Disclaimer: I don't own Phantom of the Opera
Hey guys! ProtoChan here with another POTO fanfic! I've been having a little trouble figuring out what exactly to do with the next chapter of Tales of the Almost Isolated (which if you haven't read, please check it out!), and I recently came up with a new idea, so I figured I'd lay it on the table and see where it goes.
This story is ALW musical based. It takes place directly after Christine and Raoul get off of the gondola after escaping Erik's hideout in the final scene.
So without further adieu, let's begin!
Raoul stepped off the gondola, being cautious as to not cause the water of the lake to stir any more than necessary. After helping Christine do the same, he crept towards the nearest wall, his lover's hand held tightly by his own.
As Raoul's back hit the wall, he couldn't help but softly shudder. The wall was freezing to the touch, and it did nothing to warm him while he wore soaking wet clothing. The whole environment of the cellar itself was harsh, cold, and unwelcoming, but it did absolutely nothing to surprise the blonde.
The young couple edged towards the staircase out of the Phantom's lair, careful as to not be heard or seen by the angry mob rushing in the opposite direction.
Raoul had indeed heeded the Phantom's advice to not let Christine or himself be seen by the vengeful crowd approaching them, and he was glad that he listened. He had already been through enough life-threatening encounters for one evening and he would have preferred not to have to endure another. All he wanted to do now was get out of the Opera House as quickly as possible as to save Christine from having to listen to the horrors of the brutal slaughtering of her Angel of Music.
Raoul sighed as he thought of the Phantom's fate. In his heart, he had genuinely wanted to help the tragic man escape from the mob and would have even hid him at his estate. But alas, his rival had made his desires to be left alone and to focus on saving Christine very clear, leaving the Vicomte with no other alternative but to obey his commands for their departure. His first priority after all was to protect Christine, both physically and mentally at any costs, which unfortunately, included the Phantom's safety.
It was a shame really, Raoul thought. Christine and Madame Giry had introduced the Phantom to Raoul as nothing less than a genius with seemingly boundless potential. He was a musician, an illusionist, a brilliant strategist, as the night had easily proved, and probably much more. It was truly a pity that society could so easily dismiss such grand talents simply because of a disfigured face. As bitter as this truth was, Raoul knew that society was not going to change their placement on the situation any time soon. Even if the Phantom was to by some miracle, survive this disaster and escape with his life, he would be cursed to travel the world shunned and despised wherever he roamed and there was hardly anything, short of death, that he could about it. At this point, fulfilling the desperate man's dying wish was all that he could do.
Once the coast had become clear, Raoul and Christine rushed up the stairs. The once placid water of the lake was now tainted with the sounds of people rushing and swimming through it, all the while screaming cries of vengeance.
"We must track down this murderer!"
"For Joseph Buquet!"
"For Senor Piangi!"
Climbing the stairway had proved to be an arduous task. The staircase was very dimly lit, even in the light of the torch in Raoul's left hand. Running up the stairs with only, he had nearly tripped a few times, just barely being able to pull himself up with the strength of his legs before plummeting to the ground. And as much as he didn't want to think about it, the small sobs that came from his fiancée were echoing across the stairwell and slowly but surely wearing the Vicomte's patience away as he tried to focus on navigating through the dark stairway. However, he really couldn't hold her at a fault for this. After all, she had gone through a lot this evening as well, probably more so than he had, and he had to give her credit for concealing her sobs as best she could, covering her mouth with her free hand. So Raoul proceeded up the stairs, ignoring his lover's sobs as if they did nothing to bother him.
One thing that Raoul took notice of as the couple ascended up the stairwell was that Madame Giry was nowhere in sight. He sighed in relief at this realization, content with the knowledge that in the midst of all the chaos that had occurred over the course of the evening, Madame Giry was able to recover from her injury and climb back up the stairs to safety, or so he assumed as there was no trace of her voice in the mob that the blonde could make out.
The pair finally reached the top of the stairwell and continued to run through the hallway to the mirror passageway which led to Christine's dressing room. As they exited the young girl's dressing room and rushed towards the main doors of the Opera House, they saw that the Opera Hose was still very much intact. Apart from the now messy floors, littered with discarded programs, there were little to no signs of the Phantom's appearance at the Opera that evening. Though they were not able to see into the stage, they assumed that had roughly the same amount of damage done. Raoul blew out their torch and proceeded to throw it on to the ground, confident that it would not set fire to the place.
