First off, I don't own Phantom of the Opera, I only wish I did…(and naturally, characters might be ooc at some point, terribly sorry, just send me a message complaining if that happens and I'll try to fix it.
Secondly, my fic takes place in present day, and the Phantom is immortal (there's more about that to be revealed later…much later). If you don't like that/don't agree with it/don't want to read it, well, you've been warned.
Thirdly, if I make a mistake, be it in history or contradiction with something from the movie/musical and/or book, let me know. I don't mind being told I'm wrong, that way I can fix it and not look like a huge idiot. This bit also applies to French phrases. I will be using them. In most cases, they're very common phrases, or they will be explained shortly after they are said. If it is not explained in the story, I will put a little section at the beginning to tell you what the phrase(s) means (unless it is purposefully meant to be unexplained, which will be a very rare thing).
Lastly, reviews will be much appreciated. They will encourage updates, for as long as I can manage it. (Please please please please write me reviews ppl…I really like to hear from you ppl.) I regret to say that I'm a college student, and when I'm home for summer and other breaks, I can't update as regularly (I may not be able to update at all) due to limited internet access. But I will get your messages over the summer, and will try to reply to everyone. Thank you so much, now on to the story.
"Your husband's a jerk," Rosalyn griped at Lily. "He shouldn't have gone off with her alone, something's going on in this place and it's not safe!"
"What's done is done," Ember said. "Why don't we all go to the kitchen and get something to drink?"
The group crept through the hall, huddled together with the exception of Jamie, who said she wasn't a girl and therefore was not afraid of the dark. They were about twenty feet from the kitchen when the power came back on and light poured into the hallway from the kitchen. They all tensed for a brief moment.
"Brad must have found the fuse box and fixed it," Rosalyn said, sounding horridly unsure and fearful. The girls continued forward, creeping softly as though they were attempting to commit larceny. Finally, they came to the doorway and peered into the bright kitchen.
"Brad!" Lily shouted, rushing forward and dropping beside the unconscious form of her husband on the floor.
"Well, guess he didn't find the fuse box," Jamie said wryly.
Ember saw an envelope on the table and picked it up. It was addressed to her, so she ripped it open and hurriedly pulled out the parchment.
Mademoiselle Ember Parker,
Your sister is now my hostage. This is to ensure that you and your companions will not speak of the events that have occurred this evening. Should you contact the authorities, your sister will be returned to you, dead. Keep your silence and your sister will continue to live. I remain, Mademoiselle, your humble servant,
O. G.
"Humble servant my ass!" Ember roared angrily. Rosalyn ripped the letter from her friend's hands. After reading it, she dropped it, staring at the parchment in disbelief.
"It's not possible, it's just not possible," Rosalyn breathed.
Kathleen snatched it up and read it aloud. "What does he mean, 'the events that have occurred this evening'?"
Brad groaned, coming to. "Brad, are you alright?" Lily sobbed, hugging her husband tightly as he sat up, gingerly touching the back of his head.
"What the hell hit me?" he muttered. "Where's Lenore?" was his next comment.
"With the Phantom of the Opera," Kathleen said softly.
"Wait a second, you're telling me the Phantom of the Opera knocked me unconscious and took off with Lenore?"
"Yeah, pretty much," Jamie replied. "You catch on quick, don't you?"
"What happened?" Rosalyn inquired.
"We went down into the basement. Lenore kept begging me not to, but I didn't listen. I thought she was just scared of getting lost in the dark. We reached the bottom of the stairs and went further into the basement. There was a girl…well, the remains of a girl, hanging from a noose. It's one of the worst things I've ever seen…" Brad shuddered, remembering it. "Then something connected with the back of my head and I was out."
"Thank God you're still alive," Lily bawled, clinging to her husband.
"You should never have gone without someone else," Ember said. "I knew he was here, I should've just told you, Rosalyn. But he said if I told anyone, he'd kill Lenore."
