Photo Credit: aussiegall via CompfightDeep Below an opera house
A cavern of rats, bats, and the occasional mouse
Psychotic laughter filled the lair
A Lair of death and despair
A noose on the ground stained with blood
The floor and walls all made of mud
One organ black as night
And a mask on top completely white
A lake ran by filthy and green
And a black musical throne worthy for a king or queen
The mob delved into the depths expecting a dark, vile place. However, as they approached the bottom, all they saw was a large house sitting alone in a dark field. “Bah,” they told themselves, “It must be evil.” They walked up to the door, keeping an eye out for the Phantom, and found the door was unlocked. Walking in, they immediately noticed how unimaginably cold it was. They could just barely make out a long corridor lit only by the lonely flickering of a dim candle, and the only thing they could hear was their footsteps and faint organ music coming from somewhere in the house.
Marching onwards, they walked past several doors they were either too scared or too determined to open, until the corridor opened up into a large room, furnished only with a small, wooden table and chair sitting in the middle of the room and a simple chandelier on the ceiling barely managing to light the room. As they looked around, they saw a door on the side of the room. Behind the door was a dark staircase, which they promptly marched up in hopes to find the Phantom.
As they marched up, the music got louder, and the mob could have sworn they could make out the voice of the Phantom. However, when they reached the top, they only found a small, unadorned room with an organ sitting against the back wall. On the organ, they saw a cape, a rose, and a mask.
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Down underneath the opera house.
Hallway after hallway turn after turn. Candles line both side of the hallways, shining bright but the heavy fog occupying the hallways make the candle light look dim. The concrete is gray and dry until you reach the underground lake where it begins to turn damp and dark. The boat used to get to the other side of the lake docked, moving slowly back and forth as the water creeps through the cave.
On the other side of the lake is land. With a old leather throne with gold embroidery with a white mask perched on top. There are also antique paintings on the walls, crooked and bent out of shape. On the cold concrete floor sits a dark red stained carpet with a mirror, smashed and stained with fingerprints. Around the mirror on the floor sits many glass chips soaked with fresh blood.
The air was cold and humid. It was also mostly quiet all you could hear was the water in the underground lake move and hear the boat rock back and forth, back and forth caused by the water underneath it. The lair felt lonely and abandoned. Just standing there in the middle of the lair watching it, taking in all it’s glory. You get drowned by the feeling of despair.
Why would my brother bring me down to this place he calls a home? He knows I hate it.
A broken chandelier that looks to have fallen before looms above the dungeon. The rats scamper beneath my feet and scratches at a wall of rock in hope to get out. The giant statue of my brother and his dream girl loom above everything in this wretched place.
All of a sudden, a deep, low voice starts calling my name from the corner of the room. My brother is here. He pulls me over to him with his magic ropes and begins to show me around his home. He beckons me over to his organ, and plays for me his new piece he will use to impress his dream girl. While he is playing, a black cat with a rat tail hanging from its mouth sits on him, and chews it’s dinner.
My brother stops playing, and continues to show me his “house”. We cross a river made red from blood and head toward his room. My heart skips a beat when my brother disappears. Suddenly I start falling! I realize that we had gone through a trap door and begin panicking. What could be deeper than the dungeon?
We get to his room. The grand finale of this place. People hang from ropes everywhere. The bed is made of bones. The sheets are made of skin. The floor is covered in blood. Even the ropes are made of cat tails.
My brother forces me deeper into his room, and suddenly pushes me! I can’t control myself! My legs won’t work and my arms can’t stop myself. My brother just laughs and flicks his hand. A rope falls from the ceiling right in the path of me.
Time slows. I can’t believe my own brother is going to kill me. No wonder they call him The Phantom. I am going to be a part of my brother’s dead people collection. My brother turns me around to see the last thing I will ever see again. My brothers face… The Phantoms face… A devil’s face.
The stairs continue farther and farther underground, deep down below the Opera House, stair after stair after stair of damp moldy rock and musty passageways that creak with each step. The dark dripping walls are filled with light from a quivering candle every few feet, and as I get pulled down farther, I smell something rotting. My legs start to stumble once I’ve been walking for too long, but finally…I reach the bottom.
I am pulled into a dark cavern, but The Phantom snaps his fingers and a row of candles on both sides of the cave light up, showing me a huge glittering lake right at my feet. The murky water is far too dark to see through, but when a candle shines on the lake, I see a skeleton below me. I cover my mouth before I let out a shriek, and back up to the wall.
At least I think its a wall.
I turn around and its the Phantom I have run into, not the skeleton I have been imagining. But the Phantoms face is just as scary as running into a skeleton would’ve been. He shoves me into a boat I didn’t see before, and we paddle across the haunted lake.
On the other side there is an organ with a plush chair behind it, and a huge candle, with the Opera House chandelier above it. Broken. Just like the Phantom. As I look up at the chandelier, The Phantom steps in front of me and sits down in the old, antique velvety chair. He lifts his hands and starts his luring mysterious lullaby…
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The cold blood drips from the ceiling to a rock next to me. “Don’t worry about the blood.” The Phantom says trying to make me feel comfortable. The cave is eerie from it’s air to even the little pebble at my feet. The cave is just lit from it’s couple of candles, only lighting a corner of it. With every step you can hear a. Crack Crack. From the bones of the people we once knew.
As I sit down on the rock, I could see the bodies of the Phantom’s victims, worrying I would be next. The rock is cold to it’s touch not having a feeling to it. Nothing has a feeling here. The only feeling is the dark despair. The smell fills my nose, not a pleasant smell though. As if rot and decay is sitting right next to me .You could see the rusty brown organ surrounded a shrewd of dust and stalagmites growing from the top of the pipes from the organ.
