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Down we go again to the lair of darkness and despair, where this horrible phantom has lived for ages. Its cold and creepy and is the home of a killer. There is blood dripping from the walls and spiders up above, and he expects me to stay here with him. Why did this happen to me of all of the other people it could be.

He just keeps telling me that there is nothing to worry about, but I know this can’t be true, because there is always something wrong when all you see is darkness, darkness and more darkness. the only light comes from the candles that line the walls of the corridor, and the only part of the phantom that I see is his mask.

Where is this place anyways, all I remember is walking into my mirror and being here. then I realized where I was, I must be under the opera house.

It was turn after turn and we had been walking for a while now, where were we going. Then I saw it… It looked like a throne, and behind it was a lake of black. We finally came to a stop. This must be it, the end of the dreaded Phantoms Lair.

The darkness was dimly lit by candles floating in the mysterious murky water.
I found myself in a cramped and cold little boat that glided upon the mirror like water, occasionally bumping into a candle. My hands ran along the splintery wood, finding little grooves that must have held a screw. Abstract brass and gold metal curves around the sides of the boat, creating swirls and jagged lines.

Scarlet, cerise, fuchsia and alabaster rose petals hovered among the ominous lake.

The sense of abhorrence and tenebrosity welled inside of me… but there was curiosity, imagination and freedom dying to get out.
“Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams!” boomed a familiar, tremendous voice. I gasped and looked around anxiously, cautiously… desperately searching to find another human. But silence followed, with the occasionally tickle of water from up above.

All of a sudden a gust of wind blows each and every golden flame out. “Surly this is a bad dream… no a nightmare” I thought. I pinched myself to wake up.

It didn’t work!

” Softly, deftly, music shall surround you… Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind.” quietly sang a voice, as if it was trying to lull me to sleep. Why would this voice want me to fall into state of … One by one, each little life like flame arose from the dead. I gasped in amazement as millions of crystal like lights beamed above in the cavern. They seemed to be getting bigger… No they were coming closer, until it was a blinding my eyes.

I awoke in a startle, while trying to catch my breath I hear an organ being banged to death. The sound seemed to be right behind me. A chill ran up and down my spine. Sweat beads trickled down my neck and face. The palm of my hands that were once as dry as the Sahara desert became as moist like the Pacific Ocean. I tried to move my legs and run, but they apparently grew roots into the ground.

Maniacal laughter filled the air. ” Help! Help me..” a crying voice chocked. I turned in every direction until I saw a girl. The girl’s face was completely drained, but completely filled with fear. Her knees were scraped up, as if she fell. I recieved enough adrenaline to run over to her. She ran towards me. “What are you doing here?! What happened?!?” I questioned. As my mouth raced with many questions her lips were moving too… But no sound was coming out. I cocked my head side ways in confusion, the girls head cocked sideways too. I slowly I lifted my hand towards her, and she did the same. The maniacal laughter returned.

Right behind the girl was a tall figure wearing a white mask stained with blood. A glass shattering scream pierced through the air. The girl who was once in front of me shattered into a thousands of glass shards. My heart beat stop, and I realized the girl who I saw… was me.

 

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I walk into the chamber so very far below the warmth and light of the upper realm. No light is touching the menacing, obsidian walls except for the feeble light of the candle I so carefully shield from the whispers of lost souls oozing out of the shattered cobblestone floor.

A chill creeps slowly down my spine, as if a cold, dark, not quite physical hand was creepily caressing the back of my neck. I slowly turned around as the pure fear coursed through my veins.

No one was there.

How did I find myself in this dungeon of despair, this monstrosity of a manor in the first place? I had tried to control my curiosity of the legends. The legends of the Mask, The Woman, and the Night. But I could not. As this thought got itself entangled with the rest of my timidly fearful thoughts, I crept further and further into the bowels of what I could only assume was the hell in which all  “monsters under the bed” resided.

I found myself in a corner where the air seemed to be as thin as paper, cold, dry paper. I looked wearily to my feet where a mask was lying in a twisted bed of cobweb. The mask…oh the mask, horrifying to even describe. It was a mask that could only have been worn by a beast, a beast without compassion or light anywhere inside his murderous body. Yes, this was a mask left behind by what could only have been the ruler of this hell. No, it was worse…it was fear, it was darkness.

