Death Awakens

Disclaimer: I don't own PotO and am making no money.

Chapter 8:
Confused with his thoughts, Erik swiftly left the girl in his home. He made his way to the ruined opera house, sitting in the charred remains of his box five, closing his eyes and deeply inhaling the smoky scent that still hovered in the air. Christine’s face flitted around in his mind, causing a pang to tear through his heart, but the ringing of that girl’s laughter drowned out the image, disturbing it with pure innocent ripples of new memories.
This strange new feeling seemed to sap all of his energy in its entirety, and Erik quickly fell into slumber.

Lila awoke with a smile on her face, but quickly grimaced as the dried salt of her tears pulled at her eyelids. Stretching and yawning luxuriously, Lila again reviewed the remains of her dress and decided she was absolutely filthy. Unsure of how to remedy her current state, Lila cautiously stepped out onto the cold floor, shivering as the cold air of the rooms seeped into her bones.
Peering out from the doorway, Lila saw no one. The remaining stumps of candle wax flickered weakly in the darkness, casting eerie shadows, but Lila was sure that he was not there.
Feeling a bit more sure of herself, she continued exploring, stopping briefly in front of a magnificent pipe organ that arched into the ceiling a good ten feet and more. Lila traced one tentative finger on the ivory of the keys, feeling their warmth through the chill in the room. It was much loved. Even she could sense it. There was great power hiding behind it, and Lila shivered with that thought.

Moving on, she found another door, separated with a curtain that led to a lone bed made from black wood and draped with red brocade coverlets. Parchment lined the wall with melodies scribbled in haste, sketches of costumes, stage settings, lyrics, and her face. Her face sketched in shadow, profile, smiling, sleeping, peered out amidst the notes and sketches and scribbles of the other papers. She was in Erik’s room.

Lila immediately felt as if in a panic, knowing she was violating his privacy, she quickly turned to leave, stumbling through the curtained door. She blindly rushed through the dim chambers, and appeared in another open space.
Sunken into the cold black floor was a marble tub engraved with intricate geometric circles. Lila smiled and turned on the spout, delighted when hot steaming water rushed out. Spying a small shelf of soaps, Lila curiously lifted each one, discouraged to find that they were all labeled in French. Opening them carefully, Lila selected two which she liked the best, both faint masculine smells that were clean and fresh. Pouring generous amounts of both, she shed her dress and climbed into the steaming tub, sighing loudly as the hot water tingled against her skin, warming her muscles and bones.
Lila felt as if in heaven, closing her eyes, her fingers swirling slowly in the water. She began to hum softly, forming small melodies that echoed off the water and seemed to swim around her head. Her humming became soft singing and then to the vibrating warmth of her honey voice as she sang in the bath, head thrown back, eyes closed arms outstretched to support the powerful sound that was emanating from her lungs. Singing was her ecstasy, alive her dead, her voice was her freedom.

Erik awoke with a start, the theater dark with the coming evening. Frowning at himself for having lost track of time, he swiftly made his way back through his many tunnels to the main chamber of his home. The candles had snuffed out and everything was bathed in darkness, but Erik’s keen eyes pierced through it all, surveying his home. There was singing coming from a doorway, beautiful, rich and low. It was that girl.
As if in a trance, Erik followed the voice, moving stealthily along the walls, his body trembling at the strength of the her voice. It seemed to caress him, bodily force him to move towards him, a haunting siren’s call.

As Erik reached the doorway, the singing stopped. He pressed his body against the stone doorway and peered in, catching his breath at the sight before him.
Lila lay naked in the water, head arched against the black marble of the stone. Her eyelids were closed, lips parted, skin flushed from the heat of the water as well as the exertion of singing. Erik’s eyes traveled down the pale arch of her necks and his nostrils flared as his vision settled on the heavy rise and fall of her breasts. Dark nipples seemed to mock him as her breathing slowed and she slipped slightly deeper into the water.
Smoldering eyes traveled still lower down her body, the soft round lines of her stomach and the dark shadows between her legs still visible even under the water. Feeling the tickle of desire cloud his vision, Erik clenched his jaw, flexing the muscles of his neck to clear his mind, but he quickly stopped as Lila moved to stand and climb out of the tub. She turned her back to the doorway, and carefully stood, water dripping in rivulets down the small of her back and dripping in languid courses down the roundness of her buttocks. She bent quickly to pick up the tattered remains of her dress, flashing the soft pink lips of her vulva. She looked confused and defeated as she looked around the room.

Erik moved into the room stealthily, grabbing a large towel tucked into the corner. He opened it and draped it across her shoulders carefully. Lila stiffened and clutched at the towel whirling around. Erik stared hungrily at the rosy flush that traveled along her cheeks, down her neck and to the curve of breast that peeked above the towel.

“I-I-didn’t know you were here,” Lila said quickly.
Erik smiled softly. “You have a beautiful voice.”

Lila flushed brighter and stared up at the handsome man before her. “Thank you.” He was still looking at her, while she stood almost naked before him. The idea caused a warm gush from between her legs…

“I have need for a good singer,” he said, interrupting her thoughts. He smiled slightly as she was startled out of her thoughts, as if he knew.
“Excuse me?”

“I have decided to make a new opera. I cannot let this house go to ruins, and I have decided to cast you as the lead,” he said.

“B-But, I am only an alto… not even a mezzo. No one will want to see your opera if I am the lead.”
Erik’s eyes hardened, “They will come to see a work of art, no matter your range.” Lila closed her mouth at his cold stare as he continued, “Go get dressed. There are dresses in the closet by your bed which should be suitable. Then report to me. There is much work to be done.”

He left then, black cape billowing behind him. And Lila felt as if she was going to faint. Opera? Lead? What a dream this must be…