Crescent Angel (A Phantom of the Opera Phanfiction)

Chapter 19: Desperate People Do Desperate Things

I am so sorry for the wait, guys! The play I am in is coming up in a week, and practice has been persistent and incessant these past few weeks. I haven't had a lick of time to work through the writer's block, either. I hope you all like the chapter. It was hard to work through the wall in my grapefruit!

Enjoy

<><><><><><><><>

(Charlotte)

Pain buzzed through my head and spine as I slowly woke up. The room was dark, too black to see in, and the air around me was freezing. Almost like I was inside of an ice chamber. I shivered irritably and tried to bend my aching arms. When I couldn't, I realized they were shackled above my head, all the blood leaving my hands. Where the hell was I?

My lips cracked as I parted them, weakly sucking in a deep breath. Something warm rolled down my face, a slight stinging coming from the source. My memory was fuzzy, but I sure remembered that voice. That bastard voice. The thing was...

I didn't know who it belonged to. So, I didn't know who my kidnapper was.

"...Hello?" I called out like a mouse. My voice echoed in the basement-like room, and a sudden wave of anger washed over my. A deep, animalistic growl sounded in my throat as I bared my teeth. "Show your face, you peasant!" My voice cracked and scratched my throat. "Who are you? And why do you want me?"

Silence.

"I know you're in here," I sensed his presence, lifting my head from my chest. My eyes burned from the dust all around the cold room. A low chuckle filled the air then. It was the same on from last night. "Who are you?"

"In due time, you'll find out," the man said, his footsteps tapping along the cement floor. I exhaled deeply, my lungs aching.

"What time of day is it?" I asked quietly, my throat hurting from my outburst. "How long have I been here?"

The man paced by me. I couldn't see anything. Not even his outline. "Three days," he said slyly.

I yanked on my shackles, pain running down my arms. "Three days?! You son of a--"

"Ah, ah," the man cut me off, "swearing isn't ladylike."

"I'll show you ladylike," I growled viciously, yanking my wrists on the cuffs again. The chain strained. My muscles felt like they were on fire as a sudden strength came over me. I felt a rush of lava course through my veins. My eyes shifted and conformed to the darkness. I could see him now. And I felt all the rage in me ignite with hostility.

It was that bloody bastard! Alexandre!

I felt my teeth slowly change into canines. "Alexandre," I whispered like a deranged killer. His reaction was priceless. His eyes filled with surprise as he looked at me.

"How can you see me?" He asked, almost in fear. I raised an eyebrow, an actual canine growl escaping my lips. My fingers burned at the tips.

"What time of day is it," I questioned him with a slight grin.

He gave me a troubled look. "The middle of the night." It was like he was oblivious to my condition. I smiled like a madwoman.

"Perfect." Another burst of strength hit me, and I tore the shackles off the wall, glancing down at my accomplishment. Then, I glared up at Alexandre. The pathetic man he was. "Where is my mother?" I snapped, my eyes piercing through the dark. He looked like he saw a ghost when my eyes changed.