"Monsieur," Christine whispered softly. To her amazement, the sound carried through the corridors. He glanced back at her from his position in front of her.
"I was wonderingif you happened to know what that big window in the room along the lake is for?" The Persian thought for a moment, then stopped.
"Christine... I hope you see only the outside of that room, for the inside ... if you ever end up in it... will surely be the death of you." Christine's eyes grew wide as she tood there, soaking in what the Persian had said. She looked up and saw that before them was a fork in the passageway. The Persian cursed in French as he scrutinized the two identical passages. He wrung his hands as though he faced a choice between writhing in a pit of fire for eternity or an unending variety of torture.
After a couple of minutes of hesitation, he took the path to his left. They walked in silence for almost half an hour, never once turning off the straigh path. Then Christine drew her courage and asked, "Monsieur, I do hope you don't mind my asking, but what is so horrible about the room along the lake?" The Persian was quiet for a few moments then opened his mouth to answer, but stopped when he heard voicees echoing down the passage. He stood completely still, then held a finger to his lips. Christine stopped abruptly, trying to remain silent.
Christine listened carefully and heard the loud voices of two men. They appeared to be arguing, but about what, Christine did not know. Sudenly, the Persian whispered, "Whatever happens, stay here." Not two seconds after that, he crept off in the direction of the voices.
Christine waited pateintly at first, waiting for the Persian to return. Then as time stretched, Christine grew worried. She waited a couple more minutes, then started slowly through the passageway. The closwer she got, the quieter the voices became. Oddly enough, Christine wasn't suspicious about this. She walked in almost complete silence like that fo almost a quarter of an hour, then the path split into two. She spent a long while debating which path to take. She finally decided on the path to the right. After a short while she heard muffled voices, as though people were talking through a brick wall. She grew tired of walking after a while and decided to take a break. During this time she noted her surroundings. To either side were grey brick walls with torches spread out approximately ten feet and directly in front of her, in the distance was a dim light. It was only by the light that she knew she was dravelling in the correct direction. She heaved a sigh and continued until she was almost upon it, but suddenly, as if by magic, the floor seemed to vanish and she was falling.IT wasn't a long fall, but that must have been because someone caught her. She loked up to see the green eyes of the Persian. He slowly set her down on the cold stone floor.
"Where are we?" she asked. The Persian put an ebony finger to his lips as the two men's voices abruptly stopped talking.
"It appears we have another guest, Erik. Is that you, Christine?" one voice called.
Christine whimpered then stuttered, "Wh-who are you?"
The man chuckled then said softly, "I can't exactly tell you, my dear, for I don't know myself. For the time being you may call me Red Death."
At this statement the Persian let out a gasp, "You've been following us back in Persia... Erik and I... haven't you?"
"Have I?" he almost mockingly asked, over Red Death's talking she could hear Erik almost inhumanly growl from deep in his throat, "I wouldn't know..." he paused for amoment, "Now if you would please be quiet, for Erik and I have some... unfinished business to attend to," he paused then said to the man Christine once believed to be an angel, "I have a... proposition for you.... You want to kill the Viscount de Chagney, yes?" He paused for a single second then answered himself, "Yes you do, and don't deny it, because I know you do, I know a way you could do it." There was a short silence where Christine could be heard desperatly protesting, "and in return," he said, his eyes flitting to the torture chamber, "I can have Christine to myself."
"No, I won't have it!" Erik shouted over Christine's angry protests.
"Then you would rather than I did the deed?" he asked, then quickly added, "Which means, of course, that Iwll leave you to do what you will...." There was a long silence.
"Be careful what you choose, Erik, for many lives depend on your choice... I mean this most literally...." Red Death warned.
"You aren't making this any easier!" the Phantom snapped. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. When he opened them, his yellow eyes glowed, "Leave Christine to me and kill the Viscount how you wish." Red Death nodded, then reached up to release the Persian and Christine from the Torture Chamber's hot grasp.
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...
