Erik, Mélanie, Anna, and Jasper finally arrived at the manor, though the servants seemed a little too excited to be home. It aroused Erik's suspicions, but he didn't want to say anything due to Mélanie's melancholy demeanor. She kept her eyes out the window, not wanting to converse with the others during the rest of the trip. Any remaining joy she had was stripped away when she saw the gray aura around her parents. She was convinced that her cryptic prediction would come true, but all they can do is hope for the opposite.
They exited the carriage and Jasper removed the reins off of Black Thunder before housing him in the stables. Anna guided Erik and Mélanie to the front steps of the manor, keeping an eye out for the prying press that was hunting for a story. It was frustrating that Henry had to make a spectacle at the party and leave everyone craving a headline. This was most likely his way to keep his daughter in line while he was away; the press would have a watchful eye and if she was seen with Jake, it would be all over the papers, ones that Henry would most likely seek out. Erik felt remorse for her since she could never escape her father's watchful eye, even when he wasn't around.
Anna waited as the two entered and quickly closed the door, practically slamming it. They turned toward her, alarmed by the noise, but Anna only smiled. "Perhaps the two of you would like to have an early music lesson," she suggested.
"It's not for a few hours," Mélanie said with a curious head tilt.
"But with your parents gone, you don't have to follow their schedule. I'm sure there are activities that you two would like to get to once the lesson is over," she insisted.
"Like what, reading?" Mélanie retorted, but seeing that Anna was not letting this suggestion go, she turned to Erik and said, "Maybe she's right. I need to get my mind off of my parents' departure."
"Certainly," he said as he followed her up to the music room, looking back to see Anna with an excited smile on her face. This only made him more suspicious of her, but he could not figure out what she would be hiding from them that would make her this giddy.
Erik opened the door to the music room, but none of them could have predicted that someone was already inside, holding a bouquet of red roses. "Jake!" Mélanie said with glee as she rushed to the man she thought she'd never see again and he twirled her around, riding out her joy. "How are you here? There's paparazzi all over the front gates."
"Your servants snuck out to find my home and showed me the secret entrance in and out of the manor," he explained as he handed her the bouquet and she inhaled deeply.
"I didn't know we had a secret entrance," she said.
"Apparently they used it to sneak out to find the nearest bar whenever days were tough."
"That would have been useful to know," Erik said to himself, but addressed the young man, "You made sure that no one saw you?"
"Everyone is by the main gate and the entrance is some distance away. The servants left the back door open after you all went to the dock so I could slip in without being seen."
"You've been waiting that long?" Mélanie asked.
"I may have been a little excited to see you," he said with some embarrassment in his tone as he scratched the back of his head. "After everything that went down on Bonne Année, I was scared that I would never get to see you again."
She lowered her head. "Me too," she said softly.
"But this won't be the last time, I vow it. It may take some time to formulate a plan, but I will never give up on you," Jake reassured.
"Would you go so far as to steal her away?" Erik suggested in a playful manner, but Jake's contemplative face made him drop his tone. "I was making a joke."
"I know you were, but that's not a bad idea as a last resort," Jake said with a smile.
"I'd rather it not come to that," Mélanie said, "The last thing I want is for father to treat you like a mad fugitive."
"But I'd be a happy mad fugitive," he said with a mischievous smile that made her chuckle a bit. "While they're away, let's escape this manor and have a fun outing."
"You really are mad," Erik commented. "How do you plan to hide from the gossiping streets of Paris, not to mention the reporters?"
"There's plenty to do in other cities. We'll just need a carriage and a coachman," Jake said as he looked at Erik.
He picked up on his silent suggestion. "I don't think that's a good idea."
"You're my only option. I can't ask the hired coachman in case he had loose lips and I tried asking the Joneses, but they said that they had to deep clean the manor before the Ravenswoods returned."
"Is that so?" Erik said with an arched eyebrow. He remembered them saying how "stress-free" the manor would be with them away, which didn't indicate additional cleaning duties. It's more likely that they wanted the house to themselves.
"They also told me that you were good at sneaking around, as if you were a phantom," Jake added. His comment triggered a mini heart attack in Erik, but he contained his anxiety with a neutral face. Why did they have to use that word specifically?
"And what about you, Mélanie?" Erik deflected, hoping she could talk some sense in him.
Despite her reluctance, she surprised him by saying shyly, "I guess, if we're careful about it, it would be a fun time."
He sighed in defeat. "If you're going out, you two are going to need to hide your faces. You never know how far a reporter would go to chase a headline. I may have some spare clothing."
"Thank you," he said repeatedly with prayer hands as the couple followed him out of the music room. They reached his room, which he was a bit reluctant to let them in. The last time a couple entered his domain, he tried to kill one and forcibly marry the other. With a subtle breath, he opened the door and raced to his wardrobe, not waiting for them to enter. However, they sensed his uneasiness and decided to wait outside, which Erik appreciated. He came back with two black top hats and two black collared cloaks.
"Hopefully this will suffice," he said as he handed one pair to him.
Jake put on the cloak, which fit perfectly, but the hat was too big as it kept sliding down his forehead and slightly obscuring his vision. Erik thought this might be the case; whenever he made hats, he had to make them big enough to fit his mask as well. However, that didn't seem to bother Jake since he chuckled after the third time he adjusted his hat. "This will work out nicely .No one will be able to see my face if I can't even see them."
"Do you have a bonnet, Mélanie?" Erik asked.
"Y-Yes," she responded.
"You'll need it. Also, make sure to change into a dress that the public has not seen you in," he suggested.
"O-Of course," she said as she left their side.
"You really are an expert in stealth," Jake praised as he lifted his hat.
"Well, when you have worn a mask for as long as I have, you find ways to avoid people's judgmental gaze," Erik said as he put on his hat and cloak.
"How long have you had a mask? Mélanie told me you only started wearing one after the opera house burned down," he inquired.
Erik stared at him for a second, realizing his slip-up. "It's been several months. I had a rough time in the beginning, especially with the whole Phantom of the Opera fiasco."
"Right, I read about that in the paper. Scary stuff," he said as he crossed his arms. "I'd like to think that I'd be like the Viscount de Chagny that saved the girl, but I don't know if I would act as bravely as him."
"I bet you would act courageously if Mélanie was the one that was kidnapped."
"For her, I would do anything," Jake answered.
Erik smiled. "Then imagine her father is the Phantom and you have to save her."
"But then I'd have to duel him and from what I've heard, he has a winning streak."
"I thought you said you'd do anything for her?"
Jake had red cheeks as he nervously rubbed the back of his head. "I did say that, didn't I?" The two men laughed as they walked to the foyer, waiting for Mélanie to finish changing.
It took some time, but she came out with a burgundy dress and a white bonnet that did not match the dress, but didn't clash with it either. Perhaps she only had the one bonnet. "I'm sorry to keep you two waiting," she apologized as she rushed to their side.
"It's no problem. You two head out through the secret passageway and I'll get the carriage ready," Erik ordered.
"Do you know where to meet?" Jake asked.
"No, but I am an observant person. Make sure to keep out of sight, but I will find you," he reassured.
"A-All right," Jake said skeptically, but he and Mélanie headed for the back entrance of the manor to keep out of sight.
Erik kept an eye out for the young couple amongst the winter gray that was once greenery outside the manor. The manor isn't too far away from Paris, but it was secluded enough for their privacy. Though, the seclusion might be a hindrance now with the reporters camping out at the front gate with nothing to entice them to leave. They even swarmed the carriage when he left, hoping at least Mélanie would be inside, but were disappointed when she wasn't. He hoped they would conclude that he was getting the carriage fixed, but when they tried to ask him questions, he ignored them and proceeded to drive away, obscuring his face from cameras. How do nobles deal with this kind of invasion of privacy and keep their sanity?