"Well, now we're all in that situation, aren't we?" Rosalyn retorted bitterly. "How did you know he was here?"
"I saw him. With Lenore. Last night, they were backstage, and you heard them. He took her and fled, returning to her room. But I was coming back from searching the kitchen and heard her door close, so I went in. He put a knife to her throat and made me promise not to tell anyone I'd seen him," Ember explained.
"What were they doing backstage?" Kathleen inquired, just waiting to hear that her friend had been making time with the Phantom.
"He was threatening her. That's all she told me. But he was probably trying to bully her into getting us out of the Opera House. God! I should've gone with you, Brad."
"What would you have done?" Brad responded. "You wouldn't have made any difference. He might have even killed you if you'd been down there. As far as that goes, we don't even know if Lenore is still alive."
"The letter says she is," Jamie pointed out.
"We can't really trust that," Kathleen interjected. "We don't have any proof that she is indeed alive. It's anyone's guess right now, but it doesn't really matter; he's holding all the cards."
"And none of us are hiding any aces up our sleeves," Ember muttered bitterly. "Damn, I hope he's going to let her take phone calls."
"Why phone calls?" Brad inquired, wondering if Ember was losing her sanity.
"My mom, that's why," Ember replied. "She's not going to take excuses for why Lenore can't come to the phone. Not for long, anyway."
"And I wouldn't put it past Mrs. Parker to come to France to personally yell at Lenore for not talking to her," Jamie added.
"Can you just imagine her reaction if we told her that Lenore had been kidnapped?" Ember said with a shudder.
"Is it your intention to cut off my circulation, or am I just lucky?" Lenore snapped bitterly after a few minutes.
"I don't wish you to get lost, Mademoiselle."
"Yeah, I'm just gonna go wandering off into the darkness, because I know my way around," Lenore replied sarcastically. "Look, there's no way I can escape; even if I did know my way around here, you're faster than me. I know there's no point in trying to run off, so why don't you loosen your grip? I rather miss having blood flowing in the veins and arteries of my arm."
"Do you swear on pain of death not to run?"
"As foreboding as that sounds, yes, I swear on pain of death." She felt his grip loosen considerably, his hand now barely touching her arm as he led her on. Her arm tingled as the blood rushed through the veins and arteries it had been prohibited from entering moments ago. "It's going to bruise something awful," she mumbled to herself, though making sure to speak loud enough for him to hear.
"Quit complaining; you're lucky I need you alive as leverage."
Lenore stopped abruptly, staring at where she assumed his head was in the dark. "You mean to tell me that if you didn't need me for some reason unbeknownst to me, you'd kill me?" she asked disbelievingly.
"Naturally. Keep walking."
"You'd kill a defenseless woman?"
"Are you deaf, woman, or just daft?"
Lenore bit back a rather profane and smart-aleck comment, deciding it could very well save her life if she held her tongue. "What do you need me for?" she inquired, still refusing to walk until she got all the information out of him that she wanted.
"Apparently you're ignorant rather than deaf. Your life is their silence; should one end, so does the other." He gripped her arm tightly and started pulling her along once again.
"OW!" Lenore cried; his grip was lethally tight and she had no doubt he was coming seriously close to breaking the bone in her upper arm with his firm hold. "You're hurting me!"
He suddenly stopped, yanking her close to him. "The alternative is death, Mademoiselle. Make your choice. If you remain silent, I will take it as evidence that you value your life, pathetic and meaningless as it is. If you continue to fuss like a child, you will see how thin my patience can be."
Lenore stood there, somewhat stunned. He had just told her he needed her alive, and she would have pointed that out to him if she wasn't worried about testing his patience. She was also insulted by his comment about her life being pitiful and worthless.
"What a shame," he muttered after a few moments silence.