“If you feel something at your feet,hey are my minions, only a tarantula or scorpion, don’t be afraid.” He says approaching me scarily. Right now that’s the only thing I could feel.
Afraid. Have I felt beyond afraid?
CHRISTINE:
The chamber was like an icy cold shower of dread and sorrow over my fragile spine and into the deepest, darkest parts of my bones. Every footstep sent a shiver through my body. The darkness was truly a fearless beast. The dark was like a big bully with a magnifying glass over the sun and I was the puny and most definitely unlucky ant.
The place was so vast that the tiniest sound echoed very distinctly and made me cringe. At first I was in a melancholy trance, but now I am comprehending this like it was a horrible punch to the face. All of a sudden running seemed like a wonderful option. Did I really want to walk this lonely pit of darkness? No, but what choice did I have. It is where I am destined.
Not only does the Phantom seem cold and unfeeling, but so was this horrid place he called…home. Home…I never truly thought it was the Phantom that felt like he had to live here…like this was where he was destined…I can’t think about that after he killed so many and hurt so many including me… This dungeon was truly made for sadness yet it had an eerie beautifulness that really horrified me. My very life depended on this darkness. At that thought I saw my life flash before my eyes and as fast as it happened, it was over.
The rusted organ that was sitting in the corner started playing a scary tune with absolutely no warning. In my weak state that was the last thing I needed so terrified yelp jumped out of my mouth and I sank to my knees and let out a small sob. After wiping a few salty tears off I got up and hobbled weakly along. At that moment I realized a horrible thing, that there was no clear escape, which made me want to cry even harder than I did before. I knew then that I wasn’t going to get out of this one, no matter how lucky I was.
PHANTOM:
This is my home and I very well can’t do anything about it. Okay so maybe this place is a disaster and I never planned my sorry life to be like this… Although I really can’t help it. Darkness is not only my ally, but it is my life and light is the enemy that even if you face it for a second, you want to run away in terror.
The amount of screams of fright I’ve heard is unbearable. I have heard so many of those repulsive sound that my mind rings with the echo off them. My face is so different that I feel out of place or more plainly like freak. My best friend is a tiny, good-for-nothing rat for crying out loud!! I never asked for a life like this and I just want a friend…
I am influenced by this putrid and not to mention pitch-black chamber. People say that this is what my soul is made out of, but honestly I am NOT evil. I just lack something that I and only I lack: compassion. I want to be loved, I want to be cherished and mostly I want to be looked at nicely… In other words I want to be normal. After many minutes of thinking, I hear Christine’s little footsteps and… are those quiet weeps? Right before she is in earshot I mumble one powerful word “compassion”.
The Phantom’s lair… some sort of labyrinth. My dear please come, really please do. I’m surely not going to hurt you. Don’t mind those bones or the mice that sit upon my throne. It has been neglected for years along with the old, old organ that used to accompany me with me wondrous music of the night. I have rather forcefully brought you here and I ever so politely invite you to sit upon my throne… we have some things to discuss.
I, the phantom am asking you- forgive me- am demanding * getting louder * that you sing my harmonious music ’till our time together shall end, ever so terribly! I forbid you to see that “insolent boy” Raoul ever again till your time shall end. You must stay with me Christine and we shall share an everlasting passion for each other I demand it! I Promise to delicately take care of you and provide everlasting happiness.
I propose that you not try to escape, my darling, since OUR wondrous cave is riddled with traps to the dark corners who’ve never seen the light- oh- the awful light. It has haunted me for years and I can never seem to escape it. So Christine, what is your decision? stay with me forever or, Escape with only one price… Your life!
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Dark. Cold. Frightening.
The Phantom takes Christine down into his lair. He takes her down the haunted hallway. A few candles flicker out their last bit of light. Ancient paintings, unwanted masks and a giant organ filled the lair. The organ started playing and the horrid phantom with the mask starts to sing.
Christine was terrified. The room was painted black and crimson, making her think of blood. She realized she shouldn’t be here, and she was in danger. The Phantom was no longer her Angel of Music, just a man no one has ever cared for.
She realized she was in danger and searched for an escape route. The came across a replica dummy of herself, really giving her the chills. The Phantom mocked her with his wicked laugh. She felt her way through the darkness of the place, desperate to escape free. She ran out to the pond behind the lair, crying for help.
As Raoul came to her rescue, she would never forget the scary memory of being trapped in the Phantom’s lair.
The lights blurred into gray as Christine and the Phantom stepped thought the mirror. Streaks of black flew past them as they traveled at warp speed. Suddenly, an oval of swirling gray opened up in front them. The Phantom’s icy, cold hand grasped Christine and pulled her through. They were here, the Phantom’s lair.
“Welcome to my lair, ” the Phantom said, his voice ringing musically across the stone walls. Drip, drop, drip, drop. Fat drops of water dripped from the ceiling. A few lonely candles flickered, causing the the shadows in the lair to move about. A grand pipe organ, made of stone and painted black, stood in a corner of the lair. The candles’ fiery gaze swept over the organ and caused it to look dark orange. Toward the opposite side, a huge lake sat, disappearing into the darkness. A pile of bones was left in the shadows, almost completely hidden, but Christine’s keen eyesight caught it.
“Please make yourself at home,” the Phantom told Christine, as he strolled over to the pipe organ. The Phantom sat down on the stone bench and raised his hands to the keys. Slowly at first, one note after another, came from the pipe organ. But soon the notes speed up, accelerating away. A few second later and the notes were coming like a downpour, rushing down. It was beautiful and enchanting at the same time. The Phantom’s hands struck what seemed like every key on the organ. And the Phantom began to sing…
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