Luckily, no one was willing to follow the carriage this far away from the manor and he found Jake and Mélanie some distance away. He urged them to enter the carriage quickly, despite Jake's wanting to be a gentleman and hold the door for his beloved. Once they were in motion, Jake provided directions to the town he had in mind and Erik focused on the road, letting the couple have their alone time. For how young they were, he was surprised how much self-control they had. Any other couple would waste no time exploring each other's bodies, especially at the risk of getting caught, but not these two. Clearly what they have is emotionally-driven, something he admired.
It took about an hour before they reached their destination, which turned out to be a simple little town compared to the bustling streets of Paris. Erik suggested he would wait for them in the carriage, but they insisted that he join them to be their lookout for reporters. He dreaded the role since he would have to be on guard, but knew there was no use in arguing with this stubborn couple. They already convinced him to venture out of his comfort level.
The trio went around the various shops and purchased a handful of items. Most of their purchases were commissions for clothes and accessories that they would need to come back for a fitting at a later date. Mélanie was a bit hesitant to do a commission since she didn't know if she would ever be allowed to return, but Jake reassured her that he would deliver the items and bring them back for any alterations. If Erik felt that there were too many people staring at them, he would urge them to move on to the next shop. Though, after changing shops over five times, they realized he was more paranoid than cautious, but still listened to his suggestion. Better to be safe than to complain.
Around lunchtime, they purchased ham sandwiches from the local coffee seller, but as they were eating, they heard a crow cawing above them. They looked up, but Mélanie let out a little gasp. "That's Morella," she said.
"What?" Jake said as he was eating his sandwich. However, without warning, she started to chase after the crow. "Wait, hold on a second," he said with a full mouth as he started rushing after her.
"You shouldn't run off like that," Erik yelled as he chased after her while scarfing down his sandwich.
"Did I hear her mention someone named 'Morella'?" Jake said as he looked back at Erik, though he had to keep a hand on his hat to avoid it from falling off.
"It's a long story," he replied curtly. His age was showing as he was having a hard time keeping up with the young man without using up all his stamina.
They soon reached a two-story shop, which stood out from the rest of the nearby shops with its sky blue paint, though it was slowly turning green due to sun exposure and the age of the wood. The cerulean trim contrasted with the plain wood shingles and the matching wood porch. The top of the sign had a green outline of an eye, though the pupil seemed to follow wherever people walked. Though, what caught Erik's attention the most was the name on the sign: Memento Mori. The name sounded familiar and it took him a second to remember it was the one Marie told him about while they were in the crypt.
"I saw her enter that shop," Mélanie said as she tried to enter the shop, but Erik held her back.
"Maybe we shouldn't go inside," he said as he kept staring at the sign.
"Why not?" she asked innocently.
"Because you're still eating your food," Jake pointed out. Erik was relieved by his insertion into the conversation since he couldn't think of a good excuse.
However, she wolfed down her sandwich, stunning the men, and smiled at them before entering the shop with a rebellious step. The men followed and were greeted with a collection of magic items that included potion bottles, books and scrolls, and small boxes filled with different materials for rituals. The floor and walls were wooden and most of the shelves matched. Various sized and colored crystals and candles were placed in strategic areas and a small oven was behind a counter, most likely used to brew the potions. An open silver bird cage was placed near a window, but no bird could be found. Maps of various countries, draperies made from various cloths, and star maps were hung on the walls, almost filling every inch.
At the back of the store, next to a dark curtain that led to another room, was an oil painting of a middle-aged woman of Romani descent standing next to a table that held a candleabrum, a spell book, tarot cards, and a crystal ball. She wore a dress made from three different cloths, burgundy for the top, purple for the skirt, and white for the puffy sleeves that cinched around her wrists. Using the same material as her sleeves, she had a scarf that wrapped around her neck multiple times and her black hair was curled short. In one hand was a human skull, but her facial expression did not show malice that would trigger unsettling feelings.
"Can I help you with something?" a voice said in a foreign accent, frightening all of them out of their skin. The jolt from the scare managed to knock Jake's hat off of his head and it fell right before the owner of the voice: the spot-on image of the woman in the painting. She picked up the hat and handed it to him as she continued, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you."
"No, it's all right," Jake said as he took back his hat, but held it in his arms.
"Did a crow fly in here a second ago?" Mélanie asked.
The woman raised an eyebrow as she responded, "Yes, but it flew out of that window." She pointed at an open window on the other side of the shop. "She doesn't like staying in the shop and flies out whenever she can."
"So Morella is your bird?" she asked curiously.
"Who is Morella?" Jake asked louder than intended, which caused Mélanie and Erik to shush him, but the woman chuckled.
"I'm impressed you know the name of my beloved crow. She must have told you," she said light-heartedly.
"She did," she replied, but it only confused the men more.
"Am I the crazy one here?" Jake stated, but Erik put a hand on his shoulder, as if he was standing in solidarity with his confusion.
"You three must be special if she has graced you with her presence," the woman said before giving a quick curtsy. "Let me introduce myself: my name is Madame Leota and welcome to my shop."
"You have quite the ecclastic collection of items here. What exactly do you sell here?" Erik inquired.
"Oh, well, I have magical items for sale, but that is not my main source of income. I am actually a traveling fortune teller," she answered, gauging their reactions. While Mélanie's eyes gleamed with awe, the men had skeptical looks on their faces, which is about the average reaction. "Would you like your fortunes read?"
"Yes—," Mélanie blurted, but Jake interrupted her.
"This is how they scam you," he warned. "How much are you charging for a reading?"
"For a friend of Morella's, it's on the house," Madame Leota said with a genuine smile, but that only deepened his suspicion.
"She claims it's free, but she'll try to sell us things we don't need," he whispered in her ear.
"Oh, have faith in her, Jake," she defended.
"He does have a point though. I've spent some time with fortune tellers and they are the masters of up-selling," Erik defended.
"Wait, when did you spend time with fortune—," Jake asked, but amidst his confusion, Mélanie walked up to Madame Leota.
"I would like a reading," she said with enthusiasm.
"Splendid! Follow me," she said as she guided her to the back room.
Jake sighed. "She's going to sell her a lot of crystals."
"I assume that you do not believe in fortune tellers?" Erik questioned to pass the time.
"Not really. I've read about a lot of so-called mediums faking their divination and preying on the grieving rich to make a profit."
"I have to agree with you on that. Even those that have convincing powers tend to sell useless junk, claiming they have incredible powers when in reality, they got those items for dirt cheap. Most claim the belief that it is magical is enough to help them, but it's nonsense."
"I would have never imagined you would know so much on the topic. Tell me more about your connection with fortune tellers."
"I'd rather not," Erik tried to wriggle out, but Jake would not let it go.
"Why not? Got swindled or something?" he teased.
"Something like that," he misled.
Before he could pry further, Madame Leota poked her head from the curtain. "Mr. Foreman, your presence is requested."
He tilted his head. "My name isn't Mister."
"My apologies, Monsieur Foreman. Your presence is requested by your future wife."
Jake was disarmed by her statement that he didn't bother to argue and followed the fortune teller into the seance room. Erik noticed the sound of muffled heels heading upward, meaning the room was actually upstairs. He figured it would be secluded from the rest of the shop so no one could overhear their conversation. He decided to use this time to explore the shop a bit and find out this fortune teller's secrets. In the gypsy circus he grew up in, there were plenty of women that claimed that the divine had reached them, but they were using tricks to convince others of their powers. Sometimes, he was forced to help by tapping under the table and behind walls or pulling thin strings to make items move seemingly on their own. That kind of training solidified his act when he had to play the Phantom of the Opera role.
Despite the collection of items, the shop looked fairly normal with no secret passages to be found or contraptions to play up the scare factor like a gramophone horn or a music box on a timer. No special powders could be found in the lanterns that might change the color of the flame or hidden strings on any of the solitary items. However, a duo of busts caught his attention. One bust was of an older woman with a long and serious face with her hair tied back into a ponytail. The other was of a man with a more square jaw and shorter hair. They were quite detailed, as if the artist used a plaster mold of the models' faces.
