Haunting Crescendos (POTO) - 11. The Gardens of Hades

When one considers a passage way to another realm, one would think it to be magically instantaneous, if not a tad disorientating. Another would view it as being on a park ride. Due to the number of park rides currently in existence it is safe to say that the experience of each varied, especially when considering the character of the occupant. Lucky for Cheryl she was a hard one to disturb.

At first she expected something along the lines of a roller coaster, maybe even one of the whirly jerky type rides, but no. What she got was the love tunnel. Slow and seemingly awkward was best how to describe it. It was if she were walking through the marshlands, navigating through heavy fog and with a nagging fear of sharp-toothed creatures below and around her. Her steps were shaky at best and one too many times she had caught herself before she tripped. She couldn’t see her feet, when she looked down they were engulfed in a black, soupy mess that never seemed to thin out.

“Phantom, how long do I have walk through this mess?” Cheryl’s voice was whiny and drawn out, eliciting a grimace from her. “Sorry about that, I get a little peevish when I- Phantom, are you listening?” She looked around, blinded by the fog. “Erik?”

He wasn’t beside her, behind her, or even in front of her. Cheryl slowly went from an early thirties mind set to a young and very frightened five year old one. “Erik?” Her hands shook mildly and she busied them with brushing out her hair. Where was he? She called out again, her voice quavering.

The ghost didn’t let her wander lost did he? The thought crept with deadly efficiency into her mind, scaring her thoroughly. He didn’t go back on his word, right? He was going to let her continue working even when on the other side. But her work entailed his exorcise from the establishment. “Oh God,” she rattled breathlessly. The phantom left her here. He left her here to wander forever. She was as good as dead if she wasn’t already, she was – “Mademoiselle Woods?”

Cheryl glanced to her right, seeing the Phantom stand with arms crossed. She imagined that if he had a nose he would be looking down it and at her.

Pushing the thought aside she allowed relief to wash over her face, “I- I’m sorry, I couldn’t see you or anything and you didn’t answer when I called. So- so – “, “So you thought I abandoned you. Really,” she shrugged, cracking a small smile.

Erik sighed, rolling his eyes as he turned about and walked off. “This way, please.” Cheryl made certain she was close to him; keeping him in eyesight and close enough so that she could grapple onto his cloak should he start to fade from her sight. Which he happened to be doing just at that moment she noticed. With a quick grab, Cheryl held a handful of his cloak tightly not daring to let go not even as the light in front of him ignited and engulfed them.

The sounds of her surrounding were the first things Cheryl was able to register. It sounded as if she were at a construction site; the bangs of hammers filled her ears, along with something horrendous that dared to call itself singing. Timidly, she opened her eyes, squinting against the light. Black spots flooded her vision but as quickly as they came they soon dispersed and she was left to look around.

She was back onstage, looking out at the empty sea of chairs. People walked in and out of her line of vision, many of them appearing half costumed while others carried something in hand to somewhere. Out of nowhere, she was drawn back into the nearby shadows of the stage curtains. A gloved hand muffled her cries, “Stop twitching already, it’s me.”

The phantom’s voice was close, the material of the mask barely brushing against the shell of her ear. “Look over there, where the dancers are.” She did, and what she saw made her eyes widen.

The girl was a slender thing, pale complexioned with a head of long golden hair done up. She danced gracefully, following instructions barked out by an elder woman, who emphasized each word by the pounding of her cane.

Cheryl felt both hand and body slip away and she turned to find Erik leaving silently.

From the darkness of backstage to the dim lighted corridors, Cheryl followed the ghost to Box Five and from there down a hidden passage. While marching through the bleakness of those tunnels, avoiding the mice and rats, Cheryl realized where she was being led and before too soon she saw it.

The dark, glossy surface of the lake was illuminated by lanterns near the water’s edge, surrounding a body of land that was fringed with sparkling sands. Beyond the sands and lights was a white building, stately and out of place.

Erik strode away from her, nearing the edge that sharply dropped into the water where a boat sat waiting. There was a pole on both sides of the lake and Cheryl vaguely noticed the chain that connected them as she entered the craft. She watched as he fished out the chain from the waters and slowly began pulling them across the lake then turned her attention to the nearing sands and house.

“Are those,” Cheryl paused, disbelieving, “gardens?” Erik looked back to her, “They were.” Her jaw fell and she scrambled for words, asking him how he could have had them down there, gawking at the rose bushes and other such growth.

The boat rest on the sands, sinking into the shimmering particles, “They were imported, much like the sand you see here. It was all for Christine at the time and still is. The gardens didn’t last very long, the lack of sunlight made them puny things. My lack of attention is what really killed them though. They’ll be gone in a few weeks.” Cheryl fell behind Erik, following him as he walked along the path to the house.

She realized upon closer inspection that the white paint of the house concealed the mortar and brick beneath. “When did you start working on this?”

“Too long ago to remember,” came the curt reply.