The Fifth Cellar (Phantom of the Opera)

Chapter 39 - Rescuing a Friend

Evangeline's POV:
I leaned back against the pillows and opened the newspapers. It was the only contact I got with the outside world. I didn't leave the mansion except to go into the gardens and the doctor's appointment I had had. The doctor said that my pregnancy was going along marvelously and he foresaw no problems. He hadn't asked about Erik and I was a grateful. He didn't need to know that the father was the Phantom of the Opera.

I flipped through the paper and my eyes landed on a headline:

FIRE BURNS THROUGH SECTION OF PARIS

A fire began in an abandoned building and quickly spread. One of the people who has lost everything is the famous Daroga Nadir Kahn...

It went on to talk about the rest but that name stuck in my head. It sounded so familiar. Than I remembered that Erik had mentioned a man called “Daroga.” I jumped from the bed and hurried to the music room. I held the paper in my hand as I called Erik's name. He appeared in the doorway with the look of completely worry on his unmasked face. I smiled at him and said,

“Once you mentioned a man called Daroga. Is his real name Nadir Kahn?” Erik nodded.

“I don't know why you would want to bring that up. I personally dislike the man. He helped Raoul. Though good came of it, I still don't like his turncoat ways.” I frowned.

“Well, then you may not like my idea. Read this.” I handed him the paper. He looked it over and then back at me. He raised his eyebrows.

“You are wanting me to take him in?” I nodded. He growled.

“I don't like the idea.” I walked over and wrapped my arms around him. I gave him the best puppy face I could and then said,

“Please, he has no where to go.” I leaned forward and kissed his lips gently. He pulled me close but I backed away. He scowled and said,

“You aren't going to let up are you. Alright! He is welcome.” I smiled and kissed him. I would finally get to see someone other than Erik. Not that I didn't like to see him but I wanted someone else.

The Next Day:

Daroga's POV:

I sat down on a the rickety cot in the make-shift hotel they had put for those who had been affected by the fire. I had barely got out with my skin. I sighed and wished for a moment that Erik had lived. I had read the paper a year ago and saw that he was dead. As much as we argued I missed him, a lot. He was my friend and we had gone through the hard times at each other's sides. But that girl had killed him. She had destroyed him. I ran my hand through the little hair I had left. Erik might not have taken me in but he might have helped. I could to the Opera House and try to find a way into the lair but the likely hood of being able to do that and get out wasn't likely. Erik was a mastermind and only a mastermind could find a way down there. I laid back against the thin pillow and looked at the one thing I had left of Erik. A few letters. His handwriting was horrible. He hadn't ever been truly educated so his handwriting was pitiful. I opened them and read them. I wondered where he was buried. Under the Opera House no doubt. He had built it. It was fitting that his remains should be put there. I wished Christine had never been born. He loved her. That I knew. I could see it in his eyes when he spoke of her. I heard it in his broken voice when he had come to tell me he was dieing.

I suddenly heard a knocking on the door. I called,

“Who is there?” A sweet voice said,

“My name is Evangeline Destler and I want to talk to you if you are Nadir Kahn also know as Daroga.” It was a woman and she sounded so confident. There was only one who called me “Daroga.” That one was Erik. How she knew about it confused me. I stood up and said,

“Come in.” A red haired woman walked in. She was pretty and her ice blue eyes flashed. I took note that her belly was slightly swollen and a wedding ring was on her finger. She smiled at me and I thought I recognized her. Her eyes lit up as she looked at me.

“You are the Persian who used to come to the Opera House?” I nodded. That is where I recognized the girl from. She was one of the ballerinas. I smiled at her.

“Yes, I am. You were one of the ballerinas, weren't you?” She nodded.

“Erik never told me that you were the Persian! I wish he had. Do you have a place to stay because I convinced Erik to let you stay with us if you need a place?” I was confused. What Erik? The only Erik I knew was dead. But I didn't have a place to stay and I would gladly do anything. I grabbed what little I had and said,

“Thank you, Madam. I do need a place. But who is this Erik?” She smiled and led me to the a black carriage pulled by a white stallion and driven by a small boy. The horse looked familiar. I placed my bag on the top and stepped into the carriage. Evangeline sat next to a black shadow and as I sat down I looked at the shadow. It looked at me and I saw two glowing yellow eyes. I knew who she had been talking about.

Erik was alive.