It's Just Begun, The Music Of The Night

Chapter Five.

Hours passed by, it seemed as though the world was going to end with each stroke of the clock that passed. Everything was a blur, her memory, the room, everything.

Madame Giry had told her the minute they entered, after the horrid nightmare, that she should change out of her costume and go to bed. She said she would go check on the wellbeing of things and had not returned since.

The room was dark as all the lamps had gone out a long time ago. She hadn't even gotten to the chair which could support this heavy burden she felt, instead she had collapsed on the strangely cold carpet. It was soft and comforting but she couldn't help but wonder about the eerie coldness it had to it.

When she finally gained control over her tears, she got up and changed from her costume into her night clothes. Before she walked out of the dressing room, she examined everything closely through her tears. There was another presence in the room, no one could be seen, but it was there.

"Angel, is that you?" She managed through sobs.

There was only silence.

"Angel, please, if you can hear me...You don't have to respond, but please, just listen." She tried again and this time she swore she heard a slight movement from somewhere in the dressing room.

"I just...I'm not mad, Angel. Why didn't you tell me there was an Opera Ghost before? All I want is for you to protect me from him...I'm scared, and with papa..." Her sobs began violently again and her body shook.

Emmy's Angel of Music was silent, that is, if he was even there listening to her. Finally she broke down on the floor again, but this time she cried herself to sleep.

About an hour later, the mirror of the dressing room slid open, revealing only a black silhouette, a shadow against the darkness which had engulfed the room. The figure moved towards the sleeping girl and released a long suppressed sigh.

He had been watching her this whole time, not knowing if he even knew quite what was going on, he had been working on music when he heard Emelia's door slam close. He picked her up, careful not to wake her, and went back through the mirror. She was carried through many long corridors until, finally he carried her through another mirror.

At last they entered her lightless bedroom. It was just as dark as the dressing room had been, for no lamps had been lit. He carefully walked through, not sure if things were strewn about the floor, towards her bed. Carefully he laid her against the soft mattress and took a step back.

He watched her quietly as she slept in her hurt yet serene state and contemplated kissing her perfect lips. It may have been dark, but his eyes were trained to the dark, he could see everything clearly. Surely if he kissed her she would awaken and scream at the horrid sight which he was.

He reached a hand up to make sure his mask, which covered the plague with which he had been born, was still there. The ugly deformations remained hidden, and if he could, he would keep it that way. Eventually, he would have to reveal himself to Emmy, maybe not his face, but the rest of him. All he wanted was someone to love him, and he believed teaching her would make her fall for him, after all, he knew his voice was beyond amazing.

Gently, he caressed a smooth cheek with his leathery glove, careful not to wake her from her slumber. He couldn't stand it when she cried, it was as though he had made her cry and he only wanted her to be happy.

Deep down, he knew that things would probably end up as they had the last time, she would pretend to love him, find someone else and then leave him. It was fact to him that, if it happened again, he would no doubt die from the heartbreak. He had attempted to take his life when Christine Daae left him, even the name brought back the heartache.