Limelight

Chapter Twenty Two: Torture Chamber

Chapter Twenty Two: Torture Chamber

November 5th, 1910

I had thrown my ice skates to the side and ran on my bare feet; I carried a lantern and attempted to avoid sharp, hidden objects on the stone floor. The floor was surprisingly warm, and very dusty in the third cellar; we were all running as fast as we could, in the dark, with two little beams of red light from our lanterns guiding the way. I ran behind the priest, who, was leading the way despite never having been in the cellars of the Opera Populaire; behind me ran Victoria and behind her came Megan, bringing up the tail was Darius. "Priest, priest, have they began to duel already?" Asked Victoria with a huff from behind me.

"Call me Father, child, and no, they have not; for, the Opera Ghost and the Persian have not discovered the Vicomte Benjamin yet." Answered the Priest; I was relieved and felt spirited again, that's when I remembered the siren. I told everyone of the siren as we ran and the priest stopped, causing me to knock into him; pushing him down, Victoria then knocked into us...which made Megan knock into her...and lastly, making Darius join the jumble as well. We all sat in the human jumble for a few moments, too tired to untangle ourselves, we just breathed; I then told them all of how I got past the siren, the priest was first to speak.

"You mustn't sing this time, Elizabeth de Chagny! We need to be stealthy...or...we could..." The priest began to explain his plan into our open ears.

Twenty minutes later, on the shores of the lake...

I slowly got into the gondola, taking up the paddle and quietly pushing myself through the ink colored water. Then, I heard the heavenly singing again; entrancing me. I sighed happily and looked forwards to see the house upon the lake! It had taken me longer to paddle to the middle of the lake last time than it took me to get to the shores of the house this time! My brows furrowed at this thought, then, I realized that I wasn't paddling any longer; but the gondola was still moving!

I turned to find two wet hands grasping the gondola, pushing it along. These hands didn't look normal, no, not normal at all; these hands were as white as pure snow and the fingers were the size of a pen! The hand's fingernails were long, but clean, and sharp; the fingers were very bony. I then felt the small boat bump against the shore, but the hands remained; slowly, cautiously, I moved towards the hands and touched one. The hand shot back into the water, I gasped, but the other hand remained; slowly, gently I reached out again, but this time, I completely laid my hand on the cold, wet one.

The hand did not move, that's when I remembered that the 'siren' was actually the Opera Ghost singing through a reed! So, this was the Opera Ghost's hand? This is what his hands look like, outside of his black gloves? I sighed and leaned down to it, removing my hand and kissing the top of the 'siren's hand. Now, I felt someone grasp my dress and yank me from the small boat; I quickly turned to find the Persian, with an angry expression on his face, standing before me.

I gave an idiotic smile, and out of the lake, behind me, emerged the Opera Ghost; soaking wet from head to toe. The Opera Ghost walked beside the Persian and the two of them crossed their arms, simultaneously; I gave a nervous giggle and pointed towards the other shore. "I brought a priest" Said I, giving another asinine smile; the Opera Ghost sighed in frustration and rubbed his face, whilst the Persian shook his head.

"We told you, specifically, not to come to the Opera Populaire! So, what do you do? Elizabeth...is everyone else with you?" Asked the Persian, looking up to me with his eyes of jade; the Opera Ghost stared at me also. I nodded and the Persian hit his head with his hands "I'm going to kill Darius" he hissed; balling his hands into fists, I quickly shook my head.

"No, no, no, no! Darius was the only one protesting against the idea of coming here!

...I just wanted to find a priest...and I got so wrapped up...it's my fault, Daroga, I'm sorry; I'll go back to the others." Said I, turning to the small boat; I was stopped by the Persian's hand on my arm. "No, Elizabeth" the Persian sighed "you're already here, but, you will remain locked in a bedroom; where you're safe.

The Opera Ghost will turn the others back to my home, where you two will be married." Said the Persian, that's when I remembered the priest's condition for marrying the Opera Ghost and I. I gave an exclamation that made the Opera Ghost stop from entering the lake again. "The priest that agreed to marry us" I started, walking over to him and holding his hands "will only marry us on the condition that you tell me your real name, he said that I 'can't call you the Opera Ghost for an eternity'....there's not many other priests that will marry us, my sweet, so I...agreed. But if it's not fine with you we can--" I attempted to say, but the Opera Ghost put his long, index finger to my lips, hushing me.

"No, my angel of music, it is around the time that I must tell you, and show you, who the Opera Ghost really is. I will tell you what the Opera Ghost's real name is, when our vows have been said and the ring of my love is again gracing your finger; when your white dress sparkles and we both utter the words 'I do', that is when, my angel, that is when you will hear my name." The Opera Ghost said, leaning down to me and kissing my cheek; I had to take of my ring and give it to the decided flower girl, my sister, Victoria. I didn't want him to let go, but, he must, so with that; he walked back into the lake, to send the others back to Rue de Rivoli. The Persian grasped my arm and pulled me into the house upon the lake, the Persian then pushed me into the same bedroom with the grey, shell bed I woke up in days beforehand!

With a warning of not to leave, the Persian left me to my thoughts; I sat down upon the shell bed, and that's when I heard my name being whispered. All of a sudden, the closet closed and out stepped a very dirty, stained Vicomte Aaron Benjamin; I ran to the bedroom door and began pounding on it, screaming for the Persian. The door slowly opened, and I ran out, the Vicomte striding after me; as I entered the hallway I saw the Persian upon the floor with a bleeding temple, I checked his pulse, thankfully, he was still alive. I heard the Vicomte's step in the hallway, so I ran to a white, wooden door with a silver knob; threw it open, and quietly closed it behind me. I held my breath as I heard the Vicomte calling me to come out, I held my tongue; that's when a light came on in the room I was in.

This room was hexagonal shaped with mirrors covering the walls, and in one corner of the room there was an iron tree with iron branches; below that there was a noose looking thing. Those mirrors were about two feet taller than the Opera Ghost...three feet taller than I! I quickly looked up, towards the light, and saw a small window where the Vicomte's face was; he was smirking, which made my blood boil. "Do you know what room you're in, lovely? I do, it is your Opera Ghost's torture chamber!

That's right, you walked straight into a torture chamber; ah, but where is the door? Can you not find it from the illusions of the mirrors?" The Vicomte stopped and his smirk grew "Ah, look here, I can turn up the heat! Now, dearest, I have a bargain for you; you agree to marry me to-night and I won't fry you to a crisp. What say you to that?"

Asked he, raising an eyebrow to me and smiling; my anger had taken hold of me."I would rather burn in hell for all eternity than agree to marry you!" I hissed, fire in my eyes; the Vicomte sighed and shook his head. That's when I felt the room gradually grow hotter, and hotter, and hotter; until I had stripped off the top layers of my dress and sweat was rolling down my forehead and creating pools on the ground. My mouth was open and sucking in thick, hot air; my tongue dried and shriveled to almost nothing.

I coughed and fell against a mirror, it was steaming hot! I cried out and fell to the ground, groaning and gently holding my burned arm; I laid on my back and outstretched my arms, closing my eyes and feeling the heat come in waves over my body. My lips cracked and began to bleed whilst I had to keep blinking every second or so to keep my eyes from drying out; my throat turned dusty and I thought I could feel my skin bubbling. Again the Vicomte's face appeared in the small window and said that if I would marry him, the torture would stop; "n-never" I whispered as loud as I could. He walked away, my eyes closed, and I laid in the heat of the torture chamber for god knows how long.

Then, in my exhaustion, I started to think....why would the Opera Ghost need a torture chamber, anyways?