A rant in story form.
I do not own The Phantom of the Opera, nor any other characters in the story below.
Nov. '08: Hm. This chapter ran away for a while, but it's back now!
There is a world connected to ours. It lies directly beside our world, connected only by a small amount of the same sky. This world is generally invisible to us, but every once in a while someone catches a glimpse into it. Inspired, that person soon creates something that reflects what they had seen.
These seers are what we call writers.
Every story we love, every favorite movie, every song that has moved us, has been written about events or people that occurred in this other world.
And in this other world there is a palace. This palace is larger then any we have on earth. Four, five times larger. And inside this beautiful palace live those whose stories have become so famous on earth that their fame have spread across the other - the fictional –world.
Inside the palace live the likes of Dracula, who lived in the oldest tower; Elizabeth Darcy and her husband owned a room overlooking the lake; Frodo Baggins had the largest hobbit hole in the world out by the garden; and Marius and Cosette spent most of their time strolling through the afore-mentioned garden, staring at each other lovingly.
Even the designer of the wondrous palace lived there, though he stayed mainly in the basement. It had taken the designer many years to design the place, but due to the magic in the literary world (a magic that was begun by Merlin), it had only taken a week to build. There were thousands of rooms above ground and thousands of rooms below. There were cellars for wine (which was a favorite drink among the residents – except for Dracula, of course), four theaters, one Opera, two bell towers, eighteen nurseries, nine kitchens, eight ballrooms…so many rooms that a full list would fill a book as long as War and Peace.
A favorite room of the residents of the palace was the library – or rather, libraries. Some of the libraries belonged to other residents (one particularly large one belonged to Belle and her Prince), but there were four or five that everyone was allowed to use.
Inside of one of those libraries was a great fireplace, and at the table in front of the fireplace sat a man, leaning over the table which was full of books that were titled The Phantom of the Opera, or having to do with that subject. This man was so drawn in by his studying that he did not notice someone moving through the shadows of the unusually dark library.
"They love you, you know," the voice from the shadows spoke.
The man was startled, and his eyes searched through the shadows. He relaxed when he saw who had been speaking.
"Who do you mean?" he asked the figure.
The figure in the shadows pointed to a mirror that rested on a wall beside the great fireplace.
This was no ordinary mirror…none of the mirrors in the palace were. The wizard who had created them had made them to not only be able to reflect, but also to be able to show our world to those who lived in the fictional one. All someone had to do to spy on us was to walk to the mirror and name the person – or the type of person, such as 'A fan of Harry Potter' – and the mirror would show the asker whoever it was they wanted to see.
Currently the mirror was showing a girl with short blonde hair and dark green eyes, clinging excitedly to a full color program of a musical. She was chattering with a friend that stood beside her as they waited in a line to enter a theater.
"Ah," said the man at the table. He turned away from the figure and looked back to the books.
"They love you because you are so handsome," you could hear the frown in the voice from the shadows. "And so loving and kind and passionate."
"And they hate you," the man at the table laughed. "I do not understand why they do. Why should they despise someone such as you?"
"Is that why you are here?" the voice in the shadows asked.
The man nodded. "I want to see what they see."
The figure slowly emerged from the shadows and took a seat at the table beside the first man. "I do not think that is possible."
"Neither do I," admitted the man. "However…I want to try."
The figure picked up the nearest book and flipped through it. A moment later something caught his eye, and he paused to read it. After fully examining the page, he tossed the book down in disgust. "Monsieur Phantom?"
The first man looked up. "Yes, Vicomte?"
"What is it you think you will find?"
The Phantom gave a graceful shrug. "Something that will explain the insanity of the people in that world."
"Insanity?"
"Yes," the Phantom sighed, exasperated. "Why else would they hate the obvious hero so? Why would they want the handsome, sweet, self-sacrificing young man to die a terrible death? Why would they call a man who defied his family and duty for love, who risked his life for a stage girl, who gave up everything he had and could ever be for a girl who most thought mad, who joined the Navy to explore the world…why would they call him a fop? They must be insane."
"Perhaps they simply do not know what the word means…" the young man suggested.
"Bah! You try to see the good in everything," the Phantom scowled, and turned back to his studies.
The young man looked back to the books stacked on the table, but he was afraid to look at another one. What else were people writing about him?
"Monsieur Phantom?"
The Phantom sighed again. "Yes, Vicomte de Chagny?"
