Chapter Five: Down Once More.
The phantom paced around his dimly lit lair, wondering how he was going to handle this little issue. It was getting progressively harder to focus on Christine, when he was looking behind him every five minutes to make sure he wasn't being followed. Twice now he had returned to his lair and found her sneaking around. He assumed that after the first time she would be to frightened to even think about returning .Obviously that was not the case. She even had the audacity to eavesdrop on Christine and his private conversation. Granted he was certain that she heard nothing of value, but what irritated him was that she was going to run of to tell Madame Giry about it. Now, the old woman was the only one who knew about him teaching Christine, she didn't mind much, she just told him not to take it to far. Now that the girl knew about it, they could be caught any moment. Now, just to add to the stress, his manager is retiring. He probably had enough of the red haired diva's antics. He is to be replaced by to imbeciles who have had good luck in the junk business. And to make matters even worse their patron is the very vicomte that his Christine was in love with as a child. Now not only is his possibility of finally having her fall in love with him at risk, but as is her singing career if she gets distracted by him.
He snatched up a figurine and threw it at the nearest mirror,shattering it into a billion pieces.
Shit. He exclaimed. The glass flew everywhere
"She will regret ever meeting the Phantom of The Opera." A little gasp interupted his idle threats. She was awake. And now was the best time to try to get rid of her for good. He put his mask back on the deformed side of his face, he tended to look more threatening with it covered rather then out for the world to see. When exposed It made people pity him. He never sought pity, only companionship, But that desire was long gone. He soon realized that when you were feared you were much more respected then if you were we'll liked. He took a deep breath to clear his thoughts to be sure he could confront her without harming her. Contrary to popular beleif he took no pleasure In killing, it was just the simplest way to fix a problem. And even if somebody told the police who killed the person, well, who would belive that it was a 'phantom'. More than likely they would just laugh at the person and tell them to go tell their stories elsewhere. Which is why, he still prefers terrorism to actual murder. He lived to see the fear in their eyes when he threatened them or the panic when he caused a catastrophe. Like last night, when he collapsed a scene background on top of the diva herself, He had smiled sadisticly from his hiding spot in box five. Seeing their faces looking around for the perpetrator and finding no one, was something he would never tire of. They immediately called for the stage manager Buquet and demanded to know what was going on up there . To which he responded that it must have been a ghost. That caused everyone to look frantically for it. The new managers, who he expected to be just as scared as the others, merely laughed at the reactions and tried to convince the others that it was nothing more than a really bad joke. Carlotta stormed off and they were in a panic trying to find a replacement for her. So they were of course outraged when Madame Giry read his 'welcome letter' to them. He had never seen two faces go that red with rage, not even his own. It's not like he asked for anything absurd. Only his continued 20,000 francs a month and that they continue to leave box five at his disposal. Giry informed them of Christine's perfect ability to sing the aria that the insane woman was going to recite before she left. She did brilliantly of course, and got the part he knew she was destined to get. But then he returns to his lair to find the door open and a strange girl by his lake. he should have killed her right then and there but he decided to put the fear of god into her by knocking her out, chaining her up, and and giving her the choice few have had, to leave quietly. But he didn't recognize his own strengin those moments and when he tightened the rope around her neck to make her pass out again he noticed a light handprint around her throat. He quickly grabbed a cream that one of is very few friends had brought him for his burns. The man also told him that it would help fade bruises a bit. He evenly applied it to her neck before calling Madame Giry to clear the way for him so that he could dump her on the stage, that of course was his original plan. Of course the old woman gave him a threatening glare that only a mother, or in this case a mother like figure, could pull off. He replied in an equally threatening voice that she needs to keep her dancers in check and to keep them from gossiping about him. He picked the girl up and told the woman to clear the way to the stage he would leave her there to wake up. He ended up carrying her all the way to her room. It was just easier that way. She would pass this all off as a dream and never come looking for him again. at least, thats what he hoped. His plan of course failed. She remembered it all quite well and was even brave enough to bring her note all the way down to lair. That was the second time she had invaded his lair, and the third time she invaded his privacy.
