Lola

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is basically a fan fiction of Phantom of the Opera. I've done a lot of these on another site, but oh well, it's an amazing tale! This version starts with Edward running for his beloved Lola, who has been captured by a ghost. Read on!

Submitted: November 16, 2007

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Submitted: November 16, 2007

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Edward was running down the corridor, the torch held high in his hand. Lola was gone, but he was determined to find her. He had promised to keep her safe, and he knew he'd let her out of his grasp. Lola had trusted him, and Edward had failed her. He was quietly, yet breathlessly, whispering to himself the same words.

"She'll be alright, she can't be hurt. She'll be alright." The corridor was dimly lit by the torches on the walls, lighting up his way with dim fire. Edward could almost hear the sound of her last screams echoeing the halls. The sound was too much to bear, and Edward found himself screaming as he ran.


"Lola! Lola, where are you!" He wished dearly to hear the faint, sweet voice of little Lola to shout out where she was. But the halls were silent, silent enough to deafen those in their graves. Edward was still running, barely thinking about the length of the corridor. All he could do was keep running and running and running.

All of a sudden, there came a fork in the hallway. Edward looked desperately either way, knowing that one way would lead him to the ghost that took his precious Lola, and the other would more than likely lead him to the trap that the ghost was well-known to leave. Edward span round hopelessly, looking from one walkway to the next. All he needed was a sign, a flicker of light, a single sound or speck of dust to show him which way to go and he would leave in that direction immediately.

Then, he cast his gaze downwards. The floors were covered in a pale grey dust, but visible footprints were seen to have scuffed up the dirt in fron of the walkway to Edward's right. Without hesitation, he began to run once again, holding his torch high, towards the direction of the ghost's lair, and his prisoner, Lola.

The walls were getting closer together, he could tell. The portraits on the wall were still staring down at Edward, scorching his skin with a gaze to haunt the dead. He knew hell waited for him at the end of the corridor, but Edward still couldn't see the doorway to hell.

A doorway was facing him now. A wooden, dusty door stood at the end of the walkway, the only way to go. Edward gave a sigh of relief, but took another intake of breathe when he tried to open it. The door was locked, and the hinges were rusted to the wall, unmovable and unbreakable. With a cry of anguish, Edward began to bang upon the door, tearing the skin on his clenched fist in the battle. He ignored it, banging even more fiercely. Five minutes could have gone by, or even an hour, when Edward stopped his banging upon the door and decided to slump on the floor, his head against door. It was a struggle enough to keep himself from sobbing in the situation at hand, yet he restrained himself.


"I must think of something," he thought desperately to himself. "God knows what he must be doing to her." The thought crashed down onto Edward's head so hard that he shook slightly. Yet he knew also that he wouldn't open the door by lying down at hell's gates. With the pure will that not many men would give in his situation, Edward stood up, and thought hard of how to break the gate's walls. Looking down at his torch, an idea broke into his head. Without any second thoughts at all, he picked up the torch and pushed it to the door. Quicker than lightening, the wooden door started to surrender its power to the flickering flames. In a matter of seconds, Edward's plan had become reality as the door shattered into ashes, and the fire quickly burned away.

Another stairway welcomed Edward as he left the door's ashes. The stairs spiralled around a cylinder room. They led a long way down. Down and down they went, further and further until the light had faded out into nothingness. Of course, Edward never got as far as the pit of darkness, for it must have been impossible for the ghost to get that far. Torches hung on the walls of the staircase, the only signal that you weren't imagining the room. Yet Edward still couldn't believe it. He shamefully felt bored with the amount of stairs, with nothing to do apart from keep trotting down and down and down and down.

