Chapter Four

Gradually her eyes became accustomed to the blackness. She wandered around in the tunnels for what seemed like hours before she truly realized she was lost. Even then, her mind didn't want to accept the fact. If I just keep making random turns, I'll be sure to find a way out. It can't be that hard, after all. But she had quickly realized that it was "that hard". Not paying too much attention to the floor in front of her, she failed to notice the large set of steps. That is, until her foot hit empty air and she came crashing to the ground.

She lay stunned in the darkness. It came to her after a while that she was not getting up. She had started the search with such confidence and had felt it draining away as the hours went by. Now, lying on the floor in pitch-blackness with no way out, she had no desire to get up. No desire to keep on going. And, in utter hopelessness, she began to cry, which would have been really embarrassing but she thought that no one else was there to hear her.

But she was wrong. There was someone who heard her. Someone with very good ears. The only person who would be in the Opera Populaire at this time of night. He looked up sharply at the sound. "I heard someone crying. Who, though, could it be?" A thought occurred to him. "Maybe it was Christine, calling out to me. Maybe she's not gone so far away as I've been told. I heard someone crying, maybe it was she." He grabbed his cloak and was gone.

When her tears had finally dried, she looked up, ready to get up and try again. Her eyes registered that she was in a dank tunnel with a bend just in front of her. She realized suddenly that she could see more clearly than she had before. How? Is there something about falling down a large set of stairs that makes your eyes adjust to darkness? she wondered. But then she saw that there was actually light. The flickering light of a lantern.

She slowly rose to her feet. The first thing that turned the corner was the lantern, a tiny ball of light. Then someone rounded the corner. She only noticed that the figure was male before the relief swept through her, coming from the sight of a human being. Not knowing who he was, and at that moment, not caring, she ran forward and flung her arms around his neck.

He froze. No one had ever initiated contact of this kind before. The gesture was so alien to him that at first he had no idea what he should do. Then he remembered. It was called "hugging" and he saw the ballet girls do it all the time. He hesitantly put his arms around her waist, waiting for her to let go and back away in fear. She didn't seem to react, except for maybe hugging him a little bit tighter. They stood like that for quite a while.

Her relief slowly wore off and she realized the awkwardness of her position. She was standing in the middle of an underground tunnel, hugging a man who she didn't even know just because he was there. He felt her hold loosen and he quickly let go as she stepped away, her cheeks slightly pink.

"I-I'm sorry, sir," she said, looking at the ground.

He frowned. "I see no reason for you to be sorry."

She heard his voice, a voice more beautiful than any she had heard before. Almost angelic… Therewas a jolt in her stomach as she raised her head and looked at the man who had found her. He was wearing a black suit with a white shirt that barely peeked through. A long black cape swirled around his body. His fingers were stained and spotted with ink. He seemed to be about three or four inches taller than she was. His hair was black, shiny, and slightly off center, almost as if it were a wig. Her gaze travelled to his face. His eyes reflected total astonishment. His face was almost handsome, despite the residential grief in each shadow and line. Then her eyes stopped at the white mask that covered the right half of his face. She flushed bright red and looked at her shoes as she realized just who she had hugged. Her mind was reeling. I just hugged the Phantom of the Opera… this cannot be happening. I must be dreaming. She felt almost elated, but at the same time extremely embarrassed at the way she had leaped at him.

"I… I… I'm so sorry for flying at you like that, the ballet school took a trip and I went back to get something as we were leaving but all the doors were locked and I couldn't get out. I've been wandering around here for hours and there's no one else in this entire building and it's dark and when I saw someone else here, I just…" She cut herself off. You're babbling, she scolded herself. It's ridiculous to be frightened. Just try to act normal and he'll be more likely to help you. She pulled herself together and looked up at him.

"You probably know this place pretty well, do you know any other ways out besides the main doors?"

The Phantom hesitated. He knew of so many secret ways out, but something about this girl intrigued him. He had almost gotten the feeling that she had stepped away because she was embarrassed about hugging him, not because she was repulsed by his touch. But he had to get to know her better. There was no other way to be sure. So he lied.

"No. If all the little doors are locked, there are no other ways out. But I can possibly give you somewhere to stay until the ballet rats come back," he suggested hesitantly. Immediately he wanted to take back his last sentence. Why would anyone accept an offer of hospitality from him? Preparing himself for the small sting of rejection he was surprised when she gave another answer.

"Yes, please. If that's all right with you," she added hesitantly. She had wanted to see his home ever since she had come, but had been too afraid to even try to get into the tunnels. Only desperation had led her here, but she was getting happier by the second that it had.

Silently he held out his hand to her. She slid her hand into his, feeling like she had just stepped straight into the musical. The song started playing in her head. In sleep he sang to me In dreams he came, That voice which calls to me And speaks my name, And do I dream again For now I find The Phantom of the Opera is there Inside my mind. But he wasn't inside her mind; he was here, in reality. She felt the pressure of his hand holding hers, and that was certainly real. He didn't say a word as he led her to a boat: a small black gondola decorated with a skull on the bow. It's funny how much the movie got right, she thought. He helped her into the boat silently and began to pole his way through the waterways beneath the theater. She turned her head left and right, trying to take it all in and not forget. But there was simply too much to see. The boat reached a large archway with a grate across it similar to a portcullis, which rose of its own volition. She examined it, trying to figure out how it worked, but was distracted by the space they had just floated into.

"Oh my God," she whispered in English. There were candles all around, thousands and thousands of them. By their flickering light, she could see everything. The first thing she noticed was the large pipe organ, which dominated the entire back of the space. Sheet music covered every available surface. To the left there were models upon models of stages and sets for what looked like almost every opera in existence. The whole space seemed to be a kingdom for music and it took her breath away. "It was beautiful in the movie, but I never thought…"

The Phantom watched her face very carefully. He was surprised at the wonder in her eyes that seemed to grow with every new thing they encountered in the waterways. Her reaction to his home stunned him most of all. He immediately noticed the change of language. He didn't speak English, but he guessed that that was what it was.

He docked the boat and helped her out of it. "This is my home," he said, indicating the entire space with a sweep of his hand.

"It's beautiful," she breathed.

He led her to the large swan bed in the corner of the room. She saw it and hesitated. Erik wanted to slap himself. Of course she wouldn't want to accept, not if he was the giver. Why would she want anything from a monster?

"But… but this is your bed," she stammered.

"Yes." He let go of her hand and looked away from her.

"If I take it, where will you sleep?" she asked, concerned. He looked up at her in surprise. Was that the wrong thing to say?

"You are… concerned that I have nowhere to sleep?" he asked. The words sounded almost awkward, even in his beautiful voice. She nodded.

"I rarely sleep at all. Do not worry for me," he said.

"Are you sure that you don't mind?"

"Yes."

She flopped on the bed. "All right," she yawned. "But I really think…" What she thought he would never get to hear, for in the middle of her sentence, she fell asleep.

He looked at her in some confusion. She had been concerned for him! No human being had ever actually cared where he slept. She had not hesitated because it was he, a loathsome corpse, helping her; she had not wanted to take something that he needed! She was a very, very strange girl. He should detach himself and refrain from further contact, he thought, because she would betray him like everyone else he had ever helped. Nevertheless, he stood there staring for a long time.

When the Phantom speaks for the first time as he hears her crying, that is a quote from the musical The Secret Garden. Please review!