I have to get out of here. But it’s too late, for I can already feel Fear grabbing my ankle, pulling me down into the Underworld, where I shall never see the light of day, or the warmth of sunshine again.

There will only be…It.

Dark, damp, cold.

This, this wretched place; is where I live. It reflects me in more ways than one. This dark, empty place. Like my heart, I need someone to share this loneliness and darkness with. If only Christine was here with me, to cast the shadows away. If only…

My lair, with its lonely organ and deep, mirror-like lake, is far from welcoming. The labyrinth under the opera house holds no surprises around its many corners for me. The nooses hanging from the ceiling, as ominous as they would seem, haven’t caught anyone, as nobody ever comes for a “friendly visit”.

My lair is a lonely, terrible wreck. I’ve tried to leave, but everywhere I go, I’m turned down. Here, in a cruel, unfeeling way, is where I belong.

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Photo Credit: Evan Leeson via Compfight

The Phantom’s Lair, an abyss of a home. Like being hit with the darkness of a black hammer.The lair is lined with darkness in every crack and cranny. This is not a place you would want to be in, or even know about in the first place.

Christine, Christine, come with me, you have nothing to be scared of. I will protect you from any fears you may have. You don’t think I’m gonna hurt you, do you? Why would I hurt you? You don’t have to be scared of the dark walls and the demented things I have of you. For it is only out of love that I have these retched things.  Stay with me and I will love you for an eternity.

Don’t mind the fact that I brought you down here against your will. Only think of us together, me happy and you dealing with the knowledge that you will never live for real ever again.

Down, Down, Down we go.

Down we go to the prison of his mind, Deep down to the dungeon of his dark despair. I know the way by heart, so follow me.

I’ve only been once before, but something eerie in my mind lured me back. So here I am.

He leads me to a boat, says, “Run! Quick”, and down the path he flees. Behind me I hear a mob of angry men. Carefully stepping into the boat, I muster up my strength and paddle away. My strength was hard to find, down in the back of my mind, next to all of the vulnerability and fear. There’s so little of it now, ever since I met him.

I feel trapped, taken, abducted. Something’s controlling my mind. He’s in my head.  It wasn’t my choice to come here, but I did anyways. He told me he loved me, and I couldn’t stay away.Where did he go…ahh!

Rats? How could a human live here? Ohh…but he’s not. I’ve never been this far in before. Scary…. “Oh sweet Angel of music! Where are you? Hands at the level of your eyes, hands at the level of your eyes.” I whisper back and forth to myself I thousand times. I can never forget it. He never truly trust anyone. Not even me.

I hear sounds. What is it? Could it be-

Music?

The bittersweet violin leads me to a room of mirrors. I think I’ll sing along! Dancing, humming, singing, I think to myself, this might be the most fun I’ve had in this godforsaken cave-

A mirror broke. I turn around quickly. He’s here.

The Phantom of the Opera.

Photo Credit: Joshua Hoffman via Compfight

Photo Credit: Neal Fowler via Compfight

My eyes flew open in a dark place. There was nothing I could see. All my senses were oblivious except the faint squeak of the rats. I got up and wandered around searching for a source of light when suddenly a light flickered before my eyes and nearly knocked me off my feet. But I picked it up and began to wondering around looking for a way to get out of here, anything to get me out of here… All I wanted to get out of this grimy prison.

As my feet trudged across the floor my eyes caught sight of a narrow passage way that I began to squeeze through. As I reached the end of this ancient hallway the air began to reek of rotten flesh. The smell grew stronger and stronger until I found the horrifying source of this stench. It was a chamber filled with men and women hanging from nooses surrounding them there was a ring of broken mirrors. Covering my nose I advanced through the chamber that must have belonged some kind of crazy man… or creature.

In the middle of the room there was a thrown that looked lonely. As I approached it the flame of this magical candle the flame flickered like a mad man. It seemed like this dungeon had no end. But my will to survive was too great so I walked up to the one of the mirrors and picked up a shard and as I looked into it there was a white mask behind me and I felt a shove and I fell. The last thing I felt was the rats crawling over my body.

