As we resurfaced I heard Melissa gasp for air. She coughed and gasped for air. Apparently being human for so long was finally truly taking effect on her. I still held her in my arms. She glanced up into my eyes. I didn’t pay much attention though. Did she see something in my eyes as she looked into them? She didn’t know where were though. We were shrouded in darkness. I placed her on her feet, and she didn’t move from her place. I walked forward a little and light a torch in my hand. The thunderous A-minor cord in the background was still playing, as I took one of her hands and started to lead her down the dreary wet hallway. She was unknowing of our wearabouts…I knew though. We were under the Opera House in the town of Gambino travling in the sweres to my home underground. She knew who I was deep down though she thought I was actually my ultimate forebere. She had heard my voice many times. Unknowing to her I was very gentle and had always been a part of her in some way. She didn’t pull away from me as I took her hand. Though she seemed a little frightened. When I turned to look at her the tourch blew out. She wasn’t scared of the dark, but that scared the ******** out of her. She let out a high piched scream. A faint red glimmer at a distant corner of the wall. She cried out again. Her voice the only sound. She thought I was gone where I no longer held her hand, and she probably thought I’d lead her into hell. The A-minor chord had stopped as well as that. I reached my hand out for her. But to her she said to me that it was rather a stone-cold, bony thing that seized her wrist and did not let go of her. She cried out again almost as loud. I took her around the waist, forgetting the torch, and supported her weight. I felt she wanted to cry out for that twit with blue hair. She made a struggle with me not knowing if it was me before giving up after a while in her attempt. I lead her toward the little red light and then she saw that she was in the hands of a man wrapped in a large cloak and wearing a white mask that hid the left half of my face. She made another effort; her limbs apparently stiffened, and her mouth opened to scream; but I closed it, my hand, which felt her lips, on her skin. She later told me it smelt of death. Then she fainted away into sleep.I carried her further into the darkness, carrying a lantern, and to a bubbling water fountain. My noble stead waiting when I got there. I sat down and layed her head on my knee and started bathing her temples as she lay in a somber sleep. When she finally opened her eyes, we were still mostly surrounded by darkness, but my lantern, still standing on the ground, showed the bubbling well clearly. The water splashing from the well disappeared, almost at once, under the floor which I had her laying, with her head on my knee. She looked at me as I bathed her temples taking not to my appearance and my hands that to her smelt of “death”. She tried to push them away and asked me “Who are you? Where is the voice?” My only answer was a deep sigh. Suddenly a hot breath passed over our faces, and she took note of my white horse beside me in the darkness. I lifted her fragile body onto the horse, and my stead neighed with delight, a greeting no drought. He quivered, as I lay her on the back of the saddle. I sensed she believed in me…and trusted me. She believed in the voice, but never believed in the “ghost” of the opera house to an extent. Now however she was beginning to wonder, with a slight shiver, whether she was this “ghost’s” prisoner. She called upon the voice to help her, for she probably never imagined for a second that the voice and the ghost were one in the same. She made no movement and let herself go with me. I held her up, as she made not effort to escape. She seemed at peace actually. She probably thought she was under the influence of some cordial…or some kind of dream. But she had full command of her senses; and her eyes became used to the dark by now no dought, which was lit, here and there, by fitful gleams.