He admired their beauty briefly before moving on to more snooping. He observed the multiple maps of America, noting the different years: 1692, 1776, and 1830. It was interesting to see the progression of this collection of past colonies becoming its own country. She even had a map of territories of the indigenous tribes and on this map, he noticed a location in the southwest area that was penned in: Thunder Mesa.
Erik looked back at the busts, but was surprised to see them looking at him. He didn't even hear the sound of stone scraping against the pedestal and upon further inspection, it appeared that only their necks had moved. He looked for a hinge or a groove that indicated the heads could move, but the neck was smooth, as if it was sculpted that way. Erik thought he was going crazy, but tried to take his mind off it by exploring the rest of the shop, though every time he looked back, the busts were staring back at him and he was starting to freak out.
As if answering his prayers for an escape, the curtain opened and out came the trio. He walked up to them, but when he noticed their distressed faces, he was a bit reluctant to question them about what they experienced. However, Madame Leota grabbed his attention as she said, "You're next."
"Oh, it's fine. I don't want a reading," he said politely, but she ignored his answer as she grabbed his hand and pulled him behind the curtain.
"You don't have a choice in this," she said as she walked a little ways before reaching the staircase. She gestured for him to head upstairs and he reluctantly followed, though seeing the staircase gave him an unusual sense of Deja vu. Now that he thought about it, her voice was starting to sound familiar as well, but he never met this woman in his life.
Eventually, they reached her seance room that was draped with dark colored fabrics. On the wood floor was an ornate red rug, which matched the red cushioned chairs that faced each other. The table was lined with a white tablecloth with a black laced design. A crystal ball with its metal rest rested on the middle of the table, surrounded by candles. A wooden stand stood nearby the table with a book resting on it, but it was facing away from him so he couldn't read its contents.
"Have a seat," she said as she took the seat furthest away from the door. He didn't see the point in arguing and if she was truthful about the free readings, he shouldn't have to worry about being extorted.
However, one thing was on his mind, "What did you tell those two to make them look so troubled?"
"I only told the truth, as painful as it is. But that is not for me to disclose. If they so wish to, they'll tell you," she said as she started lighting the candles.
"I bet you said something ominous so they would buy some 'curse-lifting' materials from you," he accused under his breath.
"Not all gypsies are the same, Erik," she said, catching him by surprise. "You were surrounded by those with ill-intent and that had molded your beliefs. I cannot fault you for thinking that way, but let me show you that some of us want to help others," she said as she extended her arms on the table, keeping her palms up for him to grab.
Erik was frightened to proceed, but grabbed her hands gingerly. At that moment, the crystal ball started to light up in a teal glow. If Erik had enough time, he would try to figure out the "magic" behind it, but Madame Leota kept his focus away from his thoughts as she said, "Just because you were a phantom in the past life, that doesn't mean you need to dissect how everything works."
He shook his head in disbelief. "H-How . . . ,"
"I thought you wanted to stop lying to the people around you. What is the point in learning new tricks?"
"D-Did they say something . . . ," he rambled, but he could not formulate a coherent thought.
"Don't worry. They don't know about your past, but they were curious. I know it's a story you're not willing to tell. Even those close to you only know bits and pieces. Only you know all the parts . . . and now, so do I," she said as pulled out her tarot cards, shuffled them, and spread them in front of him in a curve. "Go ahead and pull them one at a time."
He took a breath to calm himself before pulling a random card. He had some understanding on how to read tarot, but his knowledge was a bit rusty. The first one was the empress card, but it was upside down. "Born from a vain mother and an absent father, you were neglected from the start. The person who was supposed to love you unconditionally and nurture your well-being was the one who had the most hatred for you simply because of your deformity," she said as she tried to put a hand on his mask, but he pulled his head back in defense.
"Easy guess," he tried to reason before pulling the next card: the Devil card.
"You tried to change things by running away, but that didn't pan out the way you wanted, did it? Instead, you were a victim of other people's greed and depravity. You were only a child that was seeking compassion, but instead, pain was your only friend until you became the very thing they feared."
"The Devil's Child," he said softly, fully letting himself listen to what she had to say. No lies have been told yet. He went for another card, but accidentally grabbed two. He kept the second one face-down on the table and flipped the first one: the Eight of Pentacles.
"Eventually, you were able to escape hardship and find a mentor who was able to nurture your abilities. For such a young man, you worked harder than anyone and your talent was undeniable. You were destined to be his protege, but something happened." At that moment, he flipped the second card: the Tower. "And that event upheaved your plans, forcing you to run away yet again."
"It was my fault she fell," he confessed as he kept his hand on the Tower card, but Madame Leota placed a hand on his.
"It was her time, regardless of your involvement. Death is such a tricky subject," she said as she flipped the Death card as if she knew exactly where it was. "To some, it is a scary phenomenon since no one wants things to end without tightening up the loose ends, but sometimes, that's how things need to play out for us to continue with our own journey," she said as she flipped the Eight of Cups. "And it leads us to the people who will change our lives."
Erik took another card from the remaining pile: the Two of Cups.
"You met a new friend in a distant land. At first, you were bitter enemies with differing morals, but a saddening event brought you two closer."
"Reza," he said as he put the card down and took a deep breath to hold back his tears. "How many more cards do I need to pull?"
"You have an extensive history, but if you do not have the strength to keep pulling, I can," she said as she pulled the next card: the Lovers card, but it was upside down.
He immediately knew what she was going to say. "Christine. . . .You're going to say we were doomed from the start."
"I wouldn't say that," she said as she flipped the card in the correct orientation for him. "This card is not solely meant for romantic relationships. It could mean the relationship with yourself. You created the character of the Phantom of the Opera to release the accumulated anger from your past. Of course, it started out as mischief and it served to keep you balanced, but a certain event escalated things." She flipped over another card: an upside-down Hanged Man. "The minute his body swung from the rafters was the same day that your perspective skewed due to heartbreak. That day, the Phantom took over and he vowed to force her to love you, even if it was against her will."
He looked down, keeping his eyes transfixed on the Lovers card before flipping it back upside-down. "And look how well that turned out."
"Only because that's how you see it. True, you didn't get the girl, but you slowly accepted that the Phantom was a part of you. Both of you loved the girl and both of you let her go." She flipped over the Judgement card. "You had the self-reflection to see your actions and to amend any wrongs you could. Not a lot of people can deal with their Phantom and may one day release it when it would hurt the people they love."
"Do you see that for me?" Erik asked innocently.
"You tell me," she said as she gestured for him to pick the last card. He gulped as he picked it up, fearing the worst, but to his relief, he picked up the Magician card. He started to laugh. "I have the capability to manifest my own future. Is that what you're going to say?"
Madame Leota smiled. "You are already creating a better future for yourself. The only step left for you is to be vulnerable with those that have opened their hearts to you," she said as she reached for his mask again, but this time, he didn't flinch. Instead, he let her take his mask off, wincing at the thought of her horrified expression, but instead, she had a motherly smile that he wished he saw in his childhood. "Many people may see a monster, but all I see is a broken soul slowly repairing itself with acceptance."
Her words moved him and he could feel tears flowing down his deformed cheek. Though, the feeling was unusual for him since he never allowed himself to cry and had to feel the moisture on his deformed cheek to confirm they were indeed tears. "Th-This is an unusual tarot reading, you know," he said as he wiped away the tears so he could put his mask back on.
"I know, but it's not much fun when I can only pull three cards to determine a person's past, present, and future. Your past alone could not be defined by one card," she said as she gathered up the cards and shuffled them. "Any other fortune teller can make generic statements to fit a person's experience, but not me."
"You're definitely one of the most convincing fortune tellers I have met."
"You still doubt my ability after all that?" Madame Leota said with a teasing smile, which he returned. He was surprised he found himself enjoying her company after all that. "But now that I've earned your trust, I need to ask you something: have you been having dreams that involved either a ghostly or shadow woman?"