The two quickly moved out of the door of the Opera House and swiftly moved themselves to a nearby wall. The moon was full, leaving almost no place for the couple to hide as they exited the Opera House. Luckily, they found one spot in particular, which proved dark enough that the couple would not be noticed amidst the events that were taking place outside.
Police carriages had stationed themselves in the front of the Opera House. Officers walked around the outer perimeter of the Opera House, interviewing frightened onlookers of the spectacle that had taken place on stage and occasionally, jotting down one or two notes.
Christine and Raoul moved from their location to behind a nearby clothing store at the first opportunity, keeping an eye out for anyone who could possibly be watching them. At this point, both Christine and Raoul were both panting and gasping for breath. Raoul wanted to stop more than anything just to catch his breath for a moment, but he knew that he had to trudge on forward to the only safe place he knew he could go to: his home. Once they arrived at de Chagney manor, he could rest on the sofa in the den as they were warmed by the embers of the fireplace. There, Raoul could hold Christine in his arms and the two could comfort each other and move forward from this terrible evening together. But Raoul remembered that he was not home, safe in his den yet, and instantly pressed the two to continue progressing again.
The journey to de Chagney manor was not an easy one. Raoul and Christine had to travel the entire lengthy expedition consisting of several miles by foot, running from tree to tree for cover the whole time. The journey had been made in almost complete silence, apart from some words of reassurance from Raoul to press Christine further when she slowed down, but not one word had left Christine's mouth since they had taken off on the gondola. Raoul dismissed it as still recovering from everything that had happened this evening, which was true. He simply hoped that once they were home, he would be able to relax enough to make her speak. After much traveling, the couple finally approached the entrance of the estate.
Much to Raoul's confusion, right at the front of the doors of his family's estate, a police carriage, identical the ones outside of the Opera House this evening had situated himself there. Thinking cautiously while still very confused, Raoul hid behind the trees surrounding his estate as he skulked towards the entrance of his mansion, Christine's hand still held by his own.
As if the night hadn't proven to be mysterious enough, all of Raoul's servants were outside of the mansion. A policeman had been interviewing one of Raoul's butlers, while most of the others were talking together about things that Raoul couldn't quite make out.
Raoul frowned from confusion. All of Raoul's servants were outside of the estate, but his family members as he could tell were no where in sight. Had there been a fire? An accident? Worse? Could this have anything to do with the Phantom or what happened tonight at the Opera House?
Raoul was unsure of any of these answers, but he knew that until he understood exactly what was happening in his estate, the best thing to do was to hide himself and Christine. Just then, the police chief's gruff voice spoke above all of the others, silencing their conversations.
"All right then, I'm going to take this information down to the station. If you find out anything else, please tell me. Thank you for your cooperation this evening, and I'm terribly sorry for all that has happened to you good people tonight. I wish you the best of luck with the rest of your lives and I hope that you will all find employment again very soon." With that, he stepped onto his carriage and ushered his horse to the way out of the estate. As the policeman left the manor, the servants began talking again, their faces now full of worry.
The best of luck with the rest of your lives? Raoul thought as he and Christine were hidden on their knees behind a bush. What could he possibly mean by finding employment again soon? And where is my family? Raoul's eyebrow furrowed from sheer confusion. He simply didn't understand what was happening in de Chagney manor. Raoul wanted to ask one of the servants, but they were all talking in groups, making him feel very uncomfortable and unsure about that particular plan. Just then, he saw one maid who was alone amidst the crowds of servants. She was standing by herself, dressed in a traditional all white uniform seemingly in a trance of the whole situation as she stood, collecting her thoughts. The lady had short red hair and green eyes. Raoul knew her as Madame Mary Lousé. She was a widow, approximately fourty five years of age. Raoul thanked his blessings that it had been Mary standing by herself; she was Raoul's closest and most trusted maid, having taken care of him since he was a toddler. They had an informal relationship and Raoul had even referred to her by a first name basis.
"Mary." Raoul had loudly whispered. Almost instantly, Mary had turned around at the undistinguishable sound of her master's voice, being broken from her trance-like state. Raoul peaked his head above the bush, as to get the maid's attention.
"Monsieur!" Mary whispered in return as she rushed to the couple in the bushes. She was not afraid of garnering the attention of the other servants, as their thoughts were entirely focused on the situation at hand. "Thank goodness you are safe!"
