Phantom of the Opera

The open door of Box 5 is like a silent and ominous invitation. You exchange a glance with Raoul, and he, with a protective gesture, carefully places you behind his body, positioning himself between you and the void of the box. "_____, we don't know yet if that person has bad intentions, but under no circumstances can we let our guard down." His voice is low but firm, and his gaze does not stray from the entrance. "If anything happens, I'm sure I can handle it, but you have to run away as soon as you get the slightest chance, understand?" Raoul's gaze is steady. His body slightly obstructs the entrance to the box, and he seems unwilling to take no for an answer. "All right. I promise. If anything happens, I'll go immediately to seek help." You nod, feeling the weight of responsibility. "But... you promise me one thing too: you'll put your own safety first. You won't make any rash moves until I've found help." "You're kind of like my safety rope, ____. My reason for being cautious." A shadow of a smile appears on his lips, but it disappears instantly. Upon entering the box, you finally discover that black figure, standing upright under a dim beam of light, calmly waiting for you to approach. He is a middle-aged man with dark skin and a stern expression. He wears a fez on his head. He appears to be Persian. Realizing that it is not the specter you feared so much, a sigh of relief escapes your lips. But that relief is immediately replaced by a flood of new questions that crowd your mind. "I know you must have countless questions. The first one I can answer is this..." The Persian nods and extends his hands in front of him, palms up, in a gesture to show that he is unarmed. "I won't harm you. On the contrary, I have come to offer you my help." "Well, the way you ‘helped’ us before was peculiar, to say the least." Raoul's voice is thick with skepticism. "More than help, I'd say it was pretty close to a threat." "I can understand your distrust, but desperate moments sometimes require desperate measures." His tone remains calm. His relaxed attitude irritates you both. You feel Raoul's hand squeeze yours tightly for a brief moment, a gesture of contained frustration, before letting go. "Calm down. If you lose your cool now, we'll find ourselves in an even more dangerous situation." The Persian observes your reactions. "People hate fear, but it is precisely fear that helps us stay away from danger." His words leave you stunned. You had thought of all kinds of scenarios, except this one. "Are you saying... you scared me on purpose to keep me away from danger?" You manage to articulate, trying to process the idea. "Are you referring to the Phantom?" "I think we've reached an initial consensus." He nods slowly. "Wait a moment." Raoul steps forward, his brow furrowed. "What exactly is the relationship between you and the Phantom? A simple exchange of words is not enough for us to trust you. Besides, if you believe so strongly in the power of fear, why did you decide to change your strategy now?" "I must admit that ____ is a young woman of uncommon tenacity. It is not something one sees often." A smile flashes in his gaze, but between the corners of his eyes and his mouth a deep furrow is etched, as if he couldn't smile more. "I thought ____ would be like the rest of the people who are curious about the Phantom, and that a good scare would be enough to drive her away. But her determination to find the truth remained firm, unshakable. Furthermore..." He makes a significant pause. "The Phantom has a deep attachment to her." "How can you know such a thing?" Raoul exclaims at the same time you feel a shiver run down your spine. "So you know him well! You know the Phantom!" "That is precisely why I decided to appear before you." His voice becomes more serious. "It is no longer enough to run away from the problem. We must confront the Phantom. I must put an end to my own mistake. In doing so, I may save him, or I may die in the attempt, but whatever the outcome, I fear this will be the result." His voice becomes increasingly lower until it almost becomes a whisper, as if he were reciting a monologue to himself. "Then, show us that your words are sincere." Raoul crosses his arms, defiant. "Stop with the riddles and speak clearly." Suddenly, the Persian turns directly to you, scrutinizing you from head to toe with an analytical gaze. "Miss____, I beg you to change your clothes for something lighter and more practical, that will allow you to move with greater agility." His tone is now somewhat urgent. "We must take advantage of this opportunity, right now, to go directly to the Phantom's hiding place." "What? Now?" Surprise makes you take a step back. "I believe that there, in his own lair, you will find the answer to all the riddles that torment you." You instinctively turn to seek Raoul's gaze. Concern and doubt are clearly etched on his face, drawing tense lines around his eyes and mouth. But now that you've obtained a clue after so much effort, you can't give up so easily. How could you give up now? "Understood." You nod, with a determination that surprises even yourself. "Please, give me a moment." You hurry to change your clothes,you feel your heart beating strongly against your ribs. You are about to leave, when you run into Raoul, who is waiting for you at the entrance, leaning against the doorframe. Smiling,he gently takes your hand and asks you over and over to be careful. Once again, with stealthy steps, you head to Box 5. The Persian waits there, motionless as a statue. "Well? What are we waiting for?" you ask impatiently. "There is no hurry, the entrance is right here." For a moment, you are speechless with surprise when you realize that he is referring to the box itself. But as soon as you stop to think about it, it all makes terrible, logical sense. After all, box number 5 has always been under the exclusive control of the Phantom. The Persian heads to the farthest, darkest corner of the box, slips behind the heavy velvet curtain, and begins to feel along the wall. After a slight, almost imperceptible metallic click, a section of the floor beneath the luxurious seats opens silently, revealing a dark passageway. Once again, surprise hits you. The Persian wasn't lying about the location of the entrance. There was a secret passageway right here. The Persian points to the narrow, gloomy entrance. As you peer inside, you can make out the beginning of a staircase that sinks into the darkness. "I have never seen such an elaborate mechanism." Raoul examines the edges of the trapdoor, impressed despite himself. "The mechanism and the room's structure are totally integrated... No, rather, this mechanism is integrated into the entire theater." "Exactly," The Persian confirms. "The construction of this opera house included plans for these types of hidden mechanisms in every corner from the very foundations. Follow me. You will soon realize that these