Irk’s famous Lythikos Mausoleum is known for granting entertainment and keeping our mighty Empire’s culture alight. Today wouldn’t have been different, but the gala’s star, Tenn Sakhak, has mysteriously vanished from her dressing room. Security has searched under every crack and crevice in the mausoleum, but she is nowhere to be found.
Rumors say that she’s been spirited away by the infamous ‘Phantom of the Mausoleum’. This mysterious character has already generated quite the controversy throughout the Mausoleum. Though nobody’s ever seen him in person, some dancers or staff claim to have glimpsed him in Box Five or moving through the rafts in a black cloak.
Real or myth, there’s really no proof that miss Sakhak was kidnapped. After a thorough check up in her dressing room, the authorities didn’t find any signs of struggle or fight. In fact, witnesses have stated that she never even left her dressing room and no one went in, bringing more questions.
Where has miss Sakhak gone?
X-X
Tenn awoke groggily, rubbing her forehead as her vision adjusted to the lack of light. Her head was throbbing. Owowow. What happened? All she remembered was getting herself ready for the performance in her dressing room, then someone coming from behind and putting a cloth over her mouth. She tried to fight, but…
As her vision adapted, Tenn examined her surroundings. She was in a nicely decorated room. Violet and purple carpets hung from the walls, and there were lots of cushions with matching colors. Her own bed was a wide with a mauve duvet and nice, comfortable pillows. In fact, There were lots of candles spread around the cave.
She had no idea of how she got there, but she did know she had to return to her dressing room and get ready. Damn it, Red was going to have a heart attack if she didn’t show up!
As she got off the bed, Tenn heard the unmistakable sound of an organ being played. So someone did live here. Perhaps they could tell her what’s going on and how she got to this place.
The entrance of the ‘room’ led to an even bigger room also illuminated with candles, a few lamps and decorated in shades of purple. Whoever lived there must really love that color. A magnificent chandelier hung from the ceiling, bathing the place in colorful lights. The music was coming from an large ivory organ in one side of the room; its pipes glistened with pink and gold light from the chandelier.
A tall Irken dressed in a white long-sleeved shirt under a black vest and jacket with matching black pants sat in front of the organ; his fingers gracefully flew over the keys and pressed them rhythmically. Tenn had heard people playing the piano or the organ at the elitist events she often attended, but this man made them all look like amateurs.
“Excuse me?”
His reaction was almost comical: slamming his hands on the organ’s keys, thus bringing his music to an abrupt halt, the Irken jumped off his seat and turned around abruptly, his lekku straight. His wide purple eyes were fixed on her. Now that she saw his face, Tenn noticed the right half was concealed under a white half-mask.
Wait a minute. Purple eyes, white half-mask… She had heard the gossips and rumors about him, but she’s never really paid any attention to them.
“You are the Phantom.” Tenn deduced.
“T-Tenn! You’re awake!” What the-?! She wasn’t supposed to wake up until much later! Didn’t he use enough chloroform? damn it, he wasn’t ready! sweet Irk, what to do now? “I…” Purple chuckled nervously as he pulled on the collar of his shirt.
Okay, he could do this. He’s been talking to her all this years. The only difference was that there wasn’t a mirror between them anymore. Purple took a deep breath.
“I’m glad you’re finally awake, my dear.” He said, calmly this time, offering Tenn a smile.
“You didn’t answer my question.” Tenn insisted. “You’re the Phantom of the Opera, aren’t you?”
“That is one of the names I’m called, yes, but you know me better as your Angel of Music.”
Angel of Music? That couldn’t be, he wasn’t real. He was just a figment of her imagination that she made up as a smeet to have someone to talk with in her loneliness… At least, that’s what she told herself all these years. But his voice was so familiar, and all those singing lessons… they couldn’t be a figment of her imagination. could they?
“Would you like to take a seat, my dear? You look a bit pale.” Tenn stepped back when he took a few steps forward.
“I’m f-fine, I’m just… processing it.” Tenn said quickly. “But you’re the infamous Phantom too. The one who hung the stagehand backstage!”
It took Purple every ounce of self-control not to panic again. He had been hoping she wouldn’t bring that particular topic up. “Just for the record, it was an accident.” He clarified. “A rather tragic accident. He drowned in the lake and I just put him there.”
“Lake? What lake?” Tenn blinked as she recalled what she wanted to ask in the first place. “Where are we?”
“Oh, right!” Purple spread out his arms, gesturing to his surroundings. “Welcome to my humble abode and your new home, my dear!”
Tenn glanced at the chandelier. I wouldn’t call it humble, she thought. “Right. And where are we, exactly?”
“Under the Opera house, of course!”
Tenn stumbled back a bit, blinking. “Under the opera house? Are you kidding me?”
Purple’s smile faltered a bit. “Well, it’s not like someone like me can just rent an apartment in the neighborhood, right? It’d attract…” he turned away, hiding the masked half of his face from view. “…Unwanted attention.”
Tenn did sit down in the nearest chair this time. Resuming: she’s with the fucking Phantom of the Opera, who turned out to be her ‘imaginary’ friend and mentor, in a big house underneath the Opera House. It almost felt like she was having a very weird dream.
“Okay… So why did you bring me here?”
“I…” this is it, what he had been waiting for for years. He took a deep breath. “I love you,” Purple finally confessed, kneeling before his beloved. “I brought you here out of love, my dear Tenn! Ever since I first heard you sing, I wanted you, needed you here with me to compliment my music.”
Tenn stepped back warily. “Love?” She frowned. “You have quite an odd way of showing it, considering you kidnapped me.”
