Immortal Darkness (Phantom Diaries #3) (17 page)

Though my fingers called to me, begging for assistance as they were squeezed to a pulp, I knew I had to remain professional and continue with the song as if nothing peculiar was happening.

But all I really wanted to do was pull off the mask and ask Brandon what he was doing.

He pulled me into his arms, something that was completely unscripted.  I pushed my hand to his chest, just barely able to utter my next line.  My voice should have been strong and loud, the notes steady and high, but they were chocked, small and confused.

As the violins and cellos built up tension, I gazed into the eyes of the stranger behind the mask.

“What are you doing?” I whispered.

I thought it might snap him out of it, bring him back to the moment, but he just sneered, something that was so uncharacteristic of Brandon.

“Brandon?” I said with confusion.

The music died down, my cue to resume singing.

Pressed to the phantom’s chest, I felt imprisoned.

Eric, I suddenly thought.  Had he had enough with this folly and decided to put an end to it in his own dramatic fashion?

I heard the audience gasp with surprise, or perhaps it was dismay, as I whimpered through my next lines.

The sneer beneath the mask turned to a demonic grin that was amused and pleased with itself.

With a sudden shove that sent me back a few paces, I whispered, “Kristine?”  It was impossible, yet that grin, so evil, so vile… it had to be her.

Shaking my head, I shielded my eyes, panicked and overcome by fear.  It didn’t make sense.  This phantom was tall, large and strong.  How could Kristine transform herself so dramatically?

No, it couldn’t be her.

I gasped for air, hyperventilating and unable to stop it.  My heart pounded in my chest, drowning the growing concern that could be heard from the crowd.  I was vaguely aware of cast members as they approached, distantly conscious of the music that stumbled and faltered to an awkward stop.  My vision tunneled and my grasp on reality faded.

I wanted to hold on, to explain to those around me what was happening, but the darkness took a hold of me and didn’t want to let go.

Chap
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C
onsciousness returned in ripples.  The sound of people, panicked, chaotic and confused, came to me in nauseating waves.  My head throbbed and for a moment I thought I had a concussion.  I felt hands on my elbows, under my head, on my brow.

“Annette,” a voice called with an edge of fear.  “Annette, wake up.  Open your eyes.  Annette.  Annette!”

The voice didn’t make sense as I tried to figure out where I was, while the hands at my elbow became insistent as they pulled me to a sitting position.

My head continued to throb, as did my whole body.  I shook and trembled.

“Annette.”

I opened my eyes to see Chace, his face blurred and shaky.

“We have to get out of here.”

Glancing around, somewhat disconnected from what was truly happening, I realized it wasn’t my body that was trembling, but the whole of the Opera House.  High above us, I saw the chandelier swing back and forth, its crystals reflecting on the crowd that pushed and shoved each other in an attempt to run out of the shaking building.

“Please, ladies and gentlemen,” Aaron called into the microphone.  “Please don’t panic.  There’s nothing to worry about.  This building is solid.  People, please.”

His words seemed to heighten the need to rush out rather than calm the masses.

“Come on,” Chace said.  He pulled me to my feet.  “We have to get you out of here.”

“What’s going on?”  I looked at him, lost and confused.  “What happened?”

“I don’t know.  You started to lose it.  Your singing went off and you mumbled.  It seemed like Brandon had done something to upset you.  You were supposed to walk away from him, but then you just collapsed.”

I put my hand to my head and tried to control the squeamish feeling that refused to leave my gut.  “It wasn’t Brandon,” I whispered, almost afraid to say aloud what had really happened with this phantom.

“Of course, it was Brandon, Annette.  I saw him.  I saw him get ready for the show tonight.”

“I’m telling you, Chace.”  I held onto him, unable to find my balance, or my strength.  “The person behind that mask wasn’t Brandon.  There was something wrong, something demonic and vile behind that mask.”

“Please, ladies and gentleman,” Aaron called out again, to no avail.  After a few more attempts, he let the microphone fall to the stage and came to help Chace hold me up.

“Help me get her off stage,” Chace ordered in a way that was so unlike him. “Those who aren’t preoccupied with getting out of here quick and safe are preoccupied with getting photos of Annette.  Tomorrow there’ll be shots of her lying on the floor all over the place.”

My strength came back to me with every step we took.  The rumbling of the Opera House hastened our steps, pushing us to find shelter should the building fall around us as it seemed to promise.

As we came to the narrow corridor that led down to the tunnels, I spotted the phantom.  “He’s there,” I shouted.  The happenings around me became insignificant and all I wanted to do was catch up to that phantom and find out what was really going on.

Aaron bolted toward the stairs after the phantom.

“Stay here,” Chace said as he propped me up against the wall.

“No,” I said as adrenaline gave me the strength I needed to chase after whoever it was that was ruining this night.  “I’m going after him with you guys.”

Chace hesitated a moment then turned my shoulder toward the stairs and followed behind me.  Down in the tunnel, I could barely make out the odd shadows that danced against the wall, but it was impossible to find their source.

