.

Before him lay a man in a mask, a poor soul had a facial disfigurement that covered the entirety of his face. Pulling off the hat, Erik saw that at least he had a full head of brown hair, though that probably didn't comfort the other man very much. As much as he wanted to pity the unconscious man before him, a whimper of fear from the bed reminded him of what he was there fore. Searching the man thoroughly, Erik located the keys to the chains and quickly ran to free Alisa before scooping her up into his arms.

Without a single look back, Erik carried his precious love up to the Opera House and to safety.

AN: I'm going to try and wrap this story up, as it seems that no one wants to read it. Please review!