Phantom of the Opera...continued...

The Room

    "So your saying that the place we are in is a cellar and this cellar was the Phantom's home?" you questioned the old man.  The old man only nodded at your question.

   "What happened to the Phantom?  Did he marry Christine?  Did he die of old age?"

   " That, child, we shall save for later.  I am tired and cannot talk about this no more."

    The old man went to his room and quickly fell asleep.  But you stayed in the candle-lit room and pondered on the picture of the girl.  It seemed so odd that it looked so familiar.  You have never even heard of this man.  He surely seemed like a historic figure of mystery that should be well-known across Europe yet the name didn't even cause a tinge of recognition.  After a while of thinking, you decided you did not want to think about it no more.  You decided that if you were to stay down in this cellar-like place then you might as well make yourself familiar with it.

    You opened the worn door that led out of the hidden house.  Stepping through the broken mirror once again, you looked both ways.  On the right, you saw the way in which you had come before.  Therefore you turned left and continued down the narrow balcony.  There was no sound to be heard, not even a slight wind in the air.  At the end of the balcony, you noticed a room and next to the room was a huge closet.  You figured that was where the phantom slept.  The room had no door.  It was covered by a thin sheet of red clothe that was tattered and worn by the years it endured.  Curiosity won you over and you decided to check it out.

    You walked  to the other side cautiously.  With each step the wood beneath you creaked.  You placed your hand on the railing beside you and felt the unique designs that were carefully carved into each one.  You envisioned the Phantom hard at work, carving each detail with such diligence.

    Before you knew it, you stood before the shabby red clothe.  You felt the softness of the material.  It still smelled like a newly bought dress, although it looked nothing like it.  Gently pulling it back, you observed the magnificent room that lay before you.  It was lit from one end to the other with glorious candles.  And in the middle stood the quaintest of beds.  It took the shape of a sea shell with red bed covers.  You walked into the room slowly, absorbing everything in. The room was ridden with age yet it maintained a supernatural radiance.  You ran your fingers through the bed covers.  They were silky and soft.  Then you walked the perimeter of the room, feeling the aged walls of stone.  It was cold and seemed untouched for years.  The corners of the walls harbored webs of dust and spiders.  You didn't particularly enjoy that part.  

    What felt felt hours swept by as you observed every detail that lay within the room.  Then with such unexpected and unwelcome intrusion, the old man popped into the room, grabbed you by the arm and dragged you away from the room.  He began to yell at you.  You looked into his eyes with such confusion as he stared at you with concern and anger.

   "What do you think you are doing?!  Do you not understand that this place is spooked and we are unwelcome guests?!  You are going to get yourself into big trouble.  Don't you ever wander out her alone and don't you ever touch the things that lay within the Phantom's home!"

   Fear struck your heart once again as you cried back, "But why?!  Have you not touched his things and are you not alive?  What will happen if I touch his things!  Isn't he dead?  So what would it matter?"

   "Because you do not know the horrors that lay within these walls," he exclaimed with a hard look in his eyes, "I do.  And yes I have touched his things and have payed dearly for it.  Just because a man is dead does not mean his spirit will not live on.  His spirit is alive and well.  It crawls within these walls.  If you do not respect him, you may pay dearly for it as I have."

    "What has he done to you?"

    "Come.  I do not like to talk about it out here."

    So you followed the old man back to his mysterious room, stepped into the broken mirror, and walked back into the candle-lit glow of the small hole-of-a-house.