“Aaron,” I called out, my voice echoing back to me.  “Aaron, where are you?”

The sound of heavy heels on the concrete floor caught my attention and I turned to see Eric.  My heart sank at the sight of him and my gut felt like it’d been knotted.

“Eric,” I said with a shake of my head.  I didn’t want to believe it.  Despite knowing how he felt about this opera, about Aaron, I couldn’t believe he would push it this far.  “Why?  Why are you doing this?”

Confusion filled his eyes as he approached me and held his hand out to me.  “Doing what, Annette?”

“Why, Eric?” I backed away, unwilling to allow his touch to change how I now saw him.  “Why?”

“Annette, I don’t know what you're thinking, but… I was at home, listening to you sing, listening to the triumph this opera is poised to be.  As angry and upset as I was with the show opening at all, I still felt a great sense of pride, for you, for your voice, for your performance.  You faltered, and my heart broke, but I thought you’d regain your composure and go on.  Then you choked and I knew something was wrong, very wrong.  Not long after, you fell completely silent and all I could hear was a loud rumbling; that and the screams and thundering footfall of frantic opera fans.  I came up to see what was going on.”

“The phantom,” I said, almost gushing with relief as I realized he’d had nothing to do with this disaster.  “I was singing, and he was there, but I thought it was Brandon, but it wasn’t, and he hurt my hand, and I thought it might be you, but the pain became intense and…”

Eric held his hand up to catch mine and calm me.  “Catch your breath.  Everything will be all right.”  He glanced around the gloom of the tunnels that led to his underground world.  “He came down here?”

“Yeah, I saw him go down the stairs.  Aaron went after him.”

We heard a shuffle in the distance.

“Aaron,” I called out.

“Down here.”

With Chace and Eric at my heels, I followed the sound of Aaron’s voice and found him.  The phantom’s mask in his hands, he stood before a dark figure.  It was obvious at first glance that it couldn’t be Kristine.

“My God,” I said as I finally realized who it was.

“Monte,” Chace said behind me.  “What’s he doing down here?”

I came up to Aaron.  “He was the one behind the mask?”  I couldn’t believe the absurdity.  There had to be some mistake.  He was the director of this new show.  What could he possibly have to gain by causing such havoc on opening night?

“Well, well… Eric.  I was beginning to wonder when you’d come around.”  Monte’s voice was far from being smooth and calm as when he’d directed the company. “Is it the scent of hell that has brought you here?”

I looked to Eric.  “What is he talking about?”

“Eric has a long standing bound to hell.  Has he not had the pleasure of letting you know about it?”  Monte’s eyes gleamed with devilish pleasure and he smashed his hands together as if crushing an insect between his palms.  “Yes… his immortal soul.  Someone has to pay for that.”

“If you’ve come all this way to have a chat with Eric,” Aaron said as he grabbed my elbow, “we’ll leave you two alone and get out of here.  Annette has nothing to do with any of this.”

Monte stepped forward and barred the path.  “Not so fast, lover boy.”  He reached out with a hand that looked more like a claw and grabbed Aaron’s shoulder.  “It just so happens that your lovely lady has a great deal to do with this.”

For all of Kristine’s haunting and the way she’d left me feeling these past months, nothing could have prepared me for the pure evil that emanated from every pore of this stranger’s being.  His eyes glowed deep red while his lips curled back to reveal tiny pointed teeth.

“Kristine promised me her soul. She bargained quite adamantly for her lover’s soul.” Monte turned to Eric.  “Everlasting life has a price, Eric.  Did you never think I would come for payment?”

“I’ve never asked to be immortal.  If Kristine sought my immortality, it was all her doing.  I didn’t ask anything of her… of you.”

A sinister chuckle rumbled gently in Monte’s belly and grew until it echoed through the tunnels and left us all clapping our hands to our ears.  “How innocent you can be when you choose.  Do you really believe it changes anything whether you wanted immortality or not?”

His chuckling came to a sudden stop and he turned his devilish gaze to me.  I almost whimpered aloud from sheer fear as he gazed deep into my eyes, almost reaching in to grab my soul from where he stood.

I shivered and backed away.  My hand sought out my crucifix but couldn’t find it.

“Kristine became a restless spirit, thanks to Helene.  She cheated me!”  His anger spewed, heated and putrid as his breath filled the air.  “She promised me her soul and has not followed through.”

He reached out to me and I screamed as his fingers came within inches of my throat.  The sound of my voice was accompanied by an ominous rumble that shook the Opera House right down to the foundations. 

Chap
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T
he tunnels around us groaned under the strain as a thin cloud of dust rained down on us.

Eric took advantage of the distraction and rushed into Monte, pushing him away from me and into the wall.  Unperturbed Monte let out an amused laugh as he shook his head.  How chivalrous of you, Eric.  I didn’t think you had it in you to come to the aid of a damsel in distress.”