We were in a narrow circular gallery now, something she seemed to have been calculated, running all around the opera hose, which was immense underground I admit. Well while my horse was quietly carrying her on his back, me still holding her up as the horse walked on, and sure-footed I might add. I very much am not sure how to tell you how, even approximately, how long this ride would last or did last; I can only tell you that we turned and often times went down a spiral stair into the very heart of the earth or depths of the darkness underground below the opera house…a strange new world for her. I think she was dizzy though. At last, my horse raised it’s nostrils, and sniffed the air and quickened his pace as little, like he was frightened. As we stopped the darkness lifted. And a sort of bluey light took it’s place and surrounded us. We had come to the edge of a lake, whose leaden waters stretched in the distance, far from praying eyes, into the darkness again; but the blue light lit up the bank and I saw what I was looking for, a little boat fastened to a iron ring on the wharf. I lifted her into the boat, but her terror seemed to begin all over again, I had noticed, for I sent the beautiful stead back and the hoofs sound trampling up a staircase while I jumped into the boat, untied the rope that held it and seized the oars. I rowed with a quick, powerful stroke. And under my mask my eyes never left hers. We slipped across the seemingly noiseless water in the blue-like light then we were in the darkness again and we touched shore. Then once more I took her into my arms. She cried out aloud, apparently she forgot who I was again. Then she fell silent; dazed by the light apparently. The light was in the midst of which she had been put down.
She sprang to her feet. She took notice to where she now was. We were in the middle of a drawing room that was decorated, adorned and furnished with nothing but flowers, flowers both magnificent and stupid in ways; because of the silk ribbons that tied them to baskets, like those they would sell in the shops on the boulevards. They were much civilized flowers, like those given to a beautiful women….like my angel. Though she didn’t feel beautiful. I also had a piano in the room. She looked over to me where I stood with my mask on. My arms crossed and then I spoke to her. “Don’t be afraid, Melissa; you are in no danger.” She realized it was the voice that had helped her realize her power. Who had sung to her back in the cave I took her from. Though she felt distrust of men, she trusted me….I knew. She seemed angry and at the same time a little amazed. Then, unexpectedly, she rushed at the mask and tried to snatch it away, so to see my face…the face of the voice. I gently took her wrists. “You are in no danger, so long as you do not touch the mask.” I forced her into a chair and then went down on my knees before her and said nothing more. My humility giving her some of her courage back; and the light restored her to the realities of life most likely. Though despite the extraordinary the adventure might have been, she was now surrounded by mortal, visible, and tangible things. The furniture, the hangings, the candles, the vases and the very flowers in their baskets, of which she or I could almost have told where they came and what they cost, were bound to confine her imagination to the limits of a drawing room quite as commonplace as that, at least, had the excuse of not being in the cellars of an opera house.
She seemed to have no doubt, to deal with a “terrible, eccentric person” who had managed to succeeded in taking up his abode here, under the opera house, five stories below the level of the ground. And the voice which she had recognized under the mask, was at his knees before his angel, was a mere man! She began to cry. I understood the cause of her tears. “It’s true, Melissa!…I am not an Angel, nor a genius, nor a ghost…I am Lelouch!” I cried. I felt her eyes lingering on me. She petted my head gently as I lay kneeling at her feet weeping. She said she never liked seeing these tears at all. She seemed to of dried her tears and petted my head some more. I told her later on that my birth name was Erik, like my ultimate forebear, but that was not what I went by. I did not really like being named after him for unknown reasons. So I took up the name Lelouch. A must more fitting name as she said to me. Then she sang to me about how in sleep I had sung to her, how in dreams I had come. The voice which had called to her and spoke her name. And even if she were to dream again she now knew that the Phantom of the Opera, me, was there, inside her mind.
I glanced up at her. I took her hand, and felt the warmth from it. Almost as if I didn’t know what warmth was or never felt it. I placed her hand on my cheek, my tears slowly stopping. I regained control of myself and a smile spread across my face, and I started to sing back to her. Asking her to sing once again with me our strange duet. How my power over you was growing stronger yet. And though she would turn from me to glance behind her I was there inside her mind. She seemed to be happy I was more cheerful now, as she smiled at me too. I took her into my arms and began dancing with her as a mysterious but slow tune playing in the background, and we sang to one another. She sang saying those who had seen my face would turn back in fear but she was the mask I wore, and I said it was me they heard. And our spirits in one combined (we sang together now) that I was there inside her mind. She started vocalizing the E6 note of the opera music. My voice gained volume as I spoke to her in a musical tone. “Sing my Angel of Music!” I told her. She continued to vocalize her note. For a mermaid it was not surprise that she could go so long and not need to take a breath for holding the note she sang without turning purple in the face needing air. “Sing my Angel….SING FOR ME!” I cried. She wasn’t willing to stop yet. “Sing….Sing my angel! SING FOR ME!” She let out one more pitch higher and then stopped and let her ecoing voice got through out the room.
