I gasped for air as we came up to the surface. I coughed and gasped for air. Obiviously being human for some long was rubbing off on me. I was still in the Phantom's arms. I glanced up at his face. He was staring stright ahead. I looked into his deep purple eyes. I sensed pain in them....lonleness....darkness. I didn't know where we were. We were surrounded by darkness. He put me on my feet. I didn't move. Suddenly a fire was lite as he held a torch in his hand. I could still hear the thunderous A-minor cord in the background, as he took one of my hands and started to lead me down the dreary wet hallway. We seemed to be in some sewers or something.
I had seen the Phantom in my dream's many times. Heard his voice many times. I sensed gentleness in this "phantom guardian" as he had called himself. I felt like he had always been a part of me somehow. Sense I had first seen The Phantom of the Opera. I did not pull away as this man took my hand. Though I was frightend. As when he looked around at me the torch went out for no reason. I wasn't scared of the dark. But that scared the s**t out of me. I let out a scream. I couldn't see in the dark passage and I was frightend, so I let out a cry. But for a faint red glimmer at a distantcorner of the wall. I cried out. My voice was the only sound, for I feared the Phantom was gone, and that I was in hell. But because the A-minor chord has stopped as well. As well as the singing. And, suddenly, a hand was laid on mine...or rather a stone-cold, bony thing that seized my wrist and did not let go.
I cried out again. An arm took me round the waist and supported me. I wanted to cry 'mat'. I struggled for a little while and then gave up in the attempt. I was dragged toward the little red light and then I saw that I was in the hands of a man wrapped in a large cloak and wearing a white mask that hid his left half of his face. I made one last effort; my limbs stiffened, my mouth opened to scream, but a hand closed it, a hand which I felt on my lips, on my skin... a hand that smelt of death. Then I fainted away.
When I opened my eyes, we were still surrounded by darkness. A lantern, standing on the ground, showed a bubbling well. The water splashing from the well disappeared, almost at once, under the floor which I was lying, with my head on the knee of the man in the black cloak and the white mask. He was bathing my temples and his hands smelt of death. I tried to push them away, and asked "who are you? Where is the voice?" His only answer was a sigh. Suddenly a hot breath passed over my face, and I precieved a white shape, beside the man's black shape, in the darkness.
The black shape lifted me onto the white shape, a glad neighing greeted my astounded ears. The animal quivered. I was lying on the back of a saddle. I had believed the phantom...trusted him. I had believed in the voice, but had never believed in the "ghost". Now however I began to wonder, with a shiver, whether I was the ghost's prisoner. I called upon the voice to help me, for I should have never imagined that the voice and the ghost were one. I made no movement and left myself go. The black shape held me up, and I made no effort to escape. A curious feeling of peacefulness came over me and I thought that I must be under the influence of some cordial. I had the full command of my senses; and my eyes became used to the darkness, which was lit, here and there, by fitful gleams. 
I caculated that we were in a narrow circular gallery, probably running all around some building (my guess and opera house), which was immense underground. Well while the horse was quietly carrying me on his back, the black shape was still holding me up and the horse walked on, and sure-footed. I could not tell you, even approximitly, how long this ride lasted; I only know that we seemed to turn and turn and often went down a spiral stair into the very heart of the earth. Even then, it may be that my head was turning , but I don't think so: no my mind was quite clear. At last , the horse raised it's nostials, sniffed the air and quickend his pace a little. I felt a motioness in the air and the horse stopped. The darkness has lifted. A sort of bluey light surrounded us. We were at the edge of a lake, whose leaden waters streached into the distance, into the darkness; but the blue light lit up the bank and I saw a little boat fastened to an iron ring on the wharf!
Yes, but I knew that all that existed and that there was nothing supernatural about that underground lake and boat. But think of the exceptional conditions in which I arrived upon that shore! I don't know whether the effects of the cordial had worn off when the man's shape lifted me into the boat, but my terror began all over again. My gruesome escort must have noticed it, for he sent the beautiful horse back and I heard his hoofs trampling up a staircase while the man jumped into the boat, untied the rope that held it and seized the oars. He rowed with a quick, powerful stroke; and his eyes, under the mask, never left me. We slipped across the noiseless water in the bluey light which I told you of; then we were in the dark again and we touched shore. And I was once more taken into the man's arms. I cried aloud, having forgotten complely who the man was. And then, suddenly, I was silent, dazed by the light...Yes, a dazzling light in the midist of which I had been put down. 
