It's Friday! Whoo hoo!
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I drop down to my knees in the small grass patch and raise my hands, as if I were praising the sun. I take my phone out of my pocket and throw it along the ground. On the screen, the message of it saying that the phone is charging pops up. I plop against the ground, letting the sunlight warm me up.
Five minutes pass, and I check my phone, seeing that it's now at fifty-five percent.
'That could last a long while if I do nothing with it, and only use it as a translator. That would work.'
Three more minutes pass and I see that it is fully charged now. I change all the settings to make it on minimal brightness and other low settings that will help the battery last longer.
Then I make a run to get back into the house, which I should have slowed down when I reached the door, because when I got back to the room I woke up in, the Phantom rises to his feet, alert.
"Is something wrong?"
"No, just was trying to be back in before the ten minutes is up. Thank you."
"You are most welcome...miss...?" he waits for me to fill in to know my name.
"Meg." I say. "My nickname is Meg. The full is Megan."
"Ah." At first he's calm about it, and then his mood changes, like he's in shock, or something. "Interesting name." He says after a minute. "As you read the note, and probably heard around the streets of Paris, I am the Opera Ghost, also known as the Phantom. And you know why I hide."
"Hence the mask." I say.
"Which you are not to ask about, ever." He walks up to me, and towers over me. "Now that I am back, I will show you around the house, tell you what is expected of you, and what you are to do. Come."
He leads me all around his house, through the hallway with the door leading to the trap door under the stage, around the living room, and his bedroom. In there, there is a coffin, his choice of sleeping quarters, and as he said, which was something a dead man must get used to, the perfect place for someone like him. Along one of the walls is his organ, and along the stands is the music for 'Don Juan Triumphant.'
I don't get to question anything before he whisks me away to show me more of his house.
All the time there, I knew what to expect, but it seems to me he is a little giddy, like he loves the fact that someone else is here with him. But I know who he's really interested, so what do I matter to him?
'Obviously something, or else something else could have happened to you, something bad even.'
He shows me around the kitchen, and other rooms I didn't notice. He leads me back to the hallway with all the other rooms.
"Obviously you found the one that leads to the stage. The one right next to us on our right leads up, and the one on our left leads in a different direction. The other four are too long and windy that I will have to show you a different way. Come with me through this door." We go through the door on our right.
The door presents some stairs, and we climb them. They aren't just straight up. They curve, twist, and go in several directions, but not at once. He almost runs up them, and I jog behind because I'm terrible at taking stairs. As we continue onward, the Phantom slows down, signals me to do the same, and continues quietly. I try to copy his footsteps.
We reach the catwalk, the place above the stage with all the robes and such. Below, talking goes on, but no one suspects we are here. The Phantom signals me to stay right at the door. He peers over the railing of the catwalk, and then signals me to follow him.
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Let Your Fantasies Unwind
FanfictionWhat if the Phantom wasn't alone pulling off all those tricks? What if he had an assistant? And what if his assistant knew him? This is the story of Megan Williams, a girl from the future with a passion for Phantom of the Opera, the fictional world...