"Mary," Raoul said, picking himself and Christine up from under the bush. "What in heaven's name is going on? Where is my family?"
"Oh Monsieur, it is terrible!" the maid started. "Your brother and father, the whole de Chagney family is in deep trouble!"
"What do you mean?" Raoul asked, raising his voice slightly, though not enough to get anyone's attention outside of the group of three.
"Your brother and father have been found guilty of a huge embezzlement scheme. The police came by this evening and arrested Philippe just two hours ago." Raoul could hardly believe his ears. Embezzlement? The arrest of his brother? He could barely understand it. His mouth had gone slightly agape. Mary went into greater detail about the crime his brother and father were being committed of, but Raoul had been in too much of a shock to pick up on exactly what she was saying. He stayed silent for as long as Mary was talking, taking in the news. Suddenly, as Mary finished speaking, a question had dawned upon Raoul.
"What of my parents? You said my father was involved with this as well."
"Your father and mother heard about the police coming just in time. They grabbed as much money as they could gather and made a run for it. I believe they said something about eloping to Switzerland on their way out of the mansion. They took off on their private carriage without a word to any of us. Philippe, on the other hand, was not as fortunate as he was resting in the garden at the time and didn't even notice your parents leaving the manor."
Raoul's eyes softened and his face saddened. He could hardly believe that his own parents would leave the city without even telling him what had happened and that his family was in danger. They made no effort to do anything to protect himself or Philippe. Suddenly, another problem dawned upon Raoul.
"Wait," Raoul stopped. "I understand that my brother and father are in trouble with the police, but why am I? I had nothing to do with the embezzlement?"
"The police said that they had found some documents with your signature on them, linking you to the crime." Raoul's eyes widened. He had never signed any documents such that had anything to do with embezzlement. He had always made sure to read every document he received thoroughly before signing it, a lesson that he learned, ironically enough, from his father and which was heavily reiterated countless times by his brother.
Just then, a horrible thought occurred to the blonde. He and Philippe did have very similar handwriting. Was it possible that he could have forged all of those signatures to accredit Raoul with the crime?
Raoul felt his head get light. This betrayal courtesy of his family was giving Raoul a headache. He wanted to scream. He wanted to groan or cry or be by himself. But he knew now was not the time.
"So what is to happen now?" Raoul inquired sadly.
"The city is forfeiting de Chagney manor and all of its possessions to pay back the money that your family owes. You, monsieur need to leave Paris immediately. Another police officer will be coming by the estate in the morning and all of the Parisian police force knows who you are. If they find you, they will put you in jail alongside your brother. I suggest that you go into the manor now, take all of your prized possessions and everything that you will need, and then get yourself and your fiancée out of the city as soon as you can."
Raoul paused for a moment, letting Mary's advice sink in. "I understand," the blonde said. He squeezed Christine's hand and pulled her towards the now abandoned mansion. "Come Christine, we haven't a moment to lose." Christine, however, remained motionless.
"Christine?" He asked, moving to face her. Christine was facing the ground, a look of guilt spread across her tear stained face.
"Christine." Raoul reiterated a darker and sadder tone now present in his voice. Raoul lost grip of Christine's hand as it fell back to her side.
"I am sorry Raoul," Christine said, her voice strained and weak, but not scared. "I cannot go with you."
"But Christine," the boy pleaded. "What about our love? Our engagement?"
"I can't be with you. Not now. Not after I've found my career, my voice, here in Paris, at the Opera House. I can't give it up now."
"Christine."
"I'm sorry Raoul. I will always care about you. I just can't do this." Raoul tried to sympathize with his lover's situation, but couldn't bring himself to do so. Raoul couldn't even bring himself to focus as Christine spoke. He could hear the occasional promise to keep Raoul's location a secret from the authorities "for as long as I live." As much as Raoul wanted to listen to what Christine had to say, all of her words just came out as the same thing: their relationship was over.
Once Christine finished talking, she gazed at Raoul, her face still ridden with guilt and sorrow. They stayed silent, knowing that they had nothing left to say to each other. Christine bent forward and kissed Raoul on the cheek. Raoul simply took the kiss. While he understood why she had given it to him, he could find no enjoyment in it whatsoever. Whereas all of Christine's kisses, whether they were on the lips or the cheek, had felt pleasant and sweet, this one felt bitter and unmemorable. Christine broke the kiss and returned her focus to the floor, giving Raoul the opportunity to kiss her back. After seeing that Raoul had no intention of returning her gesture though, Christine slowly began to turn around towards the outside of de Chagney manor, not looking back as she left Raoul and Mary standing there.
