"I am not going anywhere!" Erik declared angrily.
"My friend, life goes on," Death tried to persuade him, "You have spent your entire life in this… underground… place. It is time for you to move on."
"I am not going anywhere!" Erik insisted
"He cannot be happy or satisfied anywhere." Death muttered to himself as he shook his head.
"Exactly." Erik apparently heard what he whispered, "So my dungeon is as better as anywhere else."
"You might say so now, but after careful consideration, perhaps…"
"I am not going anywhere! Give me a drink, will you?"
Death handed it over, he thought it is best to grant this unfortunate fellow his last wish, no demand, on earth: "What should we drink to, my friend? Your matchless gift for melodrama?"
"To my darling Christine, and her charming, or rather, once charming Viscount de Chagny, who was once so…"
"Point taken, Erik." Death interrupted him, "Which brought us back to our original subject. Do you still love Christine?"
"Of course I do, I…"
"If you still love her," Death continued, ignoring his completely, "My position for you is perfect. Come to heaven, dear fellow. I promise you will not be disappointed. Trust me."
Before Erik can even open his mouth to reply, death grabbed his arm and the world around his became a blur. Erik knew that was the last moment he had on earth.
Quiet suddenly, Erik found himself facing the Heavenly front desk, and death is nowhere to be seen. 'Never trust a creature like that.' He groaned at the thought of it.
As he looked around angrily, he noticed the angel on duty glanced at his and didn't scream. He peered at the perfectly still pound and nearly screamed himself: Heaven changed his completely. He is no longer the frightening Phantom, but an… angel, with curly blonde hair and white, puffy wings.
"I… I believe I have an… appointment." He muttered nervously. The front desk angel looked at his again. He could not help but flush.
She smiled and adjusted her glasses: "Just relax. May I inquire your name, former residence and former occupation?"
"Erik… Paris Opera House, No, the dungeons of the Opera House, Occupation… the Phantom of the Opera." He knew that sounded absurd, even for an angel.
Surprisingly, she simply went through a few documents and found the correct one: "Go to the twentieth purple corridor on the right. Some one should be expecting you."
Erik muttered his thanks and slowly wandered to the place. He felt even more uneasy now. Who could possibly be expecting him? Perhaps another low ranked angel, they won't possibly waste anyone higher on him, unless… Erik shuddered at the thought of it: 'They most probably realized it was a mistake, and will send me to Hell, where I belong.'
When he finally arrived, He looked at the magnificent door and simply stared in wonder. Too nervous to simply open and get in, he knocked.
"Come in!" A voice muted by the massive door called immediately. No wiser who was waiting for him, he pushed open the wooden door beautifully engraved and ornamented with gold.
Against all expectations, this room was not overly large. It is a comfortable circular chamber again decorated with purple and gold. Surrounded by massive bookshelves, musical instruments and suitable paintings was a large desk with teapots and five chairs, one of them already occupied.
The tall angel with red hair stood to greet him. He is dressed in simple green robes matching perfectly with his eyes. "Welcome, Erik." He smiled pleasantly. "My name is Raphael. Perhaps you have heard of me?"
Erik was stunned. Of course he was familiar with the name, the angel of healing. He cannot believe this: 'they sent me an archangel."
"Come on, don't just stand there." The archangel pointed at the chair and poured some tea, "I'm afraid the others are a bit delayed, don't worry, they always show up eventually. Have some tea, which can help you relax, hopefully."
"Um… Thank you." Erik muttered, "Sir."
"Don't call me 'Sir'." Raphael frowned, "I'm not Michael. How long are they going to take?"
"They? You cannot mean…"
"The other archangels, of course!" Raphael said brightly, ignoring Erik's shock: "Gabriel is probably busy with something. Michael is always late. Uriel… possibly has simply forgotten about it. She always show up at the end, though, so no worries."
Erik's shock was suddenly interrupted by the bang of the door, and someone marched in. He was even taller and stronger than Raphael, with short,messy blonde hair and dressed in full armor. Erik stared open-mouthed as Michael grinned apologetically.
"So sorry, so sorry." He wiped the sweat from his forehead, "Got carried away in training. Have I missed anything?"
"No, not yet." Raphael handed him a cup of tea, "Do you by any chance know where they are?" he pointed at the empty chairs.
"Nope. However, fellow." He pointed at Erik, "You must be careful not to forget to greet Gabriel."
"Oh, I'm so sorry." Erik suddenly remembered Raphael's comment, and quickly added: "Sir."
Michael waved his handed carelessly: "Not to worry. Uriel probably won't care anyway, but beware of Gabriel, who is very picky about the proper form of greeting. He has been in a very irritable mood lately."
Erik was too scared to ask why, but Raphael added: "Well, you see, Uriel and Gabriel had some kind of disagreement over… a scientific, or rather biological issue. As you might have guessed, Gabriel was proved wrong and had to suffer the consequences. You will know when you…"
"See it?" a third angel marched in and finished Raphael's sentence. Erik watched speechlessly as the brunette archangel dressed in perfect blue collapse in an empty chair.
"Late due to impressive work load." Gabriel glanced around, "Apparently I am not the last one here."
"Oh, come on." Michael replied lazily, "I am sure Uriel Has a good enough reason for being late.
Gabriel was not at all impressed: "Sure. She always does."
