One lone candle illuminated the vast darkness, the darkness that brings sorrow-not fear. There is no red dripping from the walls, but the Phantom is red with anger and green with envy. “How is it I am the one who is shunned, why must I pay for sins that are not my own?” The Phantom sits alone pondering this very thought, for he has no other distractions, he has no companions. Beyond the empty lake, black with despair. Beyond the throne for a king ruling a land of one. Lies The Phantom’s only consolation:
His organ, where he composes his beautiful creations. Pages and pages, more and more pages, filled with music that has the composers full attention. The phantom can pour his heart into “The Music of The Night,” the music the words of which he believes with all his might.
The Phantom is no angel though. As he paces in his lair he is plotting revenge, revenge so bitter one would rather visit his lair. His lair…
The light is so scarce coming from only one source, one candle, one ruby red candle, the flame flickering, dancing, then suddenly leaping into the air. Shadows move across the room with minds of their own. Follow one and it may lead you out to the lake. The Phantom’s lair is separated from the outside world by the inky unfathomable lake. Dare to cross the lake and you will eventually reach the throne, although it isn’t built on bones there is an aura around the throne that ensures no one gets near.
Take my advice and run, run, run out of the lair while you still can. Run past the shattered mirror, and the collapsed stairs. Run away before The Phantom puts you in a musically administered trance. The Phantom may be alone, but, “the true distortion lies in his soul.”
Photo Credit: Riccardo Cuppini via Compfight