Raoul sighed, finding no other reaction to quite accurately express his current emotional state. In a matter of just a few minutes, everything that Raoul held dear to him was taken right out of his hands: his home, his family, his wealth, and now, his love. There were in fact, a lot of ways that the now former noble could let out his feelings, but he could not release them in such a way now, so, again, only the sigh came out. He then turned to the abandoned mansion and began skulking towards the front door, careful not to be seen by any of his former employees. He was wanted by the law now, and he did not want to test the loyalty of his now unemployed servants when there was no doubt a fairly large bounty on his head.
The inside of the mansion was dark, with only the glow of the moon to light the interior. Without the least bit of hesitance, Raoul ran up the grand marble staircase and turned down the left corridor towards his bedroom.
To say that Raoul's bedroom had been taken apart by the police would have been an understatement. To say that the police had destroyed Raoul's bedroom would have been a more accurate description of what had happened to the former Vicomte's lodging. All of the dressers and closets had been ripped open and clothes and other papers were scattered along the floor. There was hardly a clean spot on the floor or the bed at all. Even as a child, Raoul had never managed to make his room this messy.
Raoul cleared a spot on the floor by the side of his bed. He got on his knees and began moving his hands around the base of the bed, just hoping to feel a large, leather suitcase as his fingers caressed the lower surface.
Ah! There it was! Raoul's hands grabbed onto the suitcase and eagerly pulled it towards him. If Raoul had learned anything having to deal with finances from his family, it was to always keep a ready supply of cash hidden away in case of an emergency. Raoul's suitcase had held just that. He checked the suitcase to ensure that the money he deposited in the suitcase was still there. He was content to find out that indeed, every dollar that Raoul had placed in the suitcase had still remained there, occupying a good fourth of the space in Raoul's suitcase. The amount that Raoul had stowed away in the suitcase was quite large. While one could easily find it to be a fairly large fortune, Raoul knew that this alone was not enough to support a lifestyle off of. He knew that he could only live off of this until he found a job, wherever he went.
Raoul gulped and paused for a moment. A cloud of uncertainty which had been following him all the way through his "adventures" this evening had appeared once more, and the blonde found himself unable to ignore it this time. Where was he to go and how was he to support himself? He had skills of course, but not many that were too safe to divulge into and the rest could hardly be considered careers. Not only that, he would have to change his name if he was to keep a hidden identity.
Ah, the blonde screamed internally. I can't be thinking of this right now! Raoul stood up and began looking in his closet, where he had kept his birth certificates other important documents, excluding his passport, which was safely placed inside his suitcase. Drat, he cursed. They're all gone. The police had beaten him to retrieving his most precious document as all of them were no longer in the spot where he had concealed them.
Raoul massaged his forehead with his left hand. This night couldn't get any worse. Raoul felt a breeze and shivered. He then noticed that he had yet to change out of his wet, dirty clothes. Picking up some of the clothing spread across the bed, Raoul changed into a black suit with a dark blue shirt underneath and black trousers. To complete his dark outfit, Raoul covered himself with a long black cloak. He had picked up one more set of clothing and folded it neatly into the suitcase.
Having no other reason to remain in his room, apart from seeing his world literally destroyed before his eyes, Raoul grabbed his suitcase and prepared himself to depart from his room for the final time. He gave the room one last, sad glance. Never again could he sleep in his bed or look out at the snow covered forest through his window when he wanted to relax on a cold winter's day. He wondered, would his life too become like his room, abandoned and destroyed? Raoul just didn't know the answer.
Raoul ran back downstairs and dashed towards the den. He only needed one more thing before he was ready to leave, as to not overflow his suitcase with frivolous and useless items. As Raoul entered the den, he saw that his parents had truly cleaned the place out. Every bust, vase, and golden candlestick was gone without a trace. But Raoul wasn't looking for any of these items. Instead, he found the object of his quest right beside the fireplace. Right there, stood the violin of Monsieur Daaé. Raoul walked over to the instrument, cradling it in his arms. His parents had thought they had taken every thing of value, but they had never known the true value of a beautiful instrument such as this. What a pity, Raoul thought. The blonde hadn't a chance to play the instrument in years, and he was he was more than happy to have it safely tucked in his possession now. He felt a smile, the first smile he had been able to produce all evening creep upon his face. He gently placed the beloved violin and its accompanying bow in his suitcase.