I sprang to my feet. I was in the middle of a drawing-room that seemed to be decorated, adorned and furnished with nothing but flowers, flowers both magnificent and stupid, because of the silk ribbons that tied them to baskets, like those they sell in the shops on the boulevards. They were to much civalized flowers, like those given to a beautiful women. I wasn't beautiful though. And, in the midst of all these flowers, stood the black shape of the man in the mask, with arms crossed, and he said "Don't be afraid, Melissa; you are in no danger." It was the voice that had helped me realize my power. He who had sung to me back in that cave. He, of the male gender, that despite my distrust in men, I felt I could trust.
My anger equaled my amazement. I rushed at the mask and tried to snatch it away, so as to see the face of the voice the man said "You are in no danger, so long as you do not touch the mask." And taking me gently by the wrists , he forced me into a chair and then went down on his knees before me and said nothing more! His humility gave me back some of my courage; and the light restored me to the realiteis of life. However extraordinary the adventure might be, I was now surrounded by mortal, visible, tangible things. The furniture, the hangings, the candles, the vases and the very flowrs in their baskets, of which I could almost have told whence they came and what they cost, were bound to confine my imagination to the limits of a drawing-room quite as commonplace as any that, at least , had the excuse of not being inthe cellars of the Opera. 
I had, no doubt, to do with a terrible, eccentric person, who, in some mysterious fashion, had succeeded in taking up his abode there, under the Opera house, five stories below the level of the ground. And the voice, the voice which I had recognized under the mask, was on its knees before me, was a man! And I began to cry....The man, still kneeling, must have understood the cause of my tears, for he said, "It's true, Melissa!...I am not an Angel, nor a genius, nor a ghost...I am Lelouch!" I stared at this man named Lelouch.
It took me a minute. But then I realize who he was once more! MY (and I mean MINE b***h's) Phantom of the Opera. I patted his head gently as he kneeled before me and weeped. Weeped at my feet. I didn't like seeing these tears. I dried mine and petted the Phantom Lelouch's head. I had come to learn later that his name was actually Erik, like the original Phantom of the Opera, but that was not what he went by. He did not like being named after him or something like that. So he took up the name Lelouch. A much more fitting name for him in my opinon (note to self...must remember to name my first born son Lelouch...oh sorry sidetracked anyways). The thunderous A-minor chord started up again as I started to sing to him. In sleep he sang to me
In dreams he came
That voice which calls to me
And speaks my name
And do I dream again
For now I find
The Phantom of the Opera
Is there
Inside my mind
He glanced up at me. He took my hand, and felt the warmth in it. As if he didn't know what warmth was or had never felt it. He placed my hand on his cheek. The tears began to stop. He regained control of himself, a smile came across his face, and he started to sing back to me. Sing once again with me
Our strange duet
My power over you
Grows stronger yet
And though you'll turn from me
To glance behind
The Phantom of the Opera
Is there
Inside your mind
I smiled back glad that he was more cheerful now. He took me into his arms and began dancing with me as the mysterious music played in the background, and as we sang to one another.Those who have seen your face
Draw back in fear
I am the mask you wear
He followed in harmony till we were singing at the same time.
Phantom Lelouch: It's me they hear
Both: Your/my spirt and my/your voice
in one combined!
The Phantom of the Opera
Is there
Inside your/my mind
I started vocalizing an E6 (I think that was the note...it's a high note sung in operas...I know that. I can get up to it...but can only keep it up for about 2 minutes) note. His voice gaining volume as he spoke to me in a musical tone.Phantom Lelouch: Sing my Angel of Music!
I continued to vocalize the note. It was no surprise I could go so long with out needing to take a breath for holding the note up for so long without turning purple in the face. Because mermaids were very good singers.
Phantom Lelouch: Sing my Angel [vocalizing continues]...Sing for me!
I couldn't stop yet. Not yet. Had to keep going. I had a thing for singing till the song was ENTIERLY over. Phantom Lelouch: Sing....[vocalizing continues] Sing my Angel! SING FOR ME!
I let out one more pitch higher and then stopped and let my eco go through out the room. As we sat there...I felt like Anastasia and even Mat somehow knew what was going on.
To be continued in Chapter 27...