What a shame! I decide to live instead of making him kill me, and he calls that a shame? He's a homicidal maniac! Lenore felt tears stinging her eyes as he continued to haul her through the darkness. These tears were composed of physical pain, fear, and disappointment that the Phantom was not what she had envisioned him to be. She would never have thought him to be such a cruel, deranged man. Her tears refused to be held captive any longer and began sliding down her cheeks. She sniffled, wiping her tears away with her free hand.
"Are you crying, girl?"
"No," she lied with another sniffle.
She heard a soft sigh. "Am I hurting you that much?"
"No," she repeated, holding back a sob.
"Will you stop lying to me?"
"I'm fine," she sniffled, tears positively pouring from her eyes now.
The Phantom could see easily through this darkness, and saw the tears on her cheeks. He had upset her wonderfully. He had never truly intended to kill her, though that wasn't something she could possibly know. Despite what people believed, he was not a heartless killer. Ellen's death had been brought on because she refused to listen to his multiple warnings; he had threatened her with death on at least twenty different occasions, but she insisted on continuing to venture underground. Lenore had the intelligence to listen to him, and therefore, he would much prefer to let her live. Her life now depended on her friends, which was quite regrettable.
"Tears do not suit you, Lenore."
"I'm not crying!" she insisted, her voice quivering with the sobs she would not release.
"You have nothing to fear from me."
"You want to kill me!" she argued.
"What ever gave you that impression?"
"You told me to be quiet if I wanted to live, so I didn't say anything, and then you said "What a shame." Obviously, you find it disappointing that I want to stay alive rather than let you kill me!"
"You're bright enough to know when to hold your tongue. Your friends, however, may not be. Therefore, if your life is to end by my hands, it will be of your friends' volition, and not your own. That is what I was referring to, Mademoiselle."
"You don't want to kill me?" she challenged, her tears seeming to lessen to some extent.
"I am not entirely heartless. I would not kill a woman, unless she was extremely foolish and ignored my warnings. You have done your utmost best to heed me; therefore, you have nothing to fear."
Lenore sniffled a bit, but her tears did not slow more than they already had.
"What else troubles you?"
"You're hurting my arm," she whimpered. "And I can't walk anymore."
Loosening his grip, the Phantom looked at her curiously. What reason could she possibly have for her supposed inability to walk further? "It's not much farther, Mademoiselle; another ten minutes at most."
"My ankles hurt," she admitted grudgingly, as though she was confessing a dark secret to him.
"I did not bind them that tightly, surely"-
"It's not that. I don't want to explain, but just trust me when I say I can't walk any further."
Lenore waited in the silence for the inquiry that she knew would come. What reason could a young girl like her have for not being able to walk? After all, she should have the stamina and energy that came with youth. She was taken completely by surprise when he swept her off her feet, carrying her in his arms bridal style.
About ten minutes later, they came to the edge of a lake, and a gondola was sitting in the water's edge. The Phantom set her down inside the boat gently, and she noticed a lantern on the front of the boat. It didn't provide near enough light for her to see anything that wasn't within a three foot radius of the lantern. How can he possibly navigate with that pitiful amount of light?
"I regret that your eyesight is not equal to mine; the sculptures and other artwork set in the walls are a sight to behold."
"You mean you can see in this blackness?" she asked conversationally.
"I find light to be offensive; it is harsh and garish."
"Yeah, I don't particularly like bright light, either," Lenore agreed. "The less light, the better."
"You bloody fool!" Ember snarled.
"It's not safe!" Rosalyn cautioned.
"No, Brad, you can't risk it!" Lily sobbed.
"Stop trying to be a hero!" Jamie huffed.
"You could get Lenore killed!" Kathleen added.
Currently, Brad was in the kitchen with the intent of heading for the steps leading to the basement in an attempt to rescue Lenore. He felt responsible, not to mention that he was a United States soldier and therefore felt highly qualified for this mission. All five girls had a handful of his shirt clutched firmly in their fingers. If he was going underground, he'd have to drag all five of them with him. He was trying to pry off their death grips when the phone rang.