As Raoul looked to exit the room, he gave it one more quick yet diligent investigation. He knew that there was a slim likelihood of him ever returning to this place again and he wished to make sure that he had all he wanted to carry with him. The former Vicomte peered over to the coffee table and walked towards it. A bowl had been on the table, holding many pieces of Raoul's favorite candy from ever since his childhood: taffy. In the bowl there were individually wrapped pieces of taffy in an assortment of all colors and flavors. Though Raoul did not know what came over him, he opened is suitcase and poured the entire contents of the bowl into it. He just dismissed it as wanting a last childhood memory to enjoy. He walked to the front door and looked at the interior of the house one last time.
Adieu my home, Raoul thought as he quietly exited the door.
As Raoul exited his home for the final time, he noticed that all of the servants had disappeared, probably looking for an inn or other lodging to go to until they find employment again. He looked around for the slightest sign that Mary was still there, but she had seemingly left with of them. Just then, a soft female voice spoke up.
"Monsieur," Mary asked, touching his shoulder from behind him.
"Mary!" Raoul gasped. "I had thought that you had left with the rest of the servants." The absence of Raoul's other servants made the need control the volume of their voices non existent.
"I decided to wait and see you off on your new journey. Let's just say that it completes the cycle. I've raised you since you were a toddler and now I'm watching you as you go off into the world on your own," she replied, smirking at him.
"Thank you," Raoul said, earnestly meaning it. "Mary," Raoul continued. "You must know that those signatures on those documents were fake. I never signed them."
"I know Monsieur," the maid replied with a nod. Mary knew very well that there was never a question as to the credibility of Raoul's honor. "I know you are as good as gold. I only wish that I was on of the gendarme and tell them that myself."
"I wish you were as well," the blonde groaned. "I'm so confused with what I'm going to do or where my life is heading."
Mary placed her hand back on Raoul's shoulder. "Don't worry. You'll get back on your feet. I know you will. You will start a new life, make some new friends, and you will be happy."
"I don't know if I can ever be happy without Christine."
"You would be surprised Raoul. You can find happiness in strange places. I never expected to have a happy life serving as a maid, but I've had so many wonderful times with you and the rest of your family."
The thought of Raoul's family made him sick. "So my parents didn't send for me at all?" Raoul asked sadly.
"No, they did not." Raoul sighed again, a habit which had been noticably developing throughout the evening. "Where will you go?"
"I have a place to stay with my husband's sister," Mary stated in a matter-of-fact manner. "Perhaps she will help me find work."
Raoul couldn't help but feel humbled by his friend's bravery in the face of such a grave situation. "I feel so awful about how this turned out. You and all the other servants have served my family loyally for years, and we repay you in this shameful way."
"It's not your fault, Raoul," the maid argued.
"I suppose you're right. So, where should I go now?" Raoul asked.
"You will need to leave France," the maid plainly stated. "But I believe you should go further. The gendarme might follow any leads on de Chagneys still in Europe. You might want to consider taking a ship and going out west to America. I hear it is called the land of new beginnings. They have ships in Calais which I know depart for America weekly."
Raoul nodded at Mary's suggestion, not having any other plan for the while. He looked back towards his estate and then back to her. "I suppose this is where we say goodbye."
"I will miss you Raoul." Mary said, pulling Raoul into a hug. He was very fortunate to have such a caring, loyal friend such as Mary. As they broke from the hug, Raoul kissed the maid's hand, being the gentleman that he was. "Now run along now," she commanded.
Raoul nodded and slowly crept back into the trees. He began walking towards the outskirts of de Chagney manor.
"Raoul remember," Mary called out as he neared the border of the estate. "You can find happiness in strange places." Raoul looked back to her to show that he had heard her advice. He promised to himself that he would try to find happiness in his new life, for her sake if for no one else's.
With that, Raoul turned and left de Chagney manor forever, with only his suitcase, the clothes on his back, and Mary's advice following him.
Raoul sighed, barely noticing it. Off to America, and the land of new beginnings.
Erik was surrounded by darkness. Pitch black darkness.
It was nothing that he had not grown accustomed to over the course of his lifetime though. To him, pure darkness was as natural to him as light was to most everyone else so no, being encompassed in darkness was not something which bothered him in the least.
