I should have mad you all wait a little longer for this chapter, but I decided to be nice. I'll let this one speak for itself. *C.E.L
Chapter Thirteen
I am pulled roughly along, how far, I can't say. I am only half-conscience through the whole ordeal, my mind being unable to cope with my shock and fear. I am only aware of the fact that I am being kidnapped. I can tell when we go from inside the theater to outside because of the biting cold, but I cannot see. At some point, a cloth had been tied over my eyes, rendering me blind and totally vulnerable. Again there I feel the change in the temperature, this time from frigid to warm.
A door slams and the vice-like grip disappears. Unable to stand on my trembling legs, I fall to the ground in a heap. My mind finally snaps, giving way to panic and distress, and I lose consciousness.
When I wake, my mouth is dry and I still can't see. I push the blindfold off of my eyes and take in my surroundings. I am in an apartment, roughly the same size and shape as my own. In the corner there is a massive grand piano. I am confused at how the owner of this place managed to fit it in this room, not to mention got it through the door. I barely have room for a couch in my place. I forcibly shake these thoughts off; I have too much to worry about, starting with who brought me here, and why. Of course, I would also like to know where, exactly, "here" was.
I can hear the sounds of the street, so I know that I am in the city, but I was so out of it for the trip to this place that I'm not sure if I was ever in a car, or if we just walked. Surely my captor had to drive me here; even if it was a short trip someone would have seen a man dragging a half-conscious, blindfolded girl and been suspicious. Unfortunately, this doesn't help much. I am still stuck wherever I am, so I decide to continue looking around.
The room I am in is obviously a living room. Besides the piano, the furniture is normal, a black couch, and black chairs. Everything is crowded to one side so that the piano will fit. I see the door, and move to see if it's unlocked, but I stop suddenly. Around the door is a complicated trap with a tripwire. Anyone entering or exiting the apartment by that door would get blown to bits by the less than subtle bomb attached to the wire. That escape route was not an option.
The room did not appear to have any windows, so I was beginning to lose hope of getting myself out. I would have to pray that the police would find me, but I had little faith in them, there were too many apartments in the city for them to just guess the right one and no one saw which direction we went, the chandelier provided enough of a distraction to ensure that.
I start to stand up, slowly, due to a headache. The next room is small, but that's all I notice about it before I register that it's occupied. The last man I would have predicted is sitting there, staring at me.
"Mr. Dashaven?" I gasp, as the full truth collapses on me. I notice two things in rapid succession: one, Mr. Dashaven is wearing a mask; I had never noticed it, seeing as I hadn't ever really looked at him, and I noticed that behind him is a wall of photos with one thing in common. I am in every single one of them.
"Elise, my love, there's no need to be so formal." He chides softly, "You may call me Ethan." I hardly acknowledge that he is speaking; my eyes are fixed on the mask. It is black leather and it covers only one half of his face. He is still staring at me, as though waiting for an answer.
"Why did you bring me here? What do you want?" Even as I ask, I fear that I know the answer.
"Elise, I want you. Your company, your voice, you are perfection on earth." Mr. Dashaven is insane, that statement was all I needed to confirm it. He was the one who had been stalking me and sending the pictures that had haunted me for so long.
"You kidnapped me, you were stalking me, and sending the photos, it was you all along, not Eric. Rom and I both thought that it was him." My voice is unsteady, and my words a jumbled mess. Nothing I am saying makes sense to me.
Mr. Dashaven's eyes flashed dangerously, "Do not say his name in my home. That stupid boy almost ruined all my plans. You were perfect, and then he came along with the intent to spoil you." I am too afraid of his tone to comment that Rom did not really intend to "spoil" me, he believed in waiting just as much as I did. "As for the photos I sent, they were meant only as a warning. I wanted to send other pictures, but I couldn't bear to part with them. You are beautiful, and I needed the pictures to look at you when you were gone." I couldn't breathe anymore. I couldn't react to his words, I was so afraid. "Elise, I have loved you since the moment I heard you sing. Your voice captivated me, and your beauty enthralls me still. You are my Christine."
I finally found my voice, "Christine is a fictional character, and "The Phantom of the Opera" is just a story, a legend. I am not Christine; I play Christine when I'm onstage." I draw to a stuttering halt, unable to find more words.
"The story could be true," he says, standing slowly, "If there was a masked man and a beautiful singer, if the singer could be brought to the man's home. Nothing in the story is very absurd, my dear. In fact, there are many who say that most of the story is true." He begins to walk toward me, his pace glacial. "There is only one flaw in the story, one part that I will fix. Erik is a fool to let her go. She is willing to stay, and he lets her go. I will not make the same mistake." As he finishes he comes to a stop, right in front of me, standing so close I only have to lean forward a little bit to put my head on his chest. Terror sings through my veins, coursing through my system as fast as my blood.
"She stays because she wants to save the man she loves. Her choice was to marry him or let Raoul and all the people in the Opera die. He realized how wrong it was to put her through that and let her go. He did the right thing." I desperately begged him to see sense.
He shakes his head, smiling slightly, as though I'm a simpleton. "My dear, nothing you say will change my mind, you are staying with me. Eventually you will learn to love me." With those words my last hope fled and I did something that was as crazy as his infatuation with me. I punched him. And as my fist connected with his face Ethan's mask fell off, landing between us on the floor.
He hesitated, shocked at what I had done. This hesitation was all I needed to see what was under the mask. Across Ethan's cheek was a spider-web of scars, each one crossing the other and forming an intricate pattern that spanned all across the side of his face, ending just below the corner of his mouth, stretching to almost his hairline.
"How dare you?" He roared, gripping my shoulders in a cruelly firm grip. "How dare you look at me with you perfect eyes? This sight could ruin you! You perfection should not be tainted by what lies under my mask. Elise, you should have known better." His words faded slowly until, at the last word, he was whispering.
The words that had died in my mouth before came back to life with a vengeance, ripping from my lips in fury, "You ask me 'how dare I?' But don't seem to question your right to kidnap me and hold me hostage. I think that if either of us has a right to be angry it is me. You've looked me in the eye and told me that you won't let me leave, you've stalked me for almost a year, and you've threatened and most likely attacked the man I'm in love with, and here you are, asking me how I dare. You really do think you're entitled, don't you?" I ran out of breath at the end of my tirade. My anger ebbed away, fear moving in to take its place. He stared at me for what felt like hours.
"I am not lying when I say that I will not let you leave. Because of that, I will tell you of my past. How the monster that stands before you became what he is. I cannot take your future without at least giving you that." And, replacing his mask; he began his story. A story that I wondered if I would regret hearing.