The phantoms lair is a place that nobody dare go. It is a dark and dreary place of sadness and depression. There is no light that would dare shine upon  the phantoms face.

He has candle obera  set all around, the flames flickering beneath the opera house.

A filthy spooky place that no human could ever bare to live, but the phantom lives there, dispute the gruesomeness and piles of bones, away from the worlds criticism.

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“Watch your step while we’re down here.  Now everyone, this is the last known place of the Phantom of the Opera. It was the opening night of ‘Don Juan Triumphant’ every thing was going smooth until… the man playing the lead guy was put to death… Christine was taken under the opera house and people followed.”

I start to scan the room just to figure out what this place really was.  Also I want to know what we will encounter on this tour. However all I see is black, black, and more black.  No sight of light any where except the ones put in just for the tour.  Directly in front of me I see a cloak thrown over a chair.  A chair: covered with black and the deepest of the deep purple.  What really caught me off guard was the scarlet red cloak thrown over the chair.  

“What is that on the chair?” I asked I must of looked pretty stupid with puzzled look I had on my face.  “That my dear is the throne of the phantom. That is the last known of place the phantom.  Most people say he just disappeared.  Come along everyone nothing to be afraid of.”

As we get closer and closer I start to see that the cloak was not meant to be red it was just . . . blood!  Knowing the history of the phantom of the opera it was easy to tell exactly where the bold came from.

We enter a cavern to find . . . stacks of rope, rope, and even more rope.  You would need ten times the size of our tour group to even get near the amount of rope.  All of a sudden chills run down my back.

As we are leaving out of the corner of my eye I notice an organ.  The organ was blacker than black not even sure what color to call it.  As I get closer I notice there is still music on it. Barely even able to make out the words: The Music of the Night.

“Come on its time to go Mark.”: Raoul’s nephew.

 

 

Photo Credit: Lali Masriera via Compfight

 

Okay, so there’s this thing called the Phantom’s lair, and its supposed to be really scary and stuff. I think these ideas are a bunch of baloney. In Christine’s room- rumor has it that behind the mirror is this trapdoor thing-a-ma-jiggy, and it leads down down down down down down down down down down down down down down into the Phantom’s lair. Sooooo… behind the mirror is this (obviously) painting of a fake tunnel that leads downwards. Well, it is amazing artwork, so I’ll take a photo of me leaning against it to make it look like I’m falling. Here we go, and– AHHHHHHHHHHHH. Okay, there’s my picture, now for a more realistic pose… AHHHHHHHHHHH (I’m actually falling this time.)

Deep deep down below the opera house I have stumbled upon the lair of the Phantom. Only being able to see 2 feet in front myself through the thick veil of fog, I attempted to find a clearing. As the mist begins to fade I jump at the sound of a single drop of water that had managed to escape the grasp of the ceiling to reach the lake below. My feet make a clamping noise from colliding with the ground after the jump… the sound seeming to echo on forever of the vast walls of emptiness.

Through a door I find a small chamber. In it is an organ–rotting away as if nobody had ever given it any care. In the opposite corner stands a frame. Below it– lay fragments of a shattered mirror. Looking closer, in the place of where the mirror should have been, is a skull– drawn out of ashes.

About ready to leave, I make my way back to the underground lake. The murky water makes the lake appear to have no bottom. In the reflection of the water is a torch, the only object providing light to this lair of eternal darkness. The torch is flickering about– a bit like a tongue– in the darkness surrounding. It’s the only torch there, the only one…and its flame goes out…

My first thought– oh-no-bro, this isn’t good. Unable to see, I’m about to panic when this music starts playing. Although its a bit creepy, and it’s not a song, just the sound of an organ as if someone was slamming his hand up and down the keys of the piano. I’m a bit calmer after the music ends, but I’m still trying to find my way out. Then I feel something slip around my neck. I can’t see anything, is it… a necklace maybe? You know what, this place might not be so bad after all. I mean, the music was a little creepy, and the necklace may be a bit too tight, but– okay, maybe the necklace is way too tight. Anyways, as I’m gasping for air because of the constricting force of this tight necklace, but maybe the Phantom isn’t so bad after all…

End of Act III

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Photo Credit: Evan Leeson via Compfight