The Phantom Of The Opera 소설 & 이야기

He stood straight with a serious face as he began his explanation. "Ghosts are the souls of dead humans who... well, aren't ready to rest in peace. They don't have powers. All they can do is move from one place to another without being seen. Well, not by everyone though." "But... if you're a demon, why then are you in this form?" She couldn't help but ask.

A slow, hot burn that tightened my chest and slicked my thighs. Then I saw him. He rose from a throne of ebony and bone. A silhouette of pure darkness wrapped in black leather. Obsidian and silver covered his face—a wolf's snout, narrow slits for eyes, a mouth that showed nothing but the occasional gleam of fang. The Phantom. Our gazes locked. The bond slammed into place like a physical blow. A primal snarl ripped from his throat, echoing through the hall. Conversations died. Every wolf turned to watch.

Elena whispered breathlessly. But the voices only laughed. At the end of the dark corridor— a door stood slightly open. Black smoke curled slowly from inside the room. Elena froze. The air itself felt wrong here. Heavy. Rotting. Alive. Another violent crash sounded from inside. Then Roberto’s voice growled hoarsely: “Get away from me.” Elena pushed the door open immediately. And stopped breathing. Shadow creatures crawled across the walls. Not fully human. Not fully spirit. Dark distorted figures twisted unnaturally around the room while candles burned blood-red.

In his hands was a long strip of black silk. “Tonight we perform Christine’s part from *The Phantom of the Opera*,” he said, voice low and commanding. “The scene where she is drawn to the Phantom in the darkness. You will be blindfolded. You will sing while I take you on the piano. The music and the blindfold will strip away your control. Your voice must carry through the pleasure.” My pulse raced. “Blindfolded… on the piano?”

And now, when we met again, I was already bones in the ground—and she had become a powerful, influential billionaire. But Nicky was sick. And she needed me. So she came looking for me—the man she hated with every fiber of her being—and unleashed her vengeance on everyone I loved. But I was already dead. Suddenly, Adeline's cold voice cut through my thoughts, pulling me back. "If Samuel won't show himself, I'll just have to turn up the pressure." My stilled heart lurched. The next instant, Adeline gave the order. Her men swarmed my elderly father and hanged him alive—right there, in front of my grave.

The possessive way he fucked me like he both hated and needed me. I forced a grin. “You’re crazy, man. You watch too many movies.” He stepped aside but whispered as I passed, “Run while you still can. He’ll ruin you.” Later that day, I overheard two employees gossiping near the cafeteria. “Did you hear about The Ghost? Some billionaire who shows up masked at underground parties. Pays good money, fucks like a demon, then vanishes. Nobody ever sees his face.” I laughed it off again. But deep inside of me, i was worried for myself.

He turns on a flashlight and so do several of the others, and we take the steps down to a subterranean passageway. “This goes to an underground set of rooms beneath campus that the Phantom discovered,” Dom says to me. “That’s where his name comes from. He’s set up musical equipment down here, synthesizers and computers and a piano. It’s amazing what he’s done to the place. It takes a bit to get there.” “His music is incredible. He's a genius,” Sophie, who's a music major, tells me. We walk down the passageway. Soon, we can hear the thump of music.

Chase paused, his expression shifting with curiosity. "What's this?" he muttered to himself. "Ha! Foolish boy, this is the Phantom Coffin, a weapon I painstakingly refined over decades!" Marais sneered. "This coffin isolates everything, even your spiritual senses. You won't be able to detect my presence!" "Phantom Coffin, seal the souls!" Marais intoned while his hands formed seals. A massive black coffin materialized and descended like a storm cloud, enveloping Chase. In an instant, Chase felt his head grow heavy. His vision turned blurry, and his spiritual senses waver.

“Hello, Emma.” The voice slid through the room like silk. I whipped my head up and froze. A figure stepped from the shadows, dressed in immaculate white. The mask, the pale gloves, the chilling aura. I knew it instantly. The Phantom. The man in white. The ghost I thought I’d seen fall. “No…” My voice cracked. “No, you’re dead. I saw you—” He laughed. A low, rich sound that slithered over my skin. “And I thought you were looking for Dennis.”

STILL BACK STAGE. Asmo was about to dismiss his fears, a sudden, deafening explosion rocked the Opera House. The lights shattered into a million glittering shards, plunging the entire venue into darkness. In the eerie silence that followed, a booming, diabolical voice erupted from the speakers, sending chills down the spines of the terrified audience. "Welcome to the bloody show of the millennium!" the voice bellowed. "I present to you our real surprise guest of honor. He is the highest in the room, and the star of the show - he is the Morningstar!"