mechanisms are just the tip of the iceberg." "____, I'll go down first." Raoul stands at the edge of the abyss. "Don't take a step away from me." Slowly, you descend the long, narrow stairs. Torches are fixed to the damp stone walls, casting dancing lights and elongated shadows. The echo of a constant dripping can be heard in the distance, somewhere hidden, breaking the oppressive silence. After what seems like an eternity of descent, you finally reach the bottom of the stairs. A long corridor stretches as far as the eye can see. You would never have imagined that the opera's underground passages could house such a vast and complex space. It's like a stone labyrinth. "Are you okay? ____, you're shaking." Raoul approaches, his voice full of concern. "I'm fine, it's just very cold." You rub your arms. "Can anyone really live in such a cold and dark place?" "I suspect the gentleman who brought us here can answer your question." Raoul shoots an ironic glance at the Persian. The Persian, who had remained silent all this time, stops when he hears you and, without saying a word, points to a wall. He approaches it and begins to tap it sharply with his knuckles. Then he turns and repeats the action on the opposite wall. There is nothing unusual about his behavior, but you can't help thinking that something is strange... It's the sound. Two bricks sound different from the rest. "This wall isn't solid. It connects two different places." Raoul comes to the same conclusion after noticing the difference in sound. "It's almost certain that the entire opera house is interconnected underground by this network. There are probably other secret entrances besides box number 5." "You are right." The Persian nods solemnly. "Beneath the Paris Opera extends a subterranean labyrinth. I have not been able to explore it completely, but if my assumption is correct, practically all places on the surface are connected. This place is unfathomable. The only thing I am sure of is that this labyrinth leads directly to the Phantom's lair. But, after all, he is a human being... His home cannot be as bad as this place." "If that is so, there must be hundreds of secret mechanisms here." Raoul reflects aloud, while his gaze scrutinizes the shadows. "In this way, the Phantom could appear and disappear at will. But the scale of this complex is immense. Planning and building it must have required dozens of workers and architects." "It didn't take many people," the Persian corrects him, and there is a tone of involuntary admiration in his voice. "In fact, he did it all himself. We are talking about a genius, a man who discovered and took advantage of an underground lake. This marvel is the product of the joint work of nature and the mind of a single man. If the plan were divided into parts, an ordinary person could never imagine the complete design from a single fragment." "Are you saying... that he is the true architect of the entire Paris Opera?" The question comes out in a whisper of astonishment. "The true architect did not seek fame or glory." The Persian pauses. "Rather, fame and glory no longer mattered to him." "It sounds like he had a brilliant past." Raoul comments, thoughtful. "I was able to witness his rise and fall with my own eyes in my homeland..." "Do you mean the Phantom was in Persia before?" Raoul shows surprise. "This is the first time I've heard of such a genius." "That is because his story was buried beneath the sands of time, just as the brightest stars outshine the light of other celestial bodies." The Persian looks into the void, as if seeing scenes from the past. "On one occasion I rescued him when he lost consciousness in the street. His face was pale as wax, and his body was little more than a skeleton covered in skin. After getting to know him, I discovered he was a man of multiple and astounding talents, but he rarely spoke of his past. Furthermore, he has never removed his mask." "The mask? He has worn that mask since then?" You ask, recalling the terrifying descriptions. "His mysterious mask even managed to captivate the Princess of Sudan." His tone becomes somber. "The Princess of Sudan..." Raoul frowns. "They say she was ruthless and used the cruelest methods of torture." "Through methods like the iron forest or the Punjab lasso, the Phantom used the bodies and lives of his victims as steps to ascend in the court and win the perverse admiration of the princess." The Persian closes his eyes for a moment, as if trying to block the images. "On several occasions I tried to persuade him, to beg him to stop, but he insisted he had no other alternative to survive. At that moment, I knew in the depths of my heart that the day would come when our paths would have to part." "His survival does not in any way justify the suffering and death of others." Your voice sounds hard, inflexible. "That is so." The Persian nods with regret. "He went from being a victim of fate to becoming a willing executioner, and little by little, even the royal family of Sudan began to fear him. In the end, only one path remained for him: exile, in order to survive. I have come here, to Paris, hoping to rescue him from himself. But I did not imagine... that he would harm so many people. This time, I will put an end to his misdeeds with my own hands and put an end, once and for all, to my mistake." A sudden, dry, metallic crunch echoes in the corridor, interrupting his confession. "What was that sound?" "The Phantom has discovered us." The Persian's face tenses immediately. "The exit will close soon. There are thousands of mechanisms in here, we must hurry upstairs!" You rush up the stairs in a hurry. Your hurried footsteps echo like drums in the long, narrow hallway, amplified by the echo. "_____, hurry! You go first!" Raoul shouts, gently pushing you ahead. "I'll stay behind to hold off the Phantom if necessary!' "Raoul!" You shout, your heart constricted with fear. But you know you cannot keep wasting time.In this labyrinth, every second counts, and hesitation would only make you a burden to both of them. "All right! But don't take too long to come up!" You rush ahead and climb the stairs as fast as you can, taking the steps two at a time, the taste of fear in your mouth. You wait for them, trembling, at the entrance to the passageway, and luckily, you soon hear the sound of their hurried footsteps and the panting of their breaths. Despite how nervous you are, you manage to return to the surface unharmed. The moment the Persian sets foot on the floor of the box, the door behind you slams shut with a dull, definitive thud. With a serious expression and a shadow of deep concern on his face, the Persian warns you that the Phantom will not sit idly by after this intrusion. He also informs you that he has other urgent matters to attend to and urges you, vehemently, to be very careful. As you watch him walk away, a cold certainty settles in your chest: it seems that a new storm is brewing at the opera house.