Author's Note:
Dear Readers,
Fun Fact: the Swedish do not have a "Boogeyman" as a part of their lore. As close as they come is Monstret Under Sängen , meaning Monster Under the Bed.
sarahlet2999
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Oh, why did they have to put the girl in that room?
Why couldn't they have installed her in another room while the dormitories were under renovation?
Ever since he had moved under the Opera, the small closet had become the quickest, if simplest way of leaving the cellars. A small catch and sliding panel were enough to keep the place a secret. And, until recently, it had been completely deserted save for the occasional washerwoman who had been left scared and wondering why the Opera Ghost haunted storage closets.
But now, one of those pesky ballet rats had been tucked away inside the tiny room, inspiring him with an twinge of desire to make a gruesome example of her.
Only a twinge, mind you.
He didn't murder women as a habit.
Besides, this girl was no more than a child, appearing swallowed by the small cot. Her blond hair, chopped short to avoid lice infestations, stuck out at odd angles. A few locks fell into her face and lifted with every breath.
Such a still child. If he hadn't seen the breath, he might have thought she slept the sleep of the dead.
Deciding the child wasn't likely to wake, he closed the sliding panel and began to inch towards the door. In times before, he hadn't cared if his foot struck the creaky board but now, every step proved a trial.
CREAK!
Every muscle in his body locked, the flight instinct engaging. But, the girl appeared to have not awoken, merely shifted in her little cot. Relaxing, he shifted his narrow weight.
CREAK!
Bleary blue eyes opened and a shadow vanished into the darkest corner of the closet. The panel stood too far away and it wouldn't do for the girl to begin screaming. It would never do!
In the pitch dark, lit only by the sliver of light from beneath her door, the girl's gaze darted about, crystalline blue barely visible.
"Who's there?" Her tiny voice whispered, fear written across those full pink cheeks and trembling jaw.
He remained silent, locking his muscles to avoid another error like the one which had landed him in this predicament. Her tiny hands pulled the thin blanket closer to her chin and soon, only her eyes could be seen.
"Please, answer me!" She squeaked. "Are...Are you Monstret Under Sängen?"
His smattering of Swedish and firm grasp of various other languages made a mostly accurate translation possible. Yes, I am a monster under the bed. No, I am always a monster, under a bed or not.
Seeing no way of getting out of the situation, he latched onto the Swedish title.
"Ja." The girl trembled even more, the blankets obviously quaking.
"Please don't hurt me. I've been good!" The fingers which clutched the blankets turned white at the knuckles.
"I am not here to harm you." He quickly dispelled her concerns even if he had considered making a spectacle of her corpse. Yes, that need never be spoke of.
"Then, why are you here?
"I was merely passing through while looking for little girls who hadn't been good. Go to sleep, little one. Monstret Under Sängen shall not harm you this night."
After so little recent contact with humans, he had forgotten how his voice affected them for the girl immediately relaxed and snuggled deeper into her covers, not out of fear but comfort.
"You promise?" She whispered.
"I promise." Her eyes fluttered closed and he waited, watching her breathing but finding it wouldn't return back to the calm rhythm of sleep.
So, softly, he began to sing.
The girl fell asleep in moments.
The night passed quickly for the Opera Ghost, or Monstret Under Sängen as he had been dubbed. After watching the rehearsals, he was pleased to note the presence of the blond child he had met the night before.
It wouldn't do to be seen.
As he stepped through the small closet, bent on his sliding panel, he noticed a letter sitting at the foot of her cot. Perhaps he shouldn't have pried into her personal things but peering down at it, he found it was addressed to him...or, rather, his new title.
Tearing open the small letter, he glanced through it, groaning as he encountered more Swedish. Of course, she would think a Swedish specter could read her native tongue.
Käre Monstret Under Sängen,
Jag är ledsen att jag var rädd för dig i går kväll. Jag frågade Meg och hon försäkrade mig att du bara komma för dem som har varit dålig. Om jag är alltid bra, skulle du komma tillbaka för att besöka mig? Jag är ensam och du sjunger så vackert.
Christine
After some brief study, he concluded she wished for him to come back and sing for her.
"I shall work on my Swedish."
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Author's Note:
LETTER TRANSLATION:
Dear Monstret Under Sängen,
I am sorry I was scared of you last night. I asked Meg and she assured me that you only come for those who have been bad. If I am always good, would you come back to visit me? I am lonely and you sing so prettily.
Christine
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Monstret Under Sängen (Phantom of the Opera)
FanficWhat would have happened if Christine had believed the Phantom to be Monstret Under Sängen, the Swedish version of the Boogeyman, instead of her beloved, Angel of Music? Author's Note: If you are looking for something with tension, drama, and dark a...