He stood silently in a private stairwell unmasked, merely listening as an angry mob proceeded to rip his home apart piece by piece without making so much as a movement.
It was not due to a fear on his part though of being heard that he took no action on the mob. His location, though just a door through one of the now broken mirrors of his lair was camouflaged well enough that no one would look at it as anything more than a mere wall. His hiding spot had been securely fastened and cut off from the mob, and the other entrance was locked from the outside and could only be unlocked a key that only he and Madame Giry possessed copies of. Needless to say, he was safe enough from any harm that the mob may have wished to instill on him.
If he wanted to, he could have yelled at the mob from the safe confines of his hiding spot and scared them out of his home at any time with nothing that they could have done. They did not know where he was, and with his abilities in ventriloquism, he could have made sure that his voice was spread out in a way that they couldn't have found him. For the infamous Phantom of the Opera, that was an easy enough task.
But no. He simply listened as the mob did what they did throughout his abode.
He listened as they came.
He listened as they ripped apart his lair.
He listened as they left, apparently disappointed with their findings, or lack thereof.
And he listened long after that.
And as he stood there listening, he thought of Christine.
Ah, his beautiful Christine. The goddess who caused him so much joy and yet so many tears was now gone forever.
Erik sighed. For years, Christine had been his muse, his prodigy, the very reason that he found himself able to survive the day, and all the harsh prejudices and rumors that came with it. She had become the very reason he lived. She was his Angel, just as he had been hers through their shared past.
And now his Angel was gone, and to say that Erik was heartbroken was the understatement of the century.
On his face, Erik could still feel some of the residue of the large amounts of tears that he had shed for her on this night alone. He knew in his heart that allowing her to leave with the boy had truly been the best thing he could offer her, yet he could not help but weep as she left him, returning the wedding ring he had given her. He had done so much to help her over the ears, whether it be improving her unearthly beautiful voice in their vocal lessons or comforting her or giving her advice as she needed it. And now, other than allowing her to pursue her relationship with the Vicomte, there was nothing else he could do for her. As he stood there in the darkness of the stairwell, his thoughts continuously drifted back to Christine.
It was not until nearly an hour after the mob left that Erik heard the sound of footsteps descending the stairwell towards him. At the light of the torch accompanying the approaching footsteps, the Phantom could not help but flinch. After all, who wouldn't at least flinch while under the pursuit of an angry mob?
However, the flinch disappeared off of Erik just as soon as it came upon seeing the slender figure of Madame Giry slowly walking down the stairs. Her eyes took notice of the disfigured man and with no hesitation, she walked further down until finally reaching him. She placed the torch in her hand in the torch place holder beside Erik.
"I'm glad to see that you are safe," Madame Giry started. She offered Erik a smile, which he took, but did not return.
"How did you know what happened?" Erik asked with genuine confusion. While she wasn't the last person he anticipated seeing this evening after the night's events, he had not foreseen that Madame Giry would have come down here, knowing that he would be in this spot. Furthermore, he doubted that the ballet mistress would have been able to climb down the stairs, especially considering that she was unable to fully accompany the Vicomte down to his lair.
"After leaving the Vicomte on the stairwell, I went back to the orchestra pit to get something important, and I heard the sounds of a couple's feet rushing through the Opera House." Erik stayed silent upon hearing this. "You did the right thing by letting her go. She will be forever grateful for it."
Erik sighed. "You always knew how to make me feel better, Madame," he breathed. Though Madame Giry had not done anything that necessarily made him feel better, the last thing he wanted to do was to upset the one person who had visited him in the midst of his misery. "But correct me if I am mistaken, but did you not take an injury while descending the stairs with the Vicomte?"
"It turned out to only be a mere cramp. I felt fine soon after. I would have continued down the stairs, but I heard the mob approaching, so I went upstairs to hide."
"The mob," Erik sighed. "I wonder how much damage they did. All the years of construction, all of my music. I'm sure by now, even my Don Juan Triumphant has probably been destroyed by those idiots as well."
"I would not be so quick to assume that," Madame Giry said, smirking. She turned towards her right hip, and as Erik turned to see what she was doing, he saw a satchel hanging around the ballet mistress' left shoulder.
Before he knew it, Madame Giry pulled out a large black, leather bound book from the satchel.