A smile spread across my face. I was pleased with her singing talents. She looked into my eyes….and my face. My sparkling white teeth, my violet eyes, and straight black hair. She found there were no flaws to me…though she had never seen my face…not yet…but I didn’t plan to let her see it. I wanted her to continue to look past my face, and look inside my heart. Despite her fears of me she smiled back. Her beautiful and breath taking smile I cheered every day of my life. I wanted her to stay here forever…for eternity. She didn’t feel like she belonged in this world of dark. She was never sure how to explain it. She felt she was meant to be in the world of light. Though the world of dark was always more welcoming. The world of light had damaged us and beyond repair. Darkness was defiantly more welcoming. In darkness you couldn’t get hurt. In the dark your thoughts, feelings, fears and all that were safe. With darkness all that was safe, and you couldn’t’ be judged, criticized, laughed at….rejected. Me her both loathed the word rejection. Because of all the rejection we got from the world of light, we sometimes felt like just dying…or committing suicide. Wanted to crawl, literally, into a dark corner, away from the light, and stay there away from all the hurting and pain. We wanted to stay there and be held by each other forever to protect each other.
She always did feel so unworthy of me. She often felt like she was a nuisance of my “greatness” and my voice. Everything about me she had felt unworthy of. That I was a saint, and she was nobody. She felt way in over her head if she though she had a chance with me. But it was not so. She was worthy of me. She was worthy of me, yes. I was not worthy of HER! She was the saint….not me. I was the nuisance yet I yearned for her so bad I dragged her off into darkness. A strange new world so I could have her. I sat down in a chair, and she stared into my violet eyes. I stroked her cheek, and ran my figure’s through her hair. My hands gentle, though they smelt of “death”. I may of killed people in the past, but it was because they were people that hurt me. But it didn’t matter to us though. We were still each others angel….saint…in each others eyes. We had taken each other under our wing. I stood and swung my cape over my chair and spoke once again to her. “I have brought you. To the seat of sweet music’s throne. To this kingdom where all must pay homage to music.” I said turning to look at her in the chair. “Must, you have come her for one purpose, and one alone. Since the moment I first heard you sing, I have needed you with me. To serve me, to sing for my music. My…music.” I was mesmerizing her. She wanted to sing for me if in no doubt. I cared for her, and she knew it. She knew she wanted me, and I wanted her. I broke into song and she loved hearing my voice.
Nighttime sharpens
Heightens each sensation
Darkness stirs and
Wakes imagination
Silently the senses
Abandon their defenses
Peace swept over us. And it seemed to grow stronger as I reached out to her, and she took my hand, and I helped her out of her seat. I spoke again. She stayed…and she listened.
Slowly
Gently
Night unfurls
It's splendor
Grasp it
Sense it
tremolos and
Tender
Turn your face away-
She turned her face away from me as if she though I were ordering her not to look at me; though I was and she felt unworthy of looking at my face; I took hold of her face, and slowly turned her head back towards me and our eyes meet slowly. I smiled softly and continued my song.
From the garish light of day
Turn your thoughts away
From cold
Unfeeling light
And listen to
The Music of the Night
Close your eyes
And surrender
To your darkest dream's
Purge your thought's
Of the life you knew before
Close your eyes
Let your spirit
Start to soar
She closed her eyes, and looked at me, opening her eyes again a minute later. She smiled softly. She was starting a life as she had never had before as she was in my arms. Under my wing. She could soar with me.