He was stunned by her specificity and replied, "Y-Yes, I have."
"I feared that," she said as she got up to go through her book, flipping through multiple pages before landing on the right one. "Did she look like this?"
He got up from his seat and walked up next to her. On the left page, he saw a dual image of a woman with thick dark hair wearing a dress made up of cloths of various colors and styles. Her skin was a luminescent shade of teal with a gray aura surrounding her. Her eyes were closed and her makeup was dark. He didn't recognize the image, but next to it was a dark silhouette of the same woman and that sparked his memory. "The right image," he pointed out.
"Good, you're not that close to death," she said under her breath, but he heard her.
"I beg your pardon?" Erik asked in shock.
She was surprised she was heard, but then cursed herself for not keeping her thoughts to herself. "Let me explain," she said as she gestured for him to return to his seat. "The girl in the image is who people of my culture call Little Leota."
"Any relation?" he asked curiously.
"N-No. I named myself after her when I started my practice. Her story moved me," she said, but he could tell she was hiding something. "Have you heard about the Salem Witch Trials?"
"I've read some articles about it, but nothing in depth."
"Well, in America, or more specially, in my hometown of Salem, people were accusing their neighbors of being witches all because a handful of children were playing pranks and the adults took the joke too far. Those who fell outside the norms of the town or were in defiance of authority were accused, incarcerating over a hundred people and executing over nineteen people. Out of those killed was a girl that was accused of witchcraft simply because her ex-lover was found dead in a barn. Of course, she was innocent, but the judge and the prosecutor would not listen to reason. Instead, they hung her and it was later revealed that the boy faked his death to get back at her."
"That's awful," he sympathized.
"Indeed and the worst part of all was that the boy was not prosecuted for his trickery. Instead, he was treated as a miracle while her blood was on his hands. Now, any other story would have the girl haunting the boy until he met a tragic end, but her story is unique: she forgave him. Her soul was too pure for vengeance and she simply wanted to help people avoid a tragic fate like she did."
"And you're telling me this because . . . ?"
"Because you are the next soul she wants to save," she said ominously. "Since Little Leota has made contact with you, it means that sometime soon, you are destined to die."
"What? Didn't you say that I was not close to death?"
"I meant you were not going to die in the coming weeks. Those who see the left image are closer to death than those who see her shadow form. Little Leota has good intentions for saving souls from death, but she forgets that there is a cost to it."
"What kind of cost could there be?"
"I told you that the subject of death is tricky. We all want to avoid it, but a debt must be paid and if it is avoided by one person, it must be paid by another."
"Paid by another? You mean that someone would have to take their place? Doesn't that defeat the purpose of saving a soul?"
Madame Leota opened her mouth excitedly, as if to say something in agreement, but she held it back. "Some have thought that, including me, but there is no point in arguing with a spirit with an altruistic heart. She only sees the short-term benefits of saving a soul, but the sacrificed soul is an unlucky random. Sometimes they are related to the saved soul, sometimes they are a complete stranger. Even she has no control over that."
"So if Little Leota has revealed herself to me, then I am already destined to be saved?"
"Not necessarily. You have to choose to save yourself, but I want to warn you of the cost since some people cannot live with such a burden."
"But it's either that or my own demise," he said with disbelief. Do you know how much longer I have to live?"
"I cannot say. That is up to Lady Death herself," she said solemnly.
Erik was taking in everything she was saying. He knew fortune tellers had a habit of predicting grim futures to entice panic buying, but her warning felt genuine. There was no ounce of deceit in her expression or body language and it seemed like she truly cared for his well-being. If her prediction was correct, then that would mean he would die sooner than expected. He had accepted death long ago, even as a child, but to be told your days were numbered was a shock to his system. To put his life in someone else's hands was not something he would have foresaw; he always thought he would die either in a duel, out of vengeance, or by his own hands. Not knowing when and how he would die was putting a sense of uneasiness back into his numb feelings about the subject. Though, he did have the option to change that.
"I know it's not the news you wanted to hear, but since Little Leota already interfered with your destiny, I thought it was best for me to warn you. When you see her in the ghostly form, be prepared to have your answer." He gulped at her warning. He wished she was playing a sick joke and was making a fool out of him, but her serious expression only solidified the dread.
"I guess I pulled the Death card after all," he tried to joke, but his shot nerves were in clear display.
"This is the part of the job that I hate. I know a lot of people would prefer bliss, but then they wouldn't know they had a choice to change their fate," she said as she pulled a small velvet box from underneath the table and placed it on top. "It's not much, but take this as my gift to you."
"This isn't going to cost me anything, is it?" Erik asked skeptically.
"I'm almost insulted that you are distrusting of me even now," Madame Leota said with a chuckle. He took the box and opened it, only to be surprised by what was inside: an emerald-encrusted grasshopper broach. "I know it's gaudy for some, but I figured someone with your unique tastes may appreciate it."
"Unique is definitely the correct word for this," he said uncomfortably. He didn't want to be rude; it was a gift after all.
"You don't need to wear it. It can simply be a paper weight that is collecting dust. I was offered this and a scorpion broach as payment for my services by a woman who wanted me to keep an eye on her niece. I gave away the other one to another customer."
"That woman wouldn't happen to be named Gabrielle, would she?"
"That's her name!" she exclaimed with snapped fingers. "The name slipped out of my mind and I couldn't remember it to save my life."
"Well, her niece was the woman you talked to earlier," he said as he put the box in his pocket.
"I am aware," she said as she got up from the chair. "Just like you, she has a Phantom looming over her, but she will need help fighting against him."
"Him?" Erik asked as he got up from the chair and started following her out of the seance room.
"All will be explained in due time," she said as the two made their way downstairs. When they made it back to the main shop area, he was alarmed to see them still ruminating over their reading. Though, when they saw him, they tried to put on a happier face.
"You were gone for a while," Mélanie said with concern.
"I had a lot of things to dissect," Madame Leota said with a warm smile. "He was surprisingly receptive to what I had to say."
"Oh no. Does that mean he bought a lot of crystals or charms?" Jake asked.
"No. In fact, she didn't force anything on me," Erik lied. Madame Leota was shocked by his statement at first, but figured it was to ease their minds. "But we should probably start heading back to the manor before it gets dark."
"That's probably for the best," Mélanie said as the three of them said their pleasantries before leaving the shop. Erik took one last look at the busts and saw that their heads were facing away from him, as if they never moved from their original position.
Madame Leota made sure to keep a smile as they left, but once the door was closed, her demeanor changed as she let out a sigh. "Morella!" she called and waited as her crow flew into the shop and into the birdcage. "What did I say about interfering with souls?"
"Caw!" she responded with open wings, as if trying to answer back.
"It's bad enough you got involved with that girl's life, but now you found someone else in the household to save. I told you that the Ravenswoods were destined for doom, so why do you persist in trying to save them?" she scolded.
"Caw," the crow said as it looked down, as if feeling guilt. This act of contrition changed Madame Leota's angry face to one of forgiveness.
"Poor child," she said as she walked up to the birdcage and petted the crow. "One of these days you'll learn that you can't save everyone. We only have so many years on this Earth and if we try to change that, Lady Death won't be happy with us."
"Caw," the crow replied in a sad tone as it nuzzled against her hand.
"Even if he wasn't a member of the household initially, anyone that is close to that family will not meet a happy ending. But maybe . . . ," Madame Leota said as she looked at the door. "Maybe it will change with him."
The carriage ride back to the manor was a quiet one, with no one really willing to talk about their fortunes. Erik was curious, but if it was as grim as his, he understood why they would be quiet. When he did look back into the carriage, he saw Jake holding Mélanie close and giving her comforting caresses, but his face was just as troubled as hers. Perhaps he felt guilty for suggesting this outing, but he would have never predicted that they would meet Madame Leota. For such a kind woman, she delivered a heavy blow to their well-being.
