Chapter Four

My head shot up, waking me from the nightmare. I was in my mother's dressing-room, safe. I looked around. The mirror-door still broken but the shards of glass were not there and the trampled roses had been removed. Instead, upon the dresser, there was vase of beautiful, new roses. They were tied together with a black ribbon. And fastened to the ribbon there was a note.

I got up and walked over, reading the letter:

Secrets are not to be told, so I suggest you keep this to yourself, as many people already know about me. I do not wish to have other ignorant little girls seeking me out. If you are wise you will leave me be and stay silent.

O.G.

I dropped the letter onto the dresser. I was angry. "Little girl. Leave you alone?" I said, quoting the letter. "You killed my parents. I will not rest until your body is cold with death…" No tears fell, only rage took over my mind.

I went behind the changing rack and quickly changed into a pretty, pale scarlet dress. Tying my hair back with a black ribbon, I exited the room, in search of Madame Giry.

I walked to the stage, finding Madame Giry instructing her ballet dancers as the new prima donna, Maria Boulet. She was a fair singer, but much like that diva, La Carlotta. I winced as Maria attempted to hit a high note, but I walked to Madame Giry.

"Madame Giry. I must speak with you. Immediately," I said.

She nodded and turned to her students. She motioned for them to keep dancing and we moved backstage. Only a few people were back there, doing things that only concerned them.

"I've seen him," I said, quickly. "But I woke up in my mother's dressing-room. There was a note."

"A note…" she echoed. "Child, give me this note."

I nodded and rushed to the dressing-room. I saw the note just where I left it. I picked it up, and for the first time I noticed there was a piece of black cloth tied around my right hand…the hand I had injured while opening the mirror-door the first time. I studied the cloth. It had been carefully tied. "Hmm…" I took the note and walked out of the room, his face not leaving my mind.

Madame Giry met me half way in the corridors of the opera house. She quickly snatched the paper from my hand and read it. "You must not tell anyone," she ordered. "He does not take refusals lightly."

"I know… That's why I won't rest until the Opera Populair is free of him," I said, darkly.

"No, Emily! You must not return!"

"What am I supposed to do? He killed my parents!"

Madame Giry shook her head. "You will get hurt."

I opened my mouth to argue, but instead I replied with a flat, "I will not return."

She nodded and lifted my chin with a frail hand. "Please. I cannot see you hurt. You are like my daughter. Know that."

I nodded and broke away from her. I sighed. I returned back to the dressing-room and sat down on the bed, my face in my hands. I didn't know what to do. My parents had been killed out of the blackness of the Opera Ghost's empty heart- but if he really was a ghost, then he wouldn't have a heart. Would he?

I fought my mind to its limit, but I ended up returning back down to his world below the Opera Populair. The dark, damp place in which he resided; the place I most loathed.

I needed to face him, though I was worried about the lake. I quietly cursed at myself, for not thinking that over. But for once in my life I wasn't going to give up.

When I reached the lake, the Phantom of the Opera was in a small gondola, his cloak around his shoulders. It seemed as if he didn't have a body.

"I thought I told you not to return," he said.

I pursed my lips a bit. "Yet you wait here for me."

"A child like yourself- I knew you would return," he replied. "What is it you want?"

"You killed my parents, what do you think I want?"

"You cannot kill me. In the end, you will fail," The Phantom said with a vague smile on his lips.

I narrowed my eyes. "Why did you kill them?"

"Your mother, a pathetic excuse of a singer, refused to step down," he muttered.

I stepped onto the gondola and punched his arm. "You didn't have to kill them! What did my father do?"

"He tried to kill me."

I lowered my arms, my eyes wide and confused. "What?"

"I came to ask your parents once more and your father attempted to murder me and I did what was necessary," he explained.

I slowly shook my head, sinking down, eventually sitting in the boat. "What? N-no. My father wouldn't do that."

He chuckled. "You obviously do not know him, then."

"And you do?" I asked, looking up at him.

He said nothing, but began to move the boat through the water.

"Where…Where are you taking me?"

The Phantom of the Opera stayed silent.

There was a feeling in the pit of my stomach that told me to jump out and run, but another part of me told me to stay calm. I was extremely confused on what to do.

When I couldn't make up my mind, I stayed in the boat, waiting to arrive at the destination.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

I gasped when I saw the cave. There was an organ and beautiful curtains. I saw paintings and sketches of the famous singer Christine Daae. I studied them, but soon looked up to the Opera Ghost.

He looked down at me for a moment and stepped out of the boat. He turned and offered a gloved hand to me.

I hesitantly took it and he helped me out of the boat. I looked around more. Behind some curtains, I could see a large swan bed. It was beautiful.

I breathed quietly.

He looked at me. His pale green eyes were calm and intense…intriguing.

"Why?"

"'Why' what?" he asked.

"Why are you so…reclusive?" I moved towards him.

"People are…afraid of me," he said, quietly.

"Why?"

"You ask that quite a bit."

"I want answers. Why did you want my mother to step down?" I asked.

"She didn't deserve the title…not like her…"

"You mean Christine Daae?" I said, trying to get a few details straight.

"Don't say her name!" he ordered.

I shrank back, frightened by his sudden tone of voice.

"See? I scare people. I strike fear into their hearts."

"I must not see what they see," I said, calmingly.

He narrowed his eyes, obviously confused by what I just said.

I quickly reached out and ripped the mask of his face.

He turned and covered the right half of his face with a hand. He turned and began to yell at me. "Damn you, insolent child!"

I backed up.

"This is why people turn in fear! They cower in fear of the monster that I am!"

I looked at him sympathetically. I walked towards him. "I believe monsters don't own hearts…" I slipped my hand under his vest. I felt a small heartbeat against my hand. "There. A heartbeat." I took his hand and did the same. "See?"

The Phantom of the Opera stared at me. "You cannot leave," he muttered, taking my hand away. He took the mask out of my hand and turned, putting it back on.

"Why not?"

"You have seen my face. Once a woman sees my face they can never leave…"

"No. I have to return!"

"No!" he yelled.

"Please…" I pleaded.

He sighed. "If you return, you may never return to the hallways of the opera house."

I didn't say anything. But suddenly I felt dizzy. I put a hand on my forehead. Everything that had happened today was just too much. I couldn't…I couldn't handle it.

"You're exhausted. I'll return you in the morning," the Opera Ghost insisted.

"No- I have to go back, now," I muttered. A small pain went through my head.

He walked over and I closed my eyes, falling into his arms. I was still conscious, but only barely. I was awake just long enough to feel him set me down in a soft, silk bed.

The man under the Opera Populair struck fear into hearts, but was still gentle enough to care for others.

Oh, this chapter sucks… Suggestions? Reviews? I'd greatly appreciate it! The first two people to review get characters in the story! :)