Sophie's POV
A voice slowly invaded Sophie's peaceful sleep. "Irritating... Disrespectful... No concept of personal space... Need to get .. of..." Why is there a man in the dormitories. She thought to herself. Madame Giry will have a fit.
"Distracting...Christine. " Wait, did he say Christine. Her name threw a truckload of memories right back in her face. Notes. The phantom threatened her. She wrote him a note telling him that he didn't scare her. Taking the note back to the underground lake. But she couldn't, for anything, recall going back up. Then a dull ache on the back of her head reminded her that she ended up upside down.
Merde. She whispered to herself. She got caught. Again. God knows he will be very angry. Who knows what will happen to her. Would he kill her when he saw she had woken up . She started to panic and look around the strangely decorated room. this was not the dormitories it was much darker. there was no windows, just red curtains covering walls. She could hear the man much more clearly now. He was ranting about something. She quietly lifted herself out of bed one leg at a time, praying that she wouldn't alert him. Once she was out of the bed she began to walk around the little room, which was only separated from the other by a sheer curtain . She turned around, facing away from the makeshift doorway and saw that there was what looked to be a hollow place in the wall covered by another curtain. she walked toward it and pulled the fabric aside. She let out a gasp of shock. There, behind the heavy cloth was a life size statue of Christine wearing a wedding dress made of beautiful white cotton. It was all there. The shoes, the veil, the corset. Everything. What was this man doing with this?
How did Christine know him? What were his intentions with Christine? What would he do with her?
Suddenly, everything started to click into place. There were no windows because she was underground. She was still in the phantoms lair. And he was right on the other side of the curtain. She was trapped. There was no way out. Then she heard a throat clear. She spun around and saw the white mask of the phantom. And on the opposite side was a beautiful face distorted by an ugly smirk.
He took a deep breath.
"Didn't anyone tell you not to look in other people's things. "
She started to apologize and beg him to let her go but he began to advance on her.
"You have listened to my most private conversations. You have invaded my privacy. You continue to blatantly deny me when I was so lenient to let you go the first time. And when I found you sleeping in that hallway after you ran to tell Madame Giry about Christine's conversation with me I could have easily killed you without a second thought or an ounce of regret. I have been merciful so far and you are spreading it very thin." By this time she was once again cornered by the mad man. But this time, she would not go down without a fight. She looked right in his eyes which were clouded with rage. She raised her head high and took a long breath.
" Monsieur Phantom, you cannot expect me to not be the least bit curious as to why you are taking your time with her. I appreciate you not killing me, but you have to realize that I will keep coming back until I get what I want. " Her heart was pounding in her ears and her every sense was heightened. She could feel his breath washing over her face. She could see every emotion flash across his face. Rage. Irritation. His control was slipping. She used this opportunity to dart to the side. He spun around and grabbed her by her hair.
"You have out stayed your welcome. I specifically told you to never come back here, And yet you do. You are the most infuriating, disobedient, child I have ever-"
"I am not a child. " She yelled. She was tired of being treated like a 6 year old.
"You are to me. You are a child who doesn't know when to step down. " His body was shaking.
That was it for Sophie. She balled up her hand into a fist and swung at him. She landed a pretty good shot for never punching anyone before.
"You little bitch. " he momentarily released her hair to hold the spot her fist hit on his face. She took that moment to run as fast as she could out of that room. Everything was blurry. She ran up a couple stairs and glanced back and saw he was in close pursuit. She sprinted past an organ. And was then faced with a similar situation as she was in a few days ago. She had to jump in the lake again. She looked across and saw it was quite far. But she had too. With a final breath she jumped into the freezing lake and swam like her life depended on it. She could feel the cold in deep in her bones every stroke was getting harder. But she kept going.
Just a little farther.
Just a little bit more. She kept chanting to herself. But after mere minutes she just couldn't do it any more. She felt a warm dark fog approach. She felt heavy. She couldn't move any of her limbs. She started to panic. This can't be the end, she thought. Not now. Then out of the darkness, she felt two arms grab her torso and drag her up on what felt like a wooden boat. Then she felt nothing. Once again she had passed out.
A.N. Hiya, I have some terrible terrible news. I have a truckload of very important tests every day next week, so I have no clue when I will be able to continue the story. I will probably do it sometime next weekend.