In My Darkness: La Chatte Noire

Chapter Two: Meeting Monsieur O.G.

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So, I have about eighteen chapters to upload before you sad souls are up to speed. Let's get going, shall we?

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Chapter Two: Meeting Monsieur O.G.

She ran into something large and hard, but not like stone. As she looked up, a hand grabbed her forearm and held a gloved finger to her lips.

"Silence," the voice of the shadow whispered to her.

She nodded and the man released her, taking her by the hand and leading her away somewhere. His hand was gentle holding hers, as if he feared of breaking her fingers. The noises of the mob coming after them – or more, her – became more distant as they rushed off. A minute later, she found herself being led down a narrow stone hallway barely big enough to fit the man in front of her, who was now bearing a torch. Unfortunately, it was still difficult to discern anything about him as he was between her and the source of light. After another few minutes of walking, she found herself being led into a candle-lit room. The man dropped her hand and began walking towards an organ in the middle of the... well, it wasn't exactly a room. She wasn't quite sure what it was, but it was beautiful.

All over, there were candelabras of every shape and size imaginable, each candle in them lit and casting a warm golden light around her. Beside her was a small lake, with a boat floating on the water. Her eyes travelled from a boat into an alcove filled with pictures and drawings of all kinds. As she viewed the land, she found a desk with multiple box models and more pieces of parchment, an ink well and a couple of feather pens. She skipped over the next alcove, but saw a small, blood-red velvet curtain that she assumed was a small cutout holding something. Beside her was a large room-like place. There was a small table with a box holding up a monkey that held a set of hand cymbals. She was quite intrigued by the little creature, but saved her inquiry for a later time and her eyes moved on to the large swan shaped bed draped in more red velvet with what looked like a black lace curtain above it.

"Perhaps you shall reveal what interests you so?" the voice of the man asked, and her eyes snapped to the figure standing before the organ.

For the first time, she actually had the chance to view him from the front. He had a handsome build, looking quite strong for an organ player. Her eyes travelled up his torso and to the right, viewing his appealing features and eyes that she could see, even from this distance, were a soft, beautiful blue. But the other half of his face was covered in a plain white mask that she could not tell his features through. It was almost a shame to her, she thought he was quite handsome – a rarity, she had discovered, for most men she encountered were not beautiful in any way – and would have liked to see his face whole. Unfortunately, with so many others, he most likely wore the mask to cover some scar or hideous deformity that he would prefer her and any other not to see. She wouldn't have minded it at all. She had seen some rather nasty deformities in her life and delivered a few as well.

"Again, I shall ask," he repeated in his musical voice, "Will you reveal what interests you so?"

She swallowed and began walking forwards slowly down the slope. "This place is truly exquisite. Has it always been below l'Opera?"

"It was not always where it is now, and it was not always so exquisite," he answered ominously.

"Then... did you build this place?"

"The answer to your question depends upon its meaning. To what are you referring when you say 'this place;' the lair you stand in now, or le Maison d'Opera (the Opera House) above?"

"Either one," she responded, smiling, "Both, if you can answer."

"Oui."

She stopped at the bottom of the incline. "Oui? To which? Or... do you mean to say you built them both?"