“I had no choice. You wouldn’t have come willingly.” Admittedly, he was right. She wouldn’t have. “I apologize for deceiving you, forgive me!”
“How can I when I barely even know what kind of man you are?” Tenn retorted, frowning. “Have you heard the saying ‘never trust someone who hides his face? Let me see you.”
As she reached out for his mask, however, his hand grasped her wrist with a tight grip, his expression darkening.
“Don’t touch the mask. Ever.” The tone in which he spoke sent shivers down her spine. “As long as you don’t touch it, you’ll have nothing to fear from me.” He stepped back from her, his mood lightening again. “Besides, what matters isn’t the face, but the heart,” he placed a hand over his chest. “And mine is filled with love for you.”
Tenn wasn’t satisfied with that. What’s the big deal? It couldn’t be that bad, could it? Besides, if he actually wanted something serious with her, he’d eventually have to show her his face, anyway. Was it such a sensitive topic for him? Then again, she had heard rumors that the Phantom’s face was so horrible that it haunted one’s nightmares for a long time.
“What are you afraid of? I’m your prisoner, remember?” Tenn pointed out matter-of-factly.
“You’re a prisoner of love, my dear. I’m not that bad once you get to know me!” Purple insisted. She didn’t look convinced, though. What to do now to break the ice…? “You must be hungry. Follow me, I’ve prepared something tasty for you!”
Tenn wasn’t sure she wanted to eat anything made by him (part of her considered he might poison it or something). Following him into a small dining hall, the Phantom pulled out the chair for her to sit. Well, at least he was a gentleman.
Admittedly, the soup he made was tasty. He hadn’t even gone out of the room when she practically devoured it along the bread, cheese and fruit in the table. If anything, Purple was a good cook.
X-X
The following days, things started a bit… rocky, to say the least.
Tenn tried to escape a few times, but Purple’s home was like a labyrinth and she always ended up returning back to the main room, much to her chagrin. And no matter how many times she demanded or even asked nicely that he take her back to the surface, he always refused. She tried following Purple when he left to run his opera house, but always ended up getting lost and returning to where she started. Then she’d vent off in the cushions imagining they were Purple’s head.
Despite this, Purple was nice. He acted gentle and kind, never raising his hand against her not doing anything to hurt her. He spoke sweetly and left her a rose every day as she slept. Other times, he entertained her with some of his magician skills, or played the organ for her.
He hoped that, in time, she’d grow to love him through these small details.
After a while, Tenn grew somewhat comfortable with her captor. She was mostly impressed by his refinement, culture, and gentlemanly manners for someone who’d lived underground most of his life. Purple demonstrated to be a talented architect, magician, technician, illusionist (this part wasn’t so surprising), and, surprisingly, painter.
But his greatest passion was his music. Purple was a gifted composer and he’d play anything she asked; the way he performed the Requiem for Cyanin, The Conquest of Vort and even the Fall of the Springgas had no comparison.
One morning, though, she casually saw him working on blank music sheets. Every now and then he’d write on them, only to cross them out seconds later and write something else.
Tenn tip-toed from behind to take a look at it. She managed to read the words Soliloquy before Purple suddenly put the sheets into the desk’s drawer.
Damn it, when did she get behind him?! He quickly hid his work before she could see it completely.
“Don’t.” Purple warned her sternly.
“What was that? Is it another opera?”
“It’s… something I’ve been working on, but it's not ready. It’s still not finished. Besides,” Purple’s expression became pained. “It’s not something I want you to hear.”
“Why not?” Tenn inquired.
“Because it burns.” Purple said darkly. “It burns with a fire not from heaven. You’re lucky not to come to that kind of music yet.”
Tenn felt a shiver down her spine. “If you say so…” her lekku straightened up as she saw something in the corner of her eye. A tiny, hairy, six-legged-!
Purple swore his heart almost went up to his throat when Tenn shrieked and he felt a new weight in his arms. It took him a few seconds to realize she had jumped into his lap and was now clinging to his neck. His cheeks felt hot.
“What the-? What’s wrong?!”
“There’s an antula over there!” Tenn pointed at said spider-like bug walking calmly on top of the table. “Kill it!”
“But it’s harmless.”
“I don’t care, it’s nasty!”
Sighing, Purple placed Tenn on his seat and went to deal with the problem. He took a blank paper sheet, but instead of rolling it up to squash the antula, he gently led it to walk on it and then placed the critter on the wall so it could go back to its cobweb.
Tenn just couldn’t believe it. “What are you doing?! I told you to kill it, not let it go!”
“For your information, those critters are the closest things I’ve had to companions over the years.” Purple said simply. “Besides, it did nothing to you.”
“I swear, Purple, if that thing crawls on top of me at night, I’ll kill you!” Purple shivered in delight at the show of temper.
Unromantic, Starving hands seek out your silken vulnerabilities. The pale swell of your belly beckons, pressing sweetly against the cotton of your shirt as if begging for softness, tenderness.
With devil-dark eyes, I imagine.
My frozen fingers enveloped in your marshmallow belly-button, wicked tongue melting you like a taffy-pull.
Pink-sucked flesh and porcelain hip-bones fitted neatly in my teeth. Love bitten so inelegantly and possessively into the peach-cream of your thighs.
Your lips quiver delicately, angel-wisps and sighs. You cannot even fathom the Hell that craves a home in your Heart. You daydream that I am Love; you mistake me for goodness.
And Sweetness honey-drips from between my fingers as I reach inside to your kaleidoscopic soul.