"I hope that's a telemarketer," Ember prayed.
"That's a Guinness Book Record; the first time someone actually wanted a telemarketer to call," Kathleen muttered as Ember's free hand snatched up the phone.
"Hello?" Ember said tentatively. She winced when she received a reply. "Hi, Mom, how are you?...Oh, well, we didn't know that the phone lines had been reconnected yet. We were just so busy; we didn't even think to check…Look, we're sorry, we were just busy…Lenore? Oh, she's in the shower right now…Well, she said she was gonna go to bed after that, she's really tired…Yeah, I'll tell her you said to call…It's going great over here. We're making real progress…"
Lenore was delighted when she saw that the gondola was headed for a cavern that had light spilling out of it. Finally, I'll get to see him. She waited as patiently as she could, but the closer they drew to the lighted entryway, the more anxious she became. She felt like a kid on Christmas Eve, about to die from waiting for so long to see what joys were hidden in colorful wrappings. It was all she could do to keep from turning around and staring at him.
The first thing Lenore noticed in his lair was the large organ. Her eyes took things in randomly after that. A painting here or a sculpture there, whatever drew her eye. When the gondola stopped, she patiently waited while he got out, put the oar aside, and threw his cloak over a statue before turning to face her.
Her lips parted as she let out a sigh of amazement. The white mask hiding the right side of his face did not detract from his appearance. If anything, it made him more attractive, because it hid a mystery. His ice blue eyes bore into her own, and it felt as though he had paralyzed her and switched off her brain. All Lenore could do was stare.
The Phantom held a hand out to her, and her mind produced the image of Disney's Aladdin, when Aladdin asks Jasmine if she trusts him before the magic carpet ride. She wasn't sure she'd be able to respond if the Phantom should ask her the same question. Eyes still locked on his face, she slipped her petite hand into his gloved one. He pulled her out of the boat, and when her feet hit the floor, she subconsciously took a few steps closer to him.
Confusion flickered briefly in his eyes. "Why do you limp?" he asked her. She bit her lip, silently cursing herself. She had done too much walking on her legs earlier, and she had known she would limp rather noticeably the next time she walked; she had been so entranced by the Phantom's good looks, that she had failed to remember this and shown him the last thing she ever wanted to. She decided to ignore that question, as she didn't really want to explain it to him.
The Phantom waited for an answer, but Lenore seemed to have found the floor suddenly captivating, as it obtained the attention of her eyes and robbed her of her voice. He was tempted to tell her he'd make her walk to the bedroom if she didn't tell him, but he had the feeling she'd take the easy way out and still leave him without an answer. He lifted her off her feet once again and carried her to the bedroom, laying her down on the peacock shaped bed.
"What to do with you," he sighed, looking at the girl.
"What's that supposed to mean?" she inquired curiously, staring at him once again.
"Well, I can't have you larking about my lair and getting in my way. The corridors are strictly off limits, as you would get yourself lost. And unless you fancy being drowned by the siren, you'd best avoid the lake as well. Which limits you to this room," he replied. "Is there a particular reason you keep staring at me?" Lenore turned an interesting shade of red and dropped her eyes, mumbling so softly he could not catch her words. "Speak up, girl."
"I'd much rather not," she whispered, her blush increasing. She glanced up and saw his stern glare. "I, uh, said, um…well…that a girl couldn't help but stare at such an attractive man," she finished in a rush before pulling the covers over her face in embarrassment.
He let that one go without a response; any response he could give would be unkind. She did not know the ugliness behind the mask; she could never understand that such compliments were torturous for him because he knew it to be false. He stood and walked towards the door. He paused for a moment and looked back to see her eyes peeking out from under the blanket at his retreating form. "You will not leave this room without my permission, Mademoiselle. Get some rest," he told her, heading out to check up on her friends.