Could it be, Erik wondered as he looked at the dark book. But as the torch brought the book's title to light, all speculation that Erik had was brought to an end.
It was! Madame Giry was holding Don Juan Triumphant right in her hands!
"I told you that I went to get something important from the orchestral pit," Madame Giry reminded him, still smirking.
Erik marveled at his creation. There, safe and sound, Don Juan Triumphant stood in Madame Giry hands. He looked at the black leather and the shiny gold letters which spelled out the name of his masterpiece. He could even smell the slightest tints of the fresh leather and the antique pages that it was written on. This work had truly been his greatest. He thought of everything that had been made from this one piece. All of the hours that he had put into every note and accompanying word. All of the sleepless nights spent writing out the story.
All of the pain that it caused him.
All of the pain that it caused others.
All the pain that it caused Christine.
Erik frowned. "Burn it."
"I refuse," Madame Giry declined. "This is your life's work, and possibly one of the greatest works of music to ever exist. It is your work, so I shall let you do what you wish with it, but I will not be responsible for the destruction of a masterpiece." With that, she placed the book onto Erik's palms.
They stayed silent for a moment, allowing a moment for all that had happened this evening to sink in. When they were finally done, it was Madame Giry who broke the silence.
"Where will you go now," the ballet mistress asked.
"I don't think I need to tell you that I will need to leave Paris. At the same time, Europe grows evermore dangerous the longer I stay due to many of my past endeavors across the continent," he started, placing an emphasis on "endeavors." "I believe I might try my luck in America. Over the years, I've heard tales of America, a land of promise. A place where even freaks like me have a chance of success. Some in fact call one particular place in America, Coney Island the home of the freaks."
Before Madame Giry could respond to Erik's plan, the two heard a knock from the bottom of the stairwell, not far from where they were positioned. Quickly, the two descended to identify the source of the sound. They were nearly ready to dismiss the sound as merely another member of the mob who was still searching the lair, the voice of the mysterious knocker suddenly spoke up.
"Erik! Erik!" the voice, who the pair could very easily identify as female called from the other side of the door that Erik had locked to secure his hideout from the mob. Both Erik and Madame Giry smiled, knowing that Erik would not be in danger.
Who, after all, could ever be afraid or threatened by Meg Giry?
Erik opened the door which separated the two. Before he could even take a look at the damage done to his home, Meg jumped on him, pulling him into a hug and nearly making the ghost fall in the process. After getting over the startling nature of the hug's origin, Erik smiled and happily returned the embrace, all the while holding his precious Don Juan in his left hand. Standing about two feet from the two of them, Madame Giry simply smiled at her daughter and surrogate son hugging.
"Oh Erik," Meg said, pulling away from the hug, "I'm so happy you're okay. I was so worried something happened to you."
"Don't worry Meg," Erik reassured. "As you can tell, I'm quite alive and well." Erik quickly added, "In a physical sense at least."
Meg placed her hand on the ghost's shoulder. "You'll get through this Erik. I know you will."
What a sweet girl you are Meg Giry, Erik thought. "Thank you Meg. If you'll excuse me, I need to see what I can salvage from the mob's destruction and pack a suitcase."
"Where are you going to go now, Erik?" the young ballet dancer inquired, not yet informed of the ghost's plans.
"I am leaving for Calais and catching a ship that leaves for America."
"Oh," Meg simply stated, a wave of melancholy audible in her voice.
"Is something the matter Meg?" Erik asked, noticing the downhearted state of his friend.
"I'm going to miss you. You're like family to mother and me. And also," Meg added with a smirk, "the Opera House is going to be so boring without occasional visits from "the Phantom of the Opera.""
"I'm sure it will be, but you and the other girls will be able to focus on your ballet instead of gossiping" Erik teased as Meg jokingly pouted in return.
Erik then stepped out of the broken mirror and into his destroyed lair. As he entered the lair, he saw self implanted shards of glass spread out across the floor. He swiftly moved to the other side of the room, careful to not step on a piece of broken glass.
He went to his organ, where he had hidden beside it a large suitcase. Inside the empty suitcase he placed Don Juan Triumphant along with some of his other works of music. Erik then took the suitcase to his bedroom where he located his passport and birth certificate on a desk he reserved for work. He then turned his attention towards his closet where he proceeded to take a couple of pairs of clothing including extra masks and placed them into his suitcase. Erik made sure that left enough extra space in his suitcase which would be needed for holding money. He had planned on emptying his funds the next morning once he got to the bank. After packing all that he felt he needed, he locked his suitcase and prepared to depart from his room.
