"Erik! How could you let her go free! This is what you wanted, isn't it?" Red Death shouted.
"You don't know her like I do. She wanted to go. I didn't stop her," Erik said calmly.
"Ys, yes, of course and I'm secretly a mass murderer." he chuckiled at the irony of the statement, "I'm sure we both know that she was the one that escaped while you wept." The Phantom sighed in exasperation.
'Fine," he growled, "believe what you will, but I will know the truth."
'What will this be... the third girl you've let go in the year I've been here." Red death mused, "At the rate you're going at, you'll have 'taught' all the chorus girls in the Opera by next year!" he said, feigning surprise as he preteneded to have calculated fake figures. Erik rolled his eyes and turned angrily on his heel, starting to pace, struggling to hold in his anger. He heard Red Death walk towards the torture chamber by the lake.
"You know, it's such a shame that I haven't seen this chamber at work... though, I'm sure it's victims are scarce and few, aren't they?"
"I'm sure that you could change that..." the Phantom muttered under his breath.
"I'm sure it's seen the likes of many people, back in Persia."
"How..." the Phantom inquired, 'do you know about that?"
"I've heard rumors..." Red Death said after a pause, "I'm not as clueless as you think, Erik."
"I never said that I thought you were..."
"I know that you think it, though you were..."
"I know that you think it, though, I see it in your eyes."
"My eyes?" Erik repepated, his own yellow eyes staring into his companion's green ones.
'Yes, and don't think I don't know about your friend the daroga."
"Daroga..." Erik trailed off, thinking about some of his last words to the Persian telling him not to come back to the House on the Lake. He had broken his word once, but that had been under special circumstances not that it mattered, of course. That had been over a year ago.
"Wh-what do you know about the torture chamber?"
"Not very much, only I've heard," Red Death answered vaguely.
"And that would be....?" the Phantom asked imaptiently.
"That would be that many woman have eneded up in that chamber," Red Death smiled dirtily, "and a lot haven't escaped."
***
A couple hours ago, Christine Daee had woken up in her dressing room. It seemed to Raoul that she had lost her sanity as she had constantly muttered about the Phntom staring at her, hisyellow eyes glowing with anger and his mask off. She talked about his horrid, blackene face with the small red patches of skin. Finally, Raoul had had to leave, for if he didn't he would surely go insane.
About ten minutes after the Viscount de Chagney left, a man in persian robes knocked on the young soprano's door.
'Come in," Christine called. The door opened and a persian man walked in.
"Bonjour, I do hope that I'm not bothering you, Miss Daae." the man said, standing by the door.
"No, monsieur," she said, gazing thoughtfully at the mirror. She sighed then looked back at the man.
"Is something on your mind?" he asked.
"No..." she started, then she changed her mind, "Well, yes, actually...." Christine shook her head and laughed, standing up and walking to the mirror, "Oh, never mind, you'll probably think me mad."
"Please, madame," he insisted, "tell me, I promise that I will not judge you."
"You've sure?" she questioned and when he nodded, she began to tell her tale. The man muttered to himself while she talked, as though taking notes. When Christine told the man of the two identical men she thought that she had seen, she heard him whisper something about there being "another in the cellars." After she finished telling her story, theman shook his head, obviously lost in thuoght.
"Sir," she paused as the man looked up, "do you happen to know anything about him? About Erik?"
"My dear," he said, looking straight into her eyes, "I know more about him than you can imagine."
"What do you mean? she asked, slightly frightened at this knowledge.
He sighed, "I have known the Opera ghost for many years..." he whispered, "since he was fifteen." he shook his head.
"Sir... I do not like to ask, but who are you and..." she paused, "why do you know so much?"
"You may know me as most, if not all of Paris does. I am the Persian." he said, "My dear, I know nothing compared to he who lives on the House on the Lake. He has travelled the world and has come to know a few of its secrets,"
"So... you say that you know Erik, but--"
"Shh!" the Persian looked around anxiously, "please do not even whisper his name, for he might be near and hear us."
"Sir, I am not doubting you, for you must know E--him," she caught herself quickly, "very well, but I do not think any harm will come to us from his hands."
"Miss Daae, while you are correct in assuming that my knowledge of him is great, and I thank ou greatly for such a compliment," he bowed, "you are wrong to assume that no harm might be besowed upon us, for he did horrible things in the past." When Christine parted herlips to question him, he added, "Things too horrible to repeat."
Christine sighed, looking at the mirror once again, "I fear that he will come for me..." she whispered, suddenly clinging to the Persian (who was the closest person available) in fright.
"Christine," he started, then Christine, realizing what she had done, pushed herself away from the Persian, "everything will be alright." There was a small silence, then Christine asked in a soft voice, "Have you actually seen it?"
"It?" he questioned shortly.
"His face. Have you seen it?"
"Of course I have."
"Without the mask?"
"Yes," he said. He did nothing but blink, but in that second she knew the Persian's mind was far from the dressing room, perhaps reliving the past.
"Monsieur... PPersian?" the man's head snapped around and he turned his face to Christine who said, "While I was explainingmy... experience... I told you about the two Ang--I mean men--I saw," she quickly corrected herself, fighting back tears, "Do you think I was imagining these things?"
"You said the man in the mirror wore only red and black?" he inquired.
"Yes," Christine answered, "Why?"
"I have a feeling that I've seen him before... in Persia."
"In Persia? Surely you must be mistaken!" she said, panicking slightly.
"I believe there is but one way to find out," he said, joining her at the mirror.
YOU ARE READING
2 Phantoms 1 Opera House (Original, unedited story)
Fanfiction((The Original version of my most read story "Two Phantoms, One Opera House.)) The Phantom of the Opera has lived in the Opera house for years, but now his peace has been invaded by a man who calls himself Red Death. Nothing is known about this man...