The sun had set by the time they reached the manor and Erik remembered to drop them off at the secret entrance so he could enter the gates of the manor alone. As predicted, reporters were still there, though their numbers dwindled. It would be wise for everyone that they stayed in the manor while Henry and Martha were away to avoid the stress of sneaking out. Jasper and Anna made preparations for Jake to stay in a guest bedroom during this time.
Jake and Mélanie thought it was best if they retreated to bed to sleep off their worries and although he headed for his room, she asked for him to stay in hers so she wouldn't be alone. Though he tried to protest, she insisted and he gave in. Erik trusted that Jake would never take advantage of her compromised emotions even if they were sleeping in the same bed and simply bid them a good night.
When Erik arrived at his room, he fell onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. A lot of things were racing in his head. Henry's threat was still lingering in his mind and although everyone agreed that he was in the wrong, Erik feared how submissive Martha and Mélanie would be to keep the peace. Erik didn't fully trust him, but he never gave off the impression of a violent man. However, his outburst after the Bonne Année party changed his impression of him. He feared he would hurt his family so he would get what he wanted, but even Erik was confused what exactly Henry's goal was if it involved Mélanie's misery. Perhaps he equated her happiness with his control over her and that was a stark reminder to how Erik tried to control Christine.
But now knowing he was going to die soon, he feared that he might be killed by the man that once called him a friend. Erik wouldn't have believed it at first, but after reading the letters from Thunder Mesa, he couldn't be so certain. The whole town was convinced he had murdered multiple people already and if he threatened to send him to Thunder Mesa, perhaps Henry would make sure the deed was done properly. Erik would fight back for his life, but dreaded either outcome; killing the father of the girl that gave him a second chance was not a favorable option.
"Caw!" a noise rang out from the window, pulling Erik out of his rumination. He looked and saw the crow as it tried to close the window with its body.
"Oh, hello Morella," he said as he got up from the bed. "You're far away from home, aren't you?"
"Caw," she said as she opened her wings and started flying on the same bed post she rested on many nights ago.
"Is there any reason why you like visiting us if you live so far away?" Erik asked as he walked up to the bed, but when he noticed the bird nestling into the post and closing her eyes, he knew there would be no answer. "Madame Leota must have immense faith that you'll always come home."
He yawned, signaling it was time for him to rest as well. The night may be young, but the day was exhausting. He didn't even bother changing into night clothes, but stripped off the clothes that would be uncomfortable to sleep in. He took off his mask and slept on the deformed side.
When Erik woke up, he found himself in a train car that was lit by only one lantern that was swinging around. It gave off an orange glow to his surroundings, which contrasted from the green leather seats. He looked out the window and saw nothing but pitch black, which was odd for a nightly train ride since at least the light from the moon would cascade around them. Though, if he looked closely, he did see a semblance of a dirt wall that encased the entire train, as if they were in a tight tunnel. Upon further inspection, he started to notice that the train was moving at a downward slant, not vertically.
He got up from his seat to find an explanation as to why he was here, but to his surprise, despite most of the train car being shrouded in darkness, he could still see a familiar shadowy figure looking out of a window. She did not seem to notice his presence, but he decided to say something, "L-Little Leota?"
Despite not having a face, he could tell she was surprised to hear that name and looked at him. "She told you about me," she whispered.
"You didn't give her much of a choice," he said as he sat on the seat opposite of her. "Is it true that you're an omen of a tragic death for me?"
She was silent for a bit before responding, "I did warn you to leave the Ravenswood Manor, didn't I?"
"I thought it was merely a dream. How was I supposed to know that your warning was real?"
She sighed. "And that's why I don't like working in people's dreams. They tend to not take the warning seriously, but do you now?"
"Y-Yes, of course I do."
"Well, you didn't heed my warning fast enough," she said as she got up from her seat and started walking down the aisle. "You got too close, intermingling your fate with their doom."
"But I was told that you have the power to change that, correct?" Erik asked hopefully as he followed her.
"Only if you truly want to live," she said as she waved her hand to slide over the train door. He was expecting to hear the sounds of gusting wind and moving wheels on a track, but was surprised to hear silence. He followed behind her and was shocked to see that the train had stopped moving and outside was the wooden platform of a train stop. He looked around to figure out where they stopped, but it appeared that they were at the bottom of a canyon and when he looked up, he could not see an end to the rock walls.
He exited from the train, hoping that he would find Little Leota in this dimly lit train stop, but she was nowhere to be seen. He felt uneasy walking through the abandoned platform, noticing that some of the wood had been ripped out from the nail and was scattered around. Dust covered the benches and counters and any windows left standing were shattered or caked with grime. Newspapers and tumbleweeds were blowing in the chilly wind and grains of sand were blowing onto Erik's face. Eventually, he found a faded sign that indicated where he was, but he was left with even more questions: Phantom Canyon.
"Hope yer not expectin' to go back from where ya came from," a voice with a southern drawl. Erik frantically looked for the source of the voice and found a ticket booth nearby. He looked inside, but only found a skeleton that had been decaying for a while. He was wearing a tattered ticket seller's uniform, including a name tag with the name Ezra etched in it, and his whole station was covered in cobwebs and dust.
"D-Did you say something," he said, hoping that he was wrong, but when the skeleton started to move on its own, he jumped in fright.
"Indeed I did, mister. Looks like yer not from around these parts, huh?" Ezra lifted his arm and his fingers cracked as it formed a pointing hand. "That train there was a one-way trip and there ain't no refunds."
"But I didn't pay for a ticket," Erik explained, ignoring the fact that he was conversing with a skeleton.
He chuckled, letting the dust fall off from his bones. "No one pays for their ticket. I sure as hell didn't. It's always a shock to the livin' to find themselves here, but you'll get used to it."
"There you are," Little Leota said as she grabbed his hand, but he was unsettled by the feeling of pins and needles. Though, she managed to pull him away from the ticket booth and they exited the train station into the desert surrounding them. Somehow, despite the vast amount of desert, he could tell that there was a rock barrier that enveloped them.
"A-Am I dead?" Erik asked in a slight panic.
"No," she said shortly as they could see a light from a nearby town.
"Th-Then why am I here?"
"Because someone wanted to see you," she said.
"Who?" Erik asked, but they had already reached the town before she could answer. It had an unusual glow of green, blue, and purple and most of the buildings were damaged from some kind of unnatural disaster. He could see people walking around the town, but they emitted a strange aura of teal. Despite the late hour (or that's how he perceived the darkness around them), the town was quite lively with plenty of shops open and music filling the air from a nearby saloon.
"Welcome, visitor," a stout man said as he approached Erik, who only now realized that he was alone; Little Leota was trying to take his crown as the best vanisher. The man wore a blood-red suit with a black top hat, but the teal glow of his skin made the suit look darker than it really was. His mayor sash stood out from the dark clothing and the glow of his skin made the white in his hair and curled mustache brighten. "Have you come to join us?"
"O-Oh, no. I was . . . visiting a friend," Erik lied as he kept his eyes out for her.
"Oh, well, if you would like to make permanent accommodations, you can visit the town hall and we can have everything arranged for you. We have 999 happy citizens in our little town, but there is always room for one more," he said with a smirk before he tipped his top hat, but Erik was in for a shock as his whole head came off with it. He tried to hold in his terror at watching this horrific display, but his face was a dead giveaway. The man put his head back on and chortled. "You really are new around here. Enjoy yourself on your visit."
With those parting words, he left Erik's side, but he was scared to move any further. It should have been obvious earlier, but he realized that he walked into a literal ghost town. Most horror stories involving places like this would have the town haunted by one or multiple ghost killers seeking living flesh, but he was relieved to see that this town had no real intention to do him harm. Rather, they asked him to join willingly. It's still a macabre thought, but it was better than him having to keep his guard up against a murderous ghost.
