One Night with the Angel of Doom (Phantom of the Opera) (Short Story)

Chapter 2

A week has passed since I fled the apartment of the Angel of Doom.

I am cold. The desert isn't warm at night and I have nothing. The gold my master was generous enough to bestow upon his servant girl was stolen the first night, save for a few pieces I had slipped into my undergarments.

I was fortunate enough to escape with my life and virginity.

I fear staying on the streets. I fear returning to my master. He instructed me to be careful with the gold and I lost it! I fear his wrath.

But, as I am finding out, the stomach calls loudly and I cannot resist its pleading for sustenance which I will only find in the apartment of the Angel of Doom.

I make my way to the palace gates and whimper as I see the guards. I cannot slip by them. I am too weak to the climb the walls and they won't let me inside.

I look like a beggar now.

Tears streak down my cheeks as I turn away and hide myself in some bushes, hoping the leaves will block some of the night wind.

Then, I form a plan. My master rides frequently between the current palace the one he is building some miles away. I shall wait for him to leave and then, on my hands and knees, plead for him to help me.

Even if that help is merely to strangle the breath from my lungs.

I have been faced with the reality that I am incapable of living on my own. No one wants a rejected harem girl.

I was a fool that night to believe that one could survive on gold alone.

If my old master doesn't want me, perhaps he will grant me mercy and end my existence.

I must hide and wait. And pray he leaves before I weaken too severely to ask for his aid.

X

The girl never leaves my mind. For the past week the scent and feel of her have haunted my nightmares. Even opium gives no relief.

Nadir and I do not speak of her and so I have no name for her.

Last night was no exception from the dreams and as I prepare for a day at the work site. Her image must be forced from my mind. I will concentrate on my work and forget the girl who I will never see.

Why must I be a monster?

I leave the palace in a hurry, my black mood following me like my black cloak. The sun has barely risen and I know I look like the devil I am.

My horse waits at the gate, held by a quaking guard. I snatch his reins away from the man and swing into the saddle. The guards at the gate step several feet away from me as I spur the creature away.

I barely make a hundred yards before I see a black lump lying in the road.

As I draw near, the lump looks up at me, brown eyes laced with tears and black hair matted.

Her.

I stop the horse in front of her but do not dismount.

"Master..." Her voice is too weak for me to hear it properly. Her racing pulse is visible in her neck and her breathing is labored.

I should leave her in the road.

She didn't obey me and is paying for it.

But I can't.

I dismount my horse and kneel beside her.

Her dress is torn. She is covered in mud. Her hand reaches towards me and she faints. I gather her in my arms. A woman is lying in my arms. A living, breathing woman. I swallow nervously and slowly climb back onto my horse, her balanced neatly in the crooks of my arms.