Just before leaving his room though, Erik caught a glimpse of himself. Upon seeing what he was currently wearing, the ghost frowned and turned back towards his closet. Within moments, Erik was changed out of his Don Juan costume and into a white shirt, black trousers, and a black cloak.
After finishing packing, Erik returned to room of broken mirrors where he found Madame Giry and Meg, who were patiently waiting for him to finish.
"Thank you for waiting ladies," Erik said, slightly apologetically.
"It was no trouble Erik," Madame Giry replied. "Now come, while we still have time we need to sneak you out of here." Erik nodded and the three of them started walking up the stairs until something dawned upon Meg.
"Wait, Erik," she stopped. Erik turned back slowly. Meg walked out of the mirror for a moment before coming back with a familiar piece of porcelain in her hand. "I forgot to give this to you before. But I thought you might need it," she said, offering the half mask to the disfigured man before her. "That is, if you want it."
Erik had almost forgotten that he had not been wearing his usual white half mask. It's not everyday that he has been able to keep it off for so long without running a risk to his safety. What always took Erik by surprise though was how tolerable his surrogate family had been when it came to his mask. They would hug him and eat with him while he had his mask off, all without so much as flinching at his gruesome appearance. Even from the beginning of their relationships, Meg and Madame Giry had shown very little fear or disgust upon gazing at his face, only occasionally widening their eyes as they saw the spoiled skin.
"Thank you Meg," Erik said as he graciously took the mask and placed it on his face. "I have a feeling that even in the land of the freaks, I will need this." With that, the trio ascended up the stairwell. Though Meg was confused for a moment as to what Erik meant by "the land of the freaks," she reasoned with herself that Erik was referring to America. Upon reaching the top of the stairs, Erik peeked outside of the door. The door opened up to reveal the outskirts of Paris. By now, the police carriages had finished their interviews and began preparing to leave for the night.
Erik closed the door and looked back at the ladies in front of them. "It looks like the coast is almost clear. The police should be gone in a few minutes. After that, I'll be taking my leave."
"We're going to miss you Erik," Meg said. "You've always been like a big brother to me."
"And you've been like a sister to me, Meg," Erik responded. Erik turned to Madame Giry. "Madame Giry," Erik started. "You've been one of the dearest friends I've ever had the pleasure of knowing and you've been more of a mother to me than my own. If you ever need anything, know that I will always be there for you. You and Meg have been the best family I've ever known, and I want you to know that I am eternally in your debt."
Meg jumped at Erik and gave him another hug, though this time he was prepared for it, so he was able to fully maintain his balance as the ballerina nearly pounced on him. Madame Giry slowly joined in the hug as well, her eyes nearly tearing up at the thought of her surrogate son leaving her.
"Make sure you write," Meg reminded Erik as the three of them pulled from the hug.
"As soon as I have an address in America, I will write to you immediately," Erik assured the young ballet star.
Giving one more look out the door to assure that he could leave unnoticed, Erik took off, suitcase in hand for his new life. The fresh wounds that Christine had bestowed upon his heart still hurt, and Erik began to wonder just how he would be able to move on with his life without her presence. Christine had been the only reason that he had found himself able to get out of bed some days, and now, she only existed to him as a memory. He could only ask himself what was worth living for now that he did not have her Angel. But Erik knew that he would need to fight his heartbreak and push himself forward, trying to find the strength to live, as impossible as such an undertaking seemed to be.
So there you have it guys! Change is in the Wind Chapter 1!
So give me your thoughts and review, review, review!
So, Raoul and Erik wave goodbye to their lives, but is it truly goodbye forever for some of them? You'll have to keep reading now won't ya!
Forgive me for some of the poetic license I took, like giving Raoul a suitcase which could fit a violin.
I tried to give Erik and Meg a brother/sister relationship.
I'm sorry if anyone was expecting some instant E/R interactions, but I promise, they will meet in the next chapter!
How? Where? You'll see!
Also, a little bit of a heads up, the next few chapters probably won't be as long as this one, mainly because it's being told from two separate perspectives. I want to do a lot of different things with this story, so I might experiment with some fun, new ideas.
Please read and review and I'll see you all next time! (Why does that last line remind me of the Phantom Reviewer? XD)