He walked through the town, now able to admire the undead beauty that this town possessed. The people were on a spectrum between skeletal figures and normal humans with the odd glow. He saw an apothecary salesman trying to sell potions to "rejuvenate dead skin", but he could hear the passing townspeople accuse him of being a snake oil salesman. He could hear the whooping from a nearby brothel and one of the girls tried to entice him to come inside, which he politely declined. He walked past a store, which was being robbed, but the owner was quick on the draw and managed to shoot one of the robbers. However, the rest of the gang started laughing before the fallen robber got up, whining at him for not playing the part correctly.
As he passed by a bank, he was startled by the sound of gunfire and found himself in the middle of a shootout. "Hey, idiot. Find sum cover before ya get shot at," an elderly man with a rusted star badge said as he continued shooting at his target: a middle-aged man with an eyepatch. Erik ran out of the scene, but was curious how this would play out; if this was anything like the store, then this should be entertaining. "Give up, One-Eyed Joe. Yer Hole in the Wallet gang is dead. Surrender now and face justice."
"I can't afford that, Sheriff Ketchum," the man said as he continued shooting. "I got two kids back home that I gotta take care of. I don't wanna leave 'em without a daddy."
"Then ya should've thought of that when ya started stealin' from our citizens," the sheriff said as he continued firing back. Erik observed that bullets were hitting their targets, but neither of them acknowledged it. They must have been playing this game for a long time with no sign of an end. Perhaps when they were living, this exact scenario occurred, but they managed to kill each other at the same time, leaving the shoot-out without a winner.
Knowing that there would be no end, Erik decided to move on and walked toward the piano music that caught his attention earlier. He walked up to a saloon, but before he could enter the establishment, a skinny man was being thrown out, landing skull-first onto the dirt. The other patrons of the bar walked out to laugh at the poor unfortunate soul. "Ya really can't stay away from the bottle, eh Barroom Benny?" one of them mocked.
"D-Don't . . . Don't call . . . m-me that," he slurred as he tried to get up, but failed every time.
"Ya gotta feel bad for the guy," a saloon dancer said. "He was never the same after his son got blown to smithereens."
"We all got depressing histories, but ya don't see us drinking our sorrows away," another said as they all returned to their merriment. Erik tried to help the man up, but he managed to stand on his own two feet and walked away, though had a couple of stumbles along the way. Erik went inside and let the fun energy overtake him as he watched people dancing to the piano music and drinking to their heart's content. Surprisingly, the saloon looked the most put-together with no signs of dilapidated wood, cobwebs, or dust; the only mess in sight was spilled alcohol. Some patrons were playing card games and if someone was accused of cheating, a brawl would ensue, but after a while, they would gather the fallen chips and cards and go right back to their game. Others, notably the women, engaged in gossip, and the topics varied from marital problems to the latest gruesome murder. The story he heard of a mauled fur trapper haunted him with the amount of detail they didn't omit.
"And now, ladies and gentleman, it's the moment you have all been waiting for: these gentlemen came all the way from the state of Florida to perform for you. Please put your hands and bones together for the Mellomen!" the emcee announced as he moved away from the upright piano, letting the crowd cheer in excitement as five men propped five busts side by side so they would face the crowd. Suddenly, a shadowy figure of a man appeared on the bench of the piano and lifted the keyboard cover. With the crowd's silence as a cue, he started to play the piano and once the intro was played, the busts started to move on their own to sing the melody:
When the crypt doors creak
And the tombstones quake
Spooks come out for a swinging wake
Happy haunts materialize
And begin to vocalize
Grim grinning ghosts come out to socialize
It was clear this song was a fan favorite amongst the crowd since they started to sing along. Erik could only dream of such appreciation for his music, though some of these people really needed singing lessons. He even noticed a skeletal hand coming out of the soundboard of the piano and holding a candelabrum to lighten up the sheet music.
Now don't close your eyes
And don't try to hide
Or a silly spook may sit by your side
Shrouded in a daft disguise
They pretend to terrorize
Grim grinning ghosts come out to socialize
Despite being the only living person here, he was surprised how unbothered they were of him, as if he belonged. Maybe it was his mask, but he had a strange sense that if he took it off and showed everyone his face, perhaps they would not be terrified.
As the moon climbs high o'er the dead oak tree
Spooks arrive for the midnight spree
Creepy creeps with eerie eyes
Start to shriek and harmonize
Grim grinning ghosts come out to socialize
"What will ya be havin', mister," the bartender said to get his attention, pulling out of Erik's illusion that he was invisible. The man was a combination of human and skeleton with a lot of bone showing through his decaying skin. Erik walked up to the bar and admired the mirrored cabinet that held all the liquor. Seeing himself with this lotly crew was surreal since he was no longer the thing that was out of place. A detailed painting of multiple skeletal cowboys herding demonic cattle in a purple sky was placed above the bar, but he could have sworn the image started to move on its own if he stared at it long enough.
"Seltzer water, please," he ordered. The bartender opened a bottle and poured some in a clean glass before handing it to him. For such a dead town, he was surprised that the water was clean and it didn't have any bizarre aftertaste to show its age.
"So, what brings ya into town?" he asked as he continued to make drinks for the other customers.
"Oh, well a friend brought me here," Erik said as he sipped his drink, not realizing just how parched he was until now.
"A friend? From here?"
"I don't think so, but she seems familiar with this place."
"What's her name if ya don't mind me askin'. Maybe I know her."
"I don't know if this is her real name, but she goes by Little Leota," he said, but the minute that name escaped his lips, the music stopped completely and he could hear glasses shattering from falling onto the floor. As he looked back at the scene, he saw angry stares aimed at him and the anxiety of being perceived crept throughout his body.
"Did you say 'Little Leota'?" the bartender clarified, though his tone was no longer welcoming.
Erik could read the room and did not want to answer the question, but then he heard shuffling from outside and soon, Barrom Benny entered the saloon with Little Leota in his arms. "Look who I found, boys. Our fake guardian angel came back to haunt us," he said spitefully as he pushed her into the middle of the saloon to be the subject of everyone's scorn.
"Ya have some real nerve showing yer face here," a card-playing patron threatened as he brandished a knife.
"I was only passing by," she whispered, but despite having a soft voice, everyone could hear her clearly.
"Oh, you were only passing by, huh? She's more like the Angel of Death, if you ask me; passing over the souls she wants to take," the female patron said with venom.
"You could have chosen to live, but instead, you all stayed."
"Of course ya would blame us for our demise," the first patron said as he threw his knife at her, only for it to pass through her without any effect; she didn't even flinch as it came toward her and landed on the wall behind her.
"None of you deserved to die."
"And what poor unfortunate town would take our place if we listened to ya?" the bartender retorted. "That's how yer savior power works, correct?"
"Come to think of it, has anyone seen the Indian undertaker anywhere?" another patron said, causing the rest of the crowd to murmur. "Don't tell me that freak took ya up on yer insidious offer."
"Y-Yes, they did," she admitted, causing the rest of the crowd to jeer and throw items at her.
"We all agreed that we wouldn't leave the town, but are any of us surprised that a peyote-addicted Indian played the selfish card just so he could live?"
"He probably thought yer one of his ancestors warning him against the White Man," one of the Mellomen mocked, making the crowd laugh at her expense.
"And who was the innocent person that took his place?" the bartender asked. Little Leota looked at Erik, but before she could respond, he continued, "I hope that it was Mr. Ravenswood. Though, I wouldn't call that man innocent."
"I can drink to that," one of the patrons on the bar said as he turned to the rest of the crew. "A round of drinks for the demise of the Ravenswoods!" The crowd cheered, but Erik felt uncomfortable.
"She didn't say he died," he tried to defend quietly, but he felt a hand grab the back of his shirt and pull him back, forcing him to fall on the floor with a thud.
"I don't think we asked for yer opinion, fleshy," Barrom Benny said aggressively as he took his seat and tried to order another drink, only for the bartender to deny him.
"Enlighten us, Little Leota: did Henry Ravenswood perish?" the emcee questioned, cuing the audience to keep quiet until she answered.