As if by awakening the fear by pure thought, Edward heard a rumbling sound from down in the dark hole. A swishing sound came, and soon after came a small dot visible only slightly down in the dark gaping hole. He picked up one of the torches from the wall and looked over the side of the stairs to see if he could find out what the substance below was. Edward couldn't tell, so leaned closer. The substance was still rising, but still he couldn't tell what it was. Then, the torch dropped from his hand. It fell in an almost slow-motion fashion, and Edward slowly realised what was rising from below. He heard the torch fizzle and saw some steam rise, and realised he was doomed. Very unconveniently, this young man who could not swim was faced with a rising river. Backing away from the edge of the forboding river, Edward heard a more disturbing sound than the whispers and moans of the water. A cruel, deep laugh was heard from above. A ghost's laugh. He looked up and saw two figures looking down at him. The ghost's face was visible clearly to Edward for the first time. It wasn't a haunted face, or even a common face. On the contrare, it was quite handsome. His build was muscular, his hair was a hazel brown, and his eyes were a hypnotic amber shade. Edward was too shocked for words, mainly at the fact that this ghost was no more than a man, but no words were needed.

"Well, hello there, my dear sir," cried out the ghost. "I suppose you have come here for the treasure that we both desire, but one shall have." Edward looked up to see the man clinging onto Lola. She was desperately trying to wriggle out of her capture's arms, but his grip was too tight. A swarm of fury over-took Edward at this sight.

"Give her back to me! She cannot live here, set her free!"

"Oh yes, you'd like that sir, wouldn't you." The man's face creased up into manic laughter, so manic it was unbefitting for a man of his looks. Edwrad could see that Lola's mouth was moving, as if to say something, but no sound was coming out. Her dress was rippid slightly, making Edward angrier than ever.

"What have you done to her?" he cried.

"Nothing, my dear sir. What did you think I would do? I may be considered mad, but even the most insane person can have a sense of decency when it comes to a woman." Conflicting his little speech, the man pulled Lola tighter towards him, holding her with both arms.

"Let her go!" Edward screamed this at the top of his voice to the man, but he merely sniggered.

"I shall treat her respectfully, sir, more so than you did. I may be the one to take a young woman from her domain, but you are the man who let her slip. Such a sad tale, but soon to be over. If you haven't noticed, a few minutes have gone by, and the water is still rising." Edward looked below at the dark hole, which was now completely filled with water. Steam was erupting from the river, obviously from the torches left below. The manic cackling rang through the room again, and Edward used his last ounce of strength to look up at him. The man was holding Lola tighter, flaunting his trophy in front of Edward in his last moments.

"I hope you enjoy your swim," he cried from above. "I hear you're a great swimmer!"

Edward could feel the cool water rushing up on his feet. Lola was still trapped in the arms of her kidnapper. He could hear her scream one last time before she was taken to a room in which Edward could not see. He struggled to think of a way out of this mess, and didn't relish the choices very much. The water had now risen to his waist, and he was slowly floating. As long as his feet could still touch some layer of ground, Edward could still feel safe. Edward thought for a moment, then realised that as long as he could stay calm, he could float to the level the man and Lola were watching down at him from. Edward panicked slightly when he started to float, but concentrted firmly on Lola's face, on the thought of feeling her lips one more time. Slowly, but surely, Edward approached the floor in which the man had mocked him from. He reached it within a minute, and crawled onto the platform. A large door, made of what looked like the same brick the wall was made of, was placed in the middle of the wall. This door, however, was unlocked, and easy to open. Edward entered the candle-lit room warily, yet strongly, knowing little Lola was waiting for his arms in there.

Edward heard a scream coming from the furthest point of the room. He could see the man and Lola standing together, the man standing slightly prouder than Lola. He heard the scream coming again, and saw that it was Lola that had screamed. Edward was smart enough to not make a sounf as he approached them, knowing that he probably wouldn't stand a chance against the man. He crept up behind the man, keeping a certain distance, making sure he was far enough to not be seen, but close enough to hear the conversation.

"You promised me he wouldn't get hurt!" cried Lola.

"And you promised me youwouldn't marry, but even I can notice a ring, my Lola."

"I am not your Lola! And it is not your choice whether I am to be married or not, and it is also not your choice to decide whether or not a man should be condemed to death." Edward heard a sharp slapping sound erupt, and another shriek from Lola. He found this too much, and lept into action. Running towards them, Edward grabbed a left-over torch holder and bashed the man over the head with it. The man froze for a short moment, then fell to the side. Lola could only stare at Edward, not knowing what to say. Edward could only stare at her back the, and did so. Neither could make a move, but both suddenly stared down at the man's body. It was strange to be set free for Lola, but it was even stranger for Edward to kill a ghost.


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