Mask of Red Death (A Phantom of the Opera Phan Fic)

Another Voice ~ Chapter 16

Erik stood in front of one of the scratched mirrors in his lair. He very gingerly stitched the deep cut on his side. Every time the needle pricked his skin, his muscles tensed in defiance.

"Do you want me to help you?" Angeline offered sweetly.

Erik turned to her. "C-Could you?" Pain danced in his voice.

Angeline smiled and took the needle. "I'll finish. You stay calm okay."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Peter rummaged through the shed behind his house. He was looking for anything and everything he could use against the Phantom. Rope, gasoline, baseball bat, matches, and especially his switchblade. He was going to use that only if things got out of hand.

He shoved everything into an old backpack and rushed out the shed door. "I'll get you Phantom...you'll pay."

He hurried along the avenue toward the Opera Populaire. His bandaged head thumping with each foot step. Not only had the rock cut Peter's head, it had also left a long scar on his left eye up to his hair line.

It was like a mocking symbol. The Phantom was scarred from love, and now Peter was scarred by the very man who desired to take his love. It was petty and childlike, but Peter was angry and out for final revenge.

As he neared Opera Populaire, everything seemed to be in an eerie silence. Maybe it was just Peter's head playing trick, but he could feel an uneasy presence as he neared the steps of the opera house.

His heart rate increased as his foot touched the first step. "Calm now. We have to finish this." Peter tried to reassure himself.

Peter took another step, and then another. Finally at the front doors. Those grand doors mocked him, as if they knew something he didn't. Peter pushed one open. It made a horrible squeaking noise.

"Shut up you stupid door!" He whisper-yelled.

He walked through and shut it carefully. "Okay, Phantom...let's play a game." Peter smirked and sneaked off to set some traps.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Angeline pressed some rags with alcohol on them onto the freshly mended wound.

"OUCH!" Erik cursed and held his side.

"Ah! I gentleman never curses." Angeline corrected him.

Erik glared at her with fiery eyes. "THEN DON'T USE....WHAT EVER THAT IS!" He pointed toward the rag.

Angeline put her hands on her hips. "Erik, this is so you don't get an infection. Now hold still." She applied it again, and Erik jerked a little.

She finished quickly and applied a clean bandage.

Erik looked at his fixed up wound in the mirror. "Thank you, nurse." He smirked.

Angeline giggled. "Sure thing."

Erik walked toward the wardrobe and pulled out a clean shirt. He put it on and then walked out of the bedroom. "I'm going to box five for some...thinking, I suppose." He said to Angeline.

Angeline nodded, "Fair enough."

Erik pushed away one of the curtains and disappeared out of Angeline's sight.

In her mind she thought she really loved Erik. Maybe he was a little older than she, but perhaps it didn't really matter. They were similar in many ways. Both had short tempers, (not an encouraging combination, however) both had been hurt by people, both had scars, and both loved one another. It sounded okay, right?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Peter sat quietly, not moving and barely breathing. He had his traps set; he knew how this was going to work. He was stationed in box five. Everything mapped; planned out precisely.