And you'll live
As you've never
Lived before
Softly
Deftly
Music shall
Caress you
Hear it
Feel it
Secretly posses you
Open up your mind
Let your fantasies unwind
In this darkness that you know
You can not fight
The darkness of
The Music of the night
And I was right she couldn’t fight the darkness….she had no need to fight it. It was to powerful to fight. Darkness was our friend. Our only real, and true friend besides ourselves. In the real world you couldn’t depend on anyone, but yourself. I taught her that. I was right too. And even if she could fight against this darkness…she knew she would still lose. She knew she couldn’t count on anyone but herself, me and darkness. Darkness was not able to be defeated. The only choice you would have is to give into it, and embrace it. Friendship was a lie. And love…love was giving someone the power to break your heard and trusting them not to. All of it was a lie! Lies! And more lies! Nothing but lies! It did exist…but it was so rare it was as if it didn’t. Like it was an illusion of the heart! A fantasy of your mind! Melissa trusting me and darkness was her only hope of getting through life. I was her angel, and her last chance for true happiness. For what she yearned for the most. That which did not exist…but did as a rare thing…love.
Let your mind start a journey
Through a strange new world!
Leave all thoughts of the life
You knew before!
Let your soul take you
Where you long to BE!
Only then can you
Belong to me
I put my hands on her cheeks. She looked up at me. I spun her around to where I had her back to me but with her head leaning against my chest. I ran my hands across her chest, and slowly down her hips to her legs. Usually I wouldn’t be a pervert like this, and she wouldn’t let a boy or anyone to touch her like this, because of a bad experience with touching before…that she never explained in full depth to me. We were unsure of why we were doing this. Maybe it was, in her case, that she could trust me. She smiled at my touch, and as she heard my voice again.
Floating
Falling
Sweet intoxication
Touch me
Trust me
I placed her hand on my cheek. She turned her head enough to see me face. I lead her to some red curtains at our left.
Savor each sensation
Let the dream begin
Let your darker side give in
To the power of the music
That I write
The power of
The Music of the Night
I pulled the red curtains back to reveal a life size manequin of her in a wedding gown, that I had made myself. The sight for her, of seeing herself in that dress, surprised her. So much that she passed out. Even though her mind was still aware of everything around her. I caught her as she fell, and I carried her to my…now ours…room with a bed shaped like a swan, with red velvet sheets and black lace curtains. I lied her in the bed. I undressed until I was in nothing but my boxers! I then climbed into the bed with her, and she lied her head against my bear chest. She blushed a deep scarlet color. Darker then the darkest rose of the darkest shade. “Jareth, stay out of this!” I practically growled. “Who?” She asked, half unconscious. I think she knew the name because Ana mentioned someone named Jareth more then often to her. I lied my head on her cheek triggering a vision in her mind. I showed her a study. And that blue haired moron babysitting Anastasia’s adopted daughter (he’s better suited for sword fighting then babysitting…though he never beat me) Anastasia walking in the study and someone else. A man she had never seen before…but I had.
He had gold and silver hair, strong looking arms, and from what it always looked, washboard abs. Almost in an instant she understood everything. The man she was looking at in the vision was Jareth. I showed her them looking in a mirror that showed us dancing (I would slaughter the later for spying). Then Anastasia getting jealous (so like a girl who was not meant for love) crying and then Jareth kissing her just to shut her annoying a** up. Mat turning into a wolf from anger at me. HA! Be mad loser! I had her now! She was MINE! Then the vision was gone. She turned over on her left side to look at me, more awake now. “Just think” I told her. “Jareth will never dare to intrude on us again. He’s much to busy with that little sea-witch to even think about you.” “Oh, Lelouch!” she said. “I’m glad you took me away from her. She just doesn’t understand the meaning of being true in love.” “Oh but I do, my darling. I do my most beloved, Melissa.” Lelouch said. I stroked her cheek, and then ran my fingers through her hair. Then I finished my song whispering the last of the song in her ears….You alone can
Make my song
Take flight
Help me make
The Music of the Night
She fell asleep then with me at her side, running my hand down her side as I sang....and her journey through a strange new world had truly...began.
To be continued in chapter 40...