"He was destined to die with you," she said in a pained voice, but it was overshadowed by cheers and clinking of glasses.
"Good riddance! The bastard got what he deserved! Death to the Ravenswood!" multiple patrons exclaimed.
Erik got up from the floor and stood next to her. "I-Is that who you wanted me to see?"
"No. In fact, it's best for you if you never see him again," she warned.
"But if it's not him, then who—," he tried to ask, but it would soon be answered.
"Wait, if he wasn't the sacrificed soul, then who was it?" a sober patron said, grabbing everyone's attention. They all looked at her and awaited her response.
"It was Martha," she said, causing Erik to shake his head in disbelief.
"How unfortunate," the bartender said. "But that whole family deserved to die if they could sit idly by as Mr. Ravenswood abused his workers and let them die for profit."
"No sane woman would marry a man like that and be ignorant of his crimes," the female patron said with crossed arms. "And the same goes for the daughter. She may be sweet now, but once she is given control of the mining company, her true colors will show. It's in the blood."
"How dare you say such things about them. If you knew them like I do, you wouldn't be saying that" Erik tried to defend, but moved his head to dodge a glass bottle headed for him.
"They're not going to listen to reason. We should leave," she said in a defeated tone as she started heading out of the saloon. At that moment, more items were thrown at them, some of them hitting Erik, who didn't have the same intangibility that she had. Luckily, none of them shattered on him, so he escaped with only shallow bruises. Once they left the saloon, the crowd returned to their joyful cheering and the piano even continued the song they were singing before:
When you hear the knell of a requiem bell
Weird glows gleam where spirits dwell
Restless bones etherialize
Rise as spooks of every size
Erik stared at the saloon for a bit, wanting to go back inside to defend the Ravenwoods' reputation, but he feared his life would be in jeopardy; this was a crowd that shot first before asking questions. A Punjab lasso would do nothing against a barrage of bullets. He turned to see if Little Leota vanished again, but she was sitting on the porch of a nearby building, hugging her legs and keeping her head low. Despite only being a shadow, he can tell the encounter depressed her. "I'm sorry for what happened there," he said as he sat next to her.
"It's not your fault," she said simply. Her tone may have suggested all was normal, but he knew different.
"Why are they so hostile to you about their deaths? Even if they didn't listen, I would never imagine they would view your warning as anything but helpful."
"They don't want to accept that their deaths were their doing," she said as she got up. "The event that took their lives was out of their control, but they had a chance to escape it. However, instead of realizing that their ignorance was to blame, they'd rather fault the messenger and demonize those who would listen."
"Do you . . . get that kind of reaction often?" Erik said as he followed after her when she started walking out of town.
"Only from the dead who are still adjusting to the afterlife. It may take years or even decades for them to accept how their lives ended, but it will happen."
"Perhaps some of us have accepted death even before our time," he said to himself.
"You used to be, but that has changed as of late, hasn't it?' Little Leota said as she turned her head to observe his reaction. "Circumstances have altered your thinking and now there are more things in this world that are worth living for."
Eventually, they reached an area of land lined with a dilapidated wooden fence, though the fence seemed to go for miles in either direction with no corner in sight. As they passed through the archway entrance, a sign saying Boot Hill Cemetary welcomed them in. Various types of tombstones scattered the land, but no pattern was apparent as to how they were placed. Some of the tombstones had some interesting epitaphs etched on them and while they are meant to honor the dead, they appeared to be logs of the person's death. For example, he found ones that said:
Lynched by a bunch of music lovers
A wrong note was his end
Danced Too Slow And Now He's Dead
He died in the fall
It's a fact not withstanding
But the judges admired
His form on the landing
One stood out to him: a wooden cross with the name Dakota Dick carved into it, but it appeared that the vertical line of the cross kept expanding downward with every new addition nailed onto it:
Hanged October 17, 1867
Shot January 18, 1868
Stabbed December 18, 1868
Poisoned May 21, 1869
He'll Be Back
While the tombstones were humorous at times in a macabre way, Erik was astonished by how vast the cemetery seemed to be as no edge could be seen for miles away. Even if he accounted for every person in the town, it still felt like more people were buried here than were in the town.
Eventually, they walked up to a lavish stone crypt that reminded him of the Ravenswood mausoleum. However, he was confused that no door could be found for them to enter, as if the person never wanted the crypt to be opened. Despite that, with a wave of Little Leota's hand, the stone wall cracked and split in two to form an opening for them to enter. Despite the cramped exterior, the interior was quite spacious and they had to walk for a bit before reaching the desired room, where five people, four men and one woman, circled around an altar covered with lit red candles. As he looked around the walls, he noticed four graves with each of them engraved and the names were too familiar: Ignatius Knight, Barry Claude, Sawyer Bottom, and Rowan D. Falls.
The men were at various points of decay, with the most skeletal figure having soot covering his bones and most of his clothes were ripped away, as if he had a close encounter with an explosion. The next man had deep lacerations on his decaying skin and bite marks on his bones. The third man, while seemingly the most put together, had a misaligned face from being sewn together, as if he was split in half from top to bottom. The fourth man, while not showing much signs of decay, was dripping wet, as if he had just returned from a swim. The woman was facing away from Erik and Little Leota, but when she turned to face them, his jaw dropped.
"Erik?" Martha said with a teal glow to her skin as she walked up to him and touched his face to make sure he was real. Her skin was ice cold against his. "Please tell me that you're not dead," she pleaded.
"He's not dead yet, but it was difficult to bring a living person into our realm," Little Leota whispered. While the men flinched from her sudden appearance, Martha had the opposite reaction and hugged the shadow woman. However, as if a strong gust of wind blew past her, her shadow faded away like black feathers, leaving behind a young woman with the teal glow to her skin. She wore a white flowy top cinched by a dark red skirt that covered her legs. Her feet were bare, but she wore golden anklets that matched her hoop earrings and bracelets.
"I feel guilty for making you go through that heartless town to get him, but I appreciate it, nonetheless," Martha said into her ear before releasing her. They both turned toward him, but now that her face no longer obscured in darkness, Erik could see her facial features and recognized her immediately as the woman in Madame Leota's book. "What's wrong, Erik?"
"She . . . She . . . ," he stammered, but they immediately understood what he was trying to say and Martha covered her mouth to hide her fear.
"You can see me clearly, can't you?" Little Leota said in a normal volume and he nodded.
"No! I can't let that happen," Martha said as she grabbed onto Erik's hands. "I refuse to let you die. You have to live for Mélanie."
"He hasn't made his choice yet and I don't want to be scolded by my mother again for forcing them to choose something they have not fully grasped," she said with an almost child-like worry.
"But you have to convince him, Morella! Please, my daughter's life is in danger!"
"Morella?" Erik asked in confusion, but their frantic conversation overshadowed him.
"I vowed to only do that for children, like I did with Mélanie long ago, but adults are fully capable of making their own decisions. If he chooses to die, he can," Little Leota said, but she looked at the company surrounding them and noticed someone was missing. "Where's Henry?"
At the sound of his name, everyone lowered their heads and the men looked terrified. "H-H-H-He escaped," the skeletal man said.
"He what?" she repeated.
"The crypt was not strong enough to contain him, or at least, it was not enough to contain BOTH of him," the wet man said.
"W-We tried everything to stop him, but not even Martha's kind words could persuade him not to seek revenge," the misaligned man said.
"The man I spoke to was not the man I married," Martha said with regret as she turned to the men. "I'm so sorry that I was so blind to not see what he was truly capable of. I heard rumors, but I refused to believe them. It never crossed my mind that he would truly do such vile things to you four and toward this town, but hearing just how disgruntled the town was toward our family was eye-opening. I wish I could make amends, but it's too late now."
"It is for them, but it's not too late for Mélanie," Little Leota said as she turned to Erik. "It appears the Phantom is loose and it is up to you to stop him."
