The Room to Which He Was Bound
It is here in this neglected cave that a man was chained; chained to the darkness, the rats, chained up by society. He was sent to rot with nothing but his mask and the memory of the words that drove him down here.
Now I am here. The presence of loneliness is overpowering- as if someone was pushing down on me with every newton of force they possessed -making it painful to move and breathe. Every step I take is matched with more darkness. The darkness is growing just as the Phantom’s taste for revenge did.
By the time I reach the organ I’m consumed by the shadows. As my eyes adjust to the ominous atmosphere I’m able to make out a candle. It is burned down to the very end of its existence. The wax is everywhere, making this the only thing in the room not blanketed by dust. The organ looks like it was once adored however now it is just another part of this room. By the organ I see the outline of a throne; covered by red and black velvet and accented with gold. However, this is not the only detail about the throne that is visible. Draped over the chair is a cream, silk dress. The dress is aged but still has a brand new feel about it; almost as if a mannequin was the only one who wore it.
As I maneuver around this dreadful home I feel a sharp, punctuating shard dig its way into my ankle. I assume it’s glass, due to the fact that there are pieces of reflective material scattered all over the floor. The feeling of blood trickles down my foot and in between my toes, but I keep going. Feeling around for more clues and more aspects of this creatures life. However nothing grazes my hand or my feet. The only thing around is a gap between me and the rest of the world.
This must have been how the Angel lived.