Disclaimer: I do not own the Phantom of the Opera or Skava. The Phantom belongs to Gaston Lerox. I'm borrowing Skava from a friend
"Don't let it end, your music of the night"
Erik was hallucinating. He knew he had to be. Before him stood a girl, a girl with a tear-streaked face wearing strange clothes. And she was singing to him, as though she felt sorry for him. It was impossible.
"Erik" she whispered, closing her eyes as more tears fell
"Track down this murderer!" the voices were almost upon them now "He must be found!" and suddenly the whole of the opera populaire was upon them.
The girl whirled around, briefly curling her hands into fists before carefully relaxing them. "Back the hell off." She snarled her eyes glinting in a way that reminded everyone painfully of the so called 'monster' that stood behind her not wanting anything but sweet silence. But how could he have it when each moment spoke to him in chords and melodies? Why was he cursed to be tormented so?
"You cannot threaten us!" insisted one of the men in song as he stepped forward
"Who is to say, that I'm no danger?" sang the girl, following the tune of "the angel of music" that she knew by heart "what do you know of me? How do you know I cannot harm you? Who are you to judge me?"
Andre stepped forward to join Firmin, reverting to the tune of the chant that they refused to give up "This is our opera house. You are a girl. You'll run away in fright if rage unfurls!"
The girl tilted her head to the side, an expression that clearly said 'Oh really?'
Madame Giry began to sing now; "I suggest you back down! Before you're hurt! On you now God will frown! But lesson learnt!"
Erik braced himself for what he knew would inevitably come; the girl would leave. He knew she would, for how could she not
The corners of her mouth turned up in a smile, but, to add to the uneasy atmosphere, it was not a joyful smile in the least. It held malice and confidence most had never seen in a woman before.
Madame Giry found her voice again "Sir please, whatever you're doing to this young lady, I beg of you, please-"
"Don't waste your time Madame" spat the girl "I doubt Erik has a clue who I am, let alone why I am here."
"Stand down before you get hurt girl!"
The girl threw back her head in laughter "I? I Madame?" her laughter became hysterical. Several people stepped back.
"She's mad!" exclaimed Carlotta
"Indeed I am Madame Carlotta," said the girl, her laughter dying. The cruel smile had once again graced her lips.
The girl cupped her hand, as though holding something infinitely precious, and indeed a ball of fire sprung to life, hovering above her palm. She drew the hand across the air in front of her, the scorching flames trailing from it, creating a barrier between his pursuers they would not dare to cross.
A queer sound filled the air. Black squares fell from the ceiling behind Erik, the discordant melody fading as they formed the shape of yet another girl, in similarly strange clothing to the girl who manipulated the flames.
For an instant, the malice in her eyes was gone. She looked scared, confused. She was shaking, Erik realized. As she fell to the floor, a single strangled name emerged from her lips.
"Skava?" he voice cracked, far from the deadly harmony it had held before.
"Hello Twi'"
"Who are you?" whispered Erik
"T-Twila" stammered one of the girls still shaking incessantly, more and more violently. At last she collapsed her coppery-gold hair splayed across the stone.
Skava frowned; muttering to herself, then raced past him to the piano, and played a single chord- GCE.
Twila's eyes snapped open and she sat up, breathing hard as though awakening from a nightmare. She looked from Skava to Erik, then whispered a single sentence, so softly it was barely heard. "I can't stay here"
Flames enveloped her body and in the space it took to blink, both she and the fire were gone.