"I do not mean to offend…however…" Raoul hesitated, and then spoke. "Why do they love you?"
Behind the mask, the Phantom smirked.
"I told you, they are insane." The Phantom looked up from his book. "They think I am handsome, though the point of my story is that I am not. They think I am not as mad as I seem – hah! – and that I am the world's perfect lover."
The Phantom began to laugh, which unnerved Raoul. It was the same sort of laugh he used while the Persian and Raoul had been trapped in the torture chamber, and Erik had dragged Christine away from them.
"Obviously they ignore my temper!" The Phantom snickered. "Somehow I doubt a perfect lover would threaten to kill his love if she did not agree to stay with him until the day she died."
Raoul nodded, now uncomfortable. He preferred to not remember the past, especially when he was alone in a room with the man who had tried to kill him.
He decided that pretending to read one of the books would be better then continuing the conversation, so he picked up the book he had previously thrown aside. However, once the Phantom began to rant, there was no stopping him until he had run out of steam.
"They adore me and they hate you! They blame you for my unhappiness – as if you had that power!" the Phantom continued, his voice rising in anger. "As though it were your fault I was born a corpse! As though it were your fault I grew mad and decided to live my life under the opera house! You even showed concern for me, when Christine and you were playing at being engaged. Oh! And as though it were your fault Christine is so wonderful! You could not help but love her."
"And I loved her since we were children…" Raoul interjected, and then shut his mouth quickly. He did not want to tempt the Phantom while he was in a temper. However, the Phantom didn't seem to mind Raoul adding on.
"Exactly! You knew her before I did, even…How could it be your fault she loved you?" the Phantom stopped suddenly, reflecting. "Well, actually, it is your fault…you couldn't just stay away, could you? You had to keep pursuing – but that is beside the point! You were in love with her; of course you couldn't give up on her."
Raoul just nodded and tried to find the nearest exit.
"As if they had the right to hate you for me! If I blamed you, I would hate you myself! Why would they think I would want them to hate you for me?"
"They think you do not exist…" Raoul muttered, forming a quick escape plan in his mind.
Erik heard him. "Still!"
"I think I ought to go-"
"Is not the moral of my story to look past appearances? To accept people as they are?" Erik continued as though he had not heard Raoul. "They claim to understand the story, but they are fools! They hate the hero and love the villain! They do not accept, they despise."
Raoul stood. "I really should be going…"
"And they love me! They think they do, at any rate. They should feel pity for me, sympathy…not this love. If it were true love – but it is not! They do not know me! They cannot love me! They are fools! I loathe the lot of them. If I could have them all put into the torture chamber to burn, I would!"
"I really must-"
Erik took in a deep breath and fumed. "Erik will not stand for it any longer! He is not the gentle man they think he is, and they will soon see! Erik will show them! He will show them all! Erik will not stand those fools any longer!" He slammed his fist against the table, shaking a large pile of the books which then fell to the ground.
Oh, no, Raoul thought. The Phantom was speaking in third person now…that was a sign to protect yourself – and quickly. Raoul held up the heavy book he had been pretending to read between himself and the Phantom, and looked at the closest door – would he make it out in time?
But the Phantom had ended his rant abruptly, and he was looking up at Raoul. Raoul was frozen in place, staring silently back at the Phantom. They regarded each other in silence.
"…Why are you standing? And why are you holding a book like a shield?" the Phantom suddenly asked.
"I…" Raoul was at a loss for words. He slowly sat down again and put the book aside. "No reason."
The Phantom cocked his head curiously. "Sometimes I wonder if you are losing your mind, Vicomte."
Raoul gave his old rival a weak smile, and now admired Christine much more for braving two weeks alone with this madman.
"So…" Raoul began shakingly. "If they are insane, why are you looking for an answer in these books?"
"Some of these books have brainwashed them," the Phantom answered. "Also, they have some very interesting information in them. Did you know that you are an abusive drunk who would rather spend your time with a prostitute then Christine?"
Raoul's eyes widened in shock, and his cheeks flushed with anger and embarrassment at the idea that he would go to a lady of the night. "What?! I would never - ! After fighting for her so much and risking my life to be with her for even a short while – where would they get such an idea?"
"I told you – fangirls are insane!"
RubyMoon's Secret Place
RubyMoon: Well, here's the first of what is sure to become a number of story-style rants. I hope you…er, enjoyed it.