"I-I don't understand. Why is it all up to me?" Erik said, feeling overwhelmed by the scene in front of him.
"Do you remember the man that haunted your dreams for a while?"
Although he hadn't dreamt of him in a while, the thought of the skeletal man dressed in a purple suit sent chills down his spine. "Y-Yes?"
"You understand the duality of a person. Our phantoms are usually the side that hides our darkest secrets and for Henry, his phantom manifested into that form and he's not happy that he had to be hidden away so Henry could be a family man."
"I can't believe he held so much darkness in him to make that monster," Martha said with her head down, but the men put comforting hands on the matriarch.
"It might be silly of me to say, considering how things ended with Mélanie, but we all would have loved to have you as our mother-in-law," the clawed man said.
"It hurts to know such a kind-hearted woman was trapped in a house of pain, but hopefully you can find peace now that you're free," the wet man said.
"Iggy, Barry, Sawyer, Rowan, you were all worthy to marry my daughter. I'm so sorry that my husband refused to see that," she said before she turned back to Erik. "But I fear the same fate may befall Jake."
"Don't worry, he's not marked to die," Little Leota said with a soft smile. "But I'm not sure how that will play out in the future if Erik isn't around. He is the most knowledgeable man on the subject. Right, Mr. Phantom of the Opera?"
He was terrified to have his past on full display, but Martha laughed. "I had a suspicion, but my daughter was so desperate to have a music teacher that I chose to ignore it."
"S-So you're not scared of me?" he asked tenderly.
"Have you given me a reason to be scared?"
"The Opera Populaire . . . ," he started, but was afraid to complete his thought.
She put a hand on his shoulder as she stated, "We are not defined by our past and despite what you're capable of, I bet you never even had a thought of harming my family."
"After everything you have done for me, I would never."
"Then I trust you will continue to protect my daughter until she marries the man she loves with all her heart. You are the only one capable of doing that now that she is the last of the Ravenswood family."
"That is, if he chooses to," Little Leota reminded.
Martha sighed. "I know."
"C-Can I have a moment to process this?" Erik asked in an overwhelmed tone.
"You don't have to make a choice tonight. You have until your death date," Little Leota said in a reassuring voice.
"And that date would be?"
"That I have no control over, but it's getting closer if you can see my face."
"Th-Then excuse me for a moment," he said as he left the crypt, making sure no one was following him. As he could feel the cold desert air on his face, he leaned against the stone wall. He was aware that he was dreaming, but after seeing Madame Leota, he wasn't sure just how much of this was made up in his subconscious and how much of this was real. Visiting the land of the dead may have been made up, but if any of this was real, would that mean that the Ravenswoods were dead? And if that's the case, does that mean the town they visited was Thunder Mesa? How can a whole town be dead?
Even if everything else was made up, he knew Little Leota's warning was very much real and he could see the consequences when one didn't listen. He remembered what Madame Leota said about accepting her offer and wondered who would be the innocent that would take his place? That was the only thing that was preventing him from making a decision right away. People have died by his hand or inaction, but knowing his deliberate choice will put an unaware person to death was weighing on his conscience.
Out of nowhere, Erik noticed an emaciated brown dog heading his way, but it didn't look like it belonged in this world with its lack of a glow or decaying flesh. Though, if it was not helped soon enough, it probably would belong. It had big, sad eyes as it approached him and Erik bent down to look at his collar to find a name. "Goliath? More like Bones if you ask me," he darkly joked as he petted the dog. His fur was coarse and covered with dirt, but there was no obvious sign of mange. He wondered if the dog belonged to anyone and started walking away to find a potential owner.
However, a dog growl signaled a bite to his ankle and Erik tried to kick him off, but the once friendly dog had turned into a feral hellhound with glowing red eyes and blood-red gums that housed sharp teeth. Despite having a more skeletal appearance, it managed to pull him onto the ground and drag him. He tried fighting it off, but it only bit harder to cause him more pain. After some time, it dragged him to a large, dead oak tree and let him go, but when Erik collected himself, he saw a haunting image staring back at him.
"Long time, no see old chum," the Phantom said before cackling. Erik quickly got up to his feet and tried to run, but the bite sent a shock to his nerves and caused him to fall onto his knees. When he looked at the damage, it already looked infected, as if the bite was venomous. "There's no point in running off, Erik. After all, you are the man they claim can stop me."
"I never asked for this role," he grunted, but he felt the specter grab his throat and lift him into the air.
"But it is yours now, whether you want it or not. How cruel of the dead to put unneeded pressure on the living. But you and I aren't so different: two men who are forced to hide our anger to fit into society, but I say no more. I want to be free and I bet you do too. Perhaps you and I can strike a deal: you help me return to Paris and I can finish what I've started."
"Y-You're not going to . . . harm a hair on Mélanie or Jake," he gasped out. It was a weird sensation to be choked when he's done it to others for decades.
"Then I shall kill you instead," he said as he threw him into a coffin. Erik coughed as air filled his lung again, but before he could react, the dog barked and growled at him, forcing him to stay put. The Phantom grabbed the lid of the coffin as he threatened, "Mark my words, old friend: I will find you and that girl and make sure that only misery haunts that house."
He slammed the coffin door and Erik could feel the sensation of the coffin being dropped into a deep hole. He screamed as he pounded at the lid, hoping it would open, but no amount of strength would make it budge. The depth was impossible, but just like this canyon and the cemetery, there may be no end to it. He tried to mentally prepare himself to be falling forever, but luckily, the sensation didn't last long.
Erik shot up from his bed, nearly jumping out of it. His heart was still racing and his breaths were short and shallow. He could feel sweat dripping down his face and he wiped it off with his sleeve. It had been a while since he had an intense dream like this, but he wasn't sure just how much of that was a dream and how much of that was real. He quickly looked at his ankle, which luckily looked normal and sighed in relief.
He looked at the window and noticed a sliver of light coming through the curtain, most likely from where the crow made her exit. He decided to get out of bed and change clothes. Regardless how early it was, surely there was something he could do to take his mind off of things.
Though, as he passed by a clock, he realized it was already past 9 in the morning, way past breakfast. He rushed to the dining hall, where Mélanie and Jake were eating their meal in seemingly better spirits. "He lives," Jake announced as Erik walked to the table and quickly took a seat. It appears they already ate most of the food, so he took whatever scraps were left.
"We were worried that you wouldn't come downstairs," Mélanie said.
"S-Sorry. I guess I was more tired than I anticipated," he said as he started taking bites out of his food.
"Understandable. I thought I would have a hard time sleeping last night, but Jake was such a comforting presence that I was lulled to sleep quickly," she said with a smile.
"I tried to sing her a lullaby, but I don't know that many, so I sang the song we played at the Noel party," he said with slightly red cheeks.
"Does he need singing lessons, Mélanie?" Erik jabbed and her mischievous smile shocked Jake, but they all laughed.
However, the atmosphere changed when Anna and Jasper walked in with a newspaper in their hands. It was clear she had finished crying with her red eyes and smeared makeup, but Jasper tried his hardest to keep a straight face. The trio looked at them with worry in their faces, but all they did was put a newspaper on the middle of the table so all of them could read the headline
Arizona Mining Town Rocked by an Earthquake, Ravenswood amongst Hundreds Buried
Shock froze them all in place, but it was Jake who picked up the paper as Mélanie's eyes started to fill with tears. He read through it carefully and was in disbelief. "There was an earthquake in Thunder Mesa . . . a big one."
"Are there any survivors?" Erik said, fearing the worst.
"The whole town was swallowed up in a canyon formed by the earthquake. The only person to survive was an undertaker that was out of town at the time."
"My parents . . . ," she asked as they could see the tears pouring down her cheeks. "D-Did they . . . ,"
Jake didn't want to answer her, but there was no beating around the bush. "They were in town when it happened. . . . I'm so sorry."
At that moment, she started to sob into her hands and Jake was quick to comfort her. However, her next words would haunt Erik: "Madame Leota was right."