"Don't be like that." Raphael shook his head
Not until now has Erik sensed something was different about Gabriel, or rather…
"Morning everybody!" a more high-pitched voice exclaimed brightly, "Aha, Gabriella!" Uriel has long black curls and deep blue eyes that twinkled happily, clear contrast to Gabriel's hostile attitude. She is dressed in gold and purple, so Erik can assume he was in one of her chambers.
"I am so sorry!" She shouted, actually meaning it, "Late due to extreme work load. I am so sorry indeed."
"Ha," Gabriel snorted, "As always."
"What! You don't believe me!" The angel of the arts sounded hurt, "I can show you!" she started singing in a perfect soprano voice, and was soon joined by many well-organized choirs. Even to Erik, it was very impressive, with pleasant melodies crossing each other, complicated yet beautifully arranged harmonies all fitted perfectly.
"Was arranging another praise for the Lord." She grinned at the stunned audience.
"Knowing you. You could have easily made that up as you go." Gabriel was clearly unimpressed.
"Oh, thank you so much for admitting my talents, my dear." Uriel sounded cheerful, "However, this was indeed the little piece that kept me from being on time."
"Let's start with business." Raphael wanted to change the subject, "Erik. Do you know why you are here?"
Erik can feel himself shaking slightly: "Well, not really. Death only said I have some kind of opportunity…"
"And he is absolutely right." Michael smiled, "Uriel, do you have it?"
"Yes, commander!" she replied in a crispy voice and began to search for something inside her sleeve, " I'm sure it's somewhere here… Oh yes." She grinned and drew something Erik was sure wasn't there a moment ago.
"Ah, Fate." Uriel shook her head as she unrolled the scroll. Erik panicked as he realized how long it was. "Don't worry about all this nonsense," she continued, ignoring the glare Gabriel sent, "To the archangels, blah, blah, blah. From your loyal fellow angel, occupation: Fate, Department whatever, etc, etc, you know all that. Concerning a certain mortal Erik." She stopped and looked at Erik straight in the eyes: "I strongly suggest that… and a whole lot of babble. To simplify all that, is like what Death said, we felt that you have been treated unfairly on earth, so will offer you a position in Heaven."
"Yes?" Erik asked, half nervous, half surprised, He thought he might end up in Hell, but apparently he is getting a comfortable job in Heaven instead.
"Your situation, if handled unsuitably, might lead to great consequences so it requires our immediate attention." Gabriel said in a diplomatic voice.
"What?"
"As you might understand," Uriel said carelessly, "We are trying to be fair. However, we do have a little problem about your placement."
"Oh." Now he felt mournful. He might not be able to somehow stay with Christine, after all.
"Your style of delivering messages," Gabriel said first, "is far more likely to cause the recipient to panic, misunderstand, freak out or not believe you an angel of the Lord than actually get the message through."
Erik nodded. He does not have the patience to remember scripts properly, and he often offend people without meaning so. Being diplomatic isn't one of his talents, and he will hate to work under someone like Gabriel.
"And, no matter how enthusiastic it might be, your sword fighting skills are extremely limited." Michael concluded. " Hell will rejoice when I admit you into the Heavenly Force."
Erik nodded and remembered the disastrous duel with Raoul. So he can't fight, either.
"Your healing skills are also… inexistence." Raphael said sadly.
Erik now hangs his head. Is he so useless, after all?
"However," Michael said brightly, "We have come up with a solution. Uriel, if you please?"
"But of course." The angel of the arts said brightly, " I have been keeping an eye on you for a while, out of pure curiosity. I have been considering over an idea that I would like to fulfill, and now comes the opportunity."
Erik stared blankly. What could she mean?
"Now you are officially an angel, you can truly become what you pretended."
Not daring to hope, Erik simply stared at her. Could this be…
"What do you say, Erik? Do you want to work under me as the Angel of Music?"
For a moment, he couldn't say anything. Finally, he managed to get out, "I would like that very much."
"Don't agree yet," Uriel warned him. "If you do accept the task, you will also have to follow the all the new musical development. You will have to analyze them and write long, ridiculously long, tedious reports on the current trends in human music that I may or may not read personally. This is all really just because I don't want to waste too much of my own time on music, as you saw just now. I'd rather prefer visual arts and literature."
"I will still agree." Erik beamed. If he was the Angel of Music, he can still roam around earth and stay with her… "Ah… to keep up with the most current development of music… it will be easier for me to operate on earth, right? I can spend some time with the composers and performers…"
"I quiet agree." Said Uriel, grinning, "Do not fear, I have no intention to separate you from the Charming Christine."
Erik was overjoyed as he left the archangels after massive amount of paperwork.
"Name, Rank and Position?" The receptionist asked.
"Erik, Urielite, Angel of Music." He couldn't help but smile.
Christine de Chagny just finished another exhausting rehearsal. As she sat alone in the dressing room, she suddenly wished that her angel of music could be with her. Surprisingly, he will, very, very soon.
Somewhere back in heaven, somebody was drawing. It was a figure with chocolate brown hair and another blonde one with white, feathery wings.
Uriel glanced at a note on her desk, it was short, only a mere few words.
Uriel,
Hope now you are satisfied.
G.
"Oh, I am very impressed indeed, Gabriella." She grinned to herself. "You behavior was truly shocking, even better than I expected."
She managed to get rid of a massive amount of work and proved justice at the same time. Gabriel was so irritated, which is priceless. The best of all, she thought, was the fact that Michael and Raphael also underestimated the brains of a female.