The Man Behind the Monster: Phantom of the Opera Story

4: The Encounter

He forcefully pulled me up to my feet and pulled me out of the small room. His tight grip on my wrist was painful. I felt as though he could break my wrist with his strength. I tried my hardest to pull away from his grip.

"Please Monsieur, you're hurting me." my trembling voice spoke, as the tears, which accumulated in my eyes, threatened to fall.

He came to a sudden halt and turned around to face me. He forcefully grabbed my shoulders and lowered his head to be equal to mine.

"How did you know how to find this place?", his very loud, intimidating voice spoke to me.

"I..I..", my voice was stuck in my throat. I wasn't able to form words because I was so scared.

He gave me a stern look and tightened the grip he had on my shoulders.

"If I told you Monsieur, you wouldn't believe me. No one ever believes me.", I whispered, as I looked down towards the ground.

"Care to enlighten me then?",  he said, his voice still dripping with anger.

"Monsieur, I can see things, in my mind. I saw a mirror and followed my thoughts down here. I, um, I saw Christine leave here with you.", I quietly said as my eyes returned back to his face.

He released the tight grip he held on my arms and took a few steps away from me.

"Do you know who I am, Elizabeth?", he said facing away from me, looking back at the exit of this cave.

How did this man know my name?

"Yes, Monsieur. You're... you're the Phantom of the Opera.", I hesitated to say.

"Ah, yes, the Phantom of the Opera. If I am the Phantom, it is because man's hatred has made me so.", he said mockingly. "Tell me Elizabeth, has you gift shown you what resides under this mask?"

"No, Monsieur.", I responded to him. "It's random images, really. How do you know my name?"

"Why, this is my opera house. I know everyone.", he said, rather atonally.

He stayed quiet for quite some time. He just stood there, gazing off into the distance.

"Can I ask you a question, Monsieur?", I asked, breaking his focus.

He looked back at me, not really giving me an answer.

"Why did you yell at Christine like that?", I said, fiddling with my fingers as I looked back to the ground. "Why was she down here?"

Why did I ask that? I'm so stupid for asking. It is just going to make him even more angry that I have already made him.

"She disobeyed me. She saw..", he said, but didn't finish his sentence. There was no emotion in his voice. "She saw my face. No one is ever allowed to see my face. I could see the fear in her eyes.  I wanted.. I wanted her to be my star. She has the voice of a true angel. I want her to replace that Carlotta, but no one ever listens."

I didn't know how to respond or what to do. He looked as though he was hurt, not physically, but emotionally hurt. I just slightly nodded my head as I looked down to my hands once again, fiddling around with my fingers. It was silent for a few moments.

"Come, we must return. Those fools who run my theater will be missing you.", he spoke, reaching out his hand for me to take.

I hesitantly placed my hand in his. I expected us to head back through the entrance in which I came, but he turned and started heading the opposite way. I turned my head back towards the gate, as he lead me through another passageway that was hidden behind a curtain. Please, oh please, tell me he's not leading me into a trap. I was quite nervous and frightened as I followed him.

"You shall tell no one of this.", I heard him say. This passageway was very dimly light. He slightly turned his head to look back at me. I nodded my head as to acknowledge what he had just said. I don't want him yelling at me the same way he yelled at Christine.

When we reached the end of the tunnel, we were greeted by a stone wall. How was I to get out if there was no door? Oh no, he did lead me into a trap!

He let go of my hand and slipped into the darkness. I had no idea of far he had gone. I feared he had just left me there. He returned shortly with a ladder and positioned for it to rest against a ledge on the ceiling. He climbed up the ladder and pushed on the ceiling. It opened to reveal my way out.

"Until next time...", he spoke as I climbed the ladder.

Before I had reached the top, I looked back down to him. Next time?

I didn't question him and just headed through the door. I found myself  standing in the middle of the stage. A trap door? How did we not know of a trap door?

He climbed back up the ladder to close the door, and with that, he was gone.

Next time? What did he mean by next time?