A.N. – This is my baby. It's been a long time coming, but I've finally started posting. This all began when I first read the synopsis to Love Never Dies, and thought "Come ON! This is NOT what would logically happen, and it's not what people want to see! So, here's my take on what truly would have happened after the curtain had dropped on the Opera Populaire.
This is a work based on the 2004 film musical starring Gerard Butler, Emmy Rossum, and Patrick Wilson.
Please R&R!
Rating- This story is rated M for sexual content, adult themes, and some grotesque images. Please turn back if you are underage- though I know that doesn't stop about 90% of you…
Disclaimer –Me not own nothin'. Everything you be seein' is belongin' to Gaston Leroux and ALW.
Prologue
January 1870
Paris, France
Pale light bathed the chamber, dimly illuminating the form of a man, kneeling at the feet of a monkey-music box like the worshipper of a deity. The toy was lovingly crafted, each detail rendered with infinite care by his own hands…
His forest-green eyes were fixed on the small porcelain face, clearly seeing something beyond the hideous visage. A faint tremor shook his body – strange, he'd never suffered from the cold…
"Masquerade,
Paper faces on parade,
Masquerade,
Hide your face so the world will never find you…"
The whisper had barely left his lips, when he became aware of a new presence.
She stood immobile in the doorway, the steady rise and fall of her bodice and the scent of soft, living flesh all that discerned her from her waxen counterpart. The silk and lace bridal gown clung to her body, dark curls spilling over her shoulders. A choked breath escaped his throat.
As a little girl, she'd been perfection. Now she rivaled the sun for radiance.
All the years he had devoted to her swept past his eyes – a child sobbing in a chapel, a fragile girl pouring out her voice like wine until the angels themselves wept, a nubile, innocent young woman, sighing and enraptured in his arms…
"Christine, I love…you…"
She barely seemed to hear him, all but ignored the three words that had cost him his heart and soul to utter.
Her hand traveled to her finger, and with a rush of pain, she watched his face crumble as she prised away the glittering diamond ring. Lightly as an insect sipping nectar from a bud, she caught his hand and pressed the gem to his palm.
He gazed up at her with a mix of confusion and heartbreak, as she closed his fingers over the ring, and, with a look of pity and apology turned towards the door…
Years later, she never knew, or ever asked, what made her look back.
She only knew it was time enough to watch the façade of power he had built for himself over the years fall to pieces, like the opera crumbling above their heads.
With the fall of those two, perfect tears down his face, every doubt and regret she carried vanished.
She swept back with a rush of silk skirts, and dropped between his knees. Emerald eyes met dark nutmeg, both brimming with unshed tears as she flew forward and claimed his lips passionately.
A sob finally escaped his chest as her long arms wrapped around his shoulders, warmth seeping from her body to his own like blood from a wound… her mouth was soft and inviting, always coaxing him back for more. It was only too easy to forget everything- that the only home he'd ever known was burning to the ground, that her lover had fled into the darkness, that a mob surged through the catacombs, prepared to lynch him. In this world of hatred, cruelty, and prejudice, she was his one source of pure light – of love…
The strength of the embrace soon propelled them over the swan's wing, and into the nest of crimson velvet. The singer felt a gasp against her mouth as she deepened the kiss and slowly reached for the opening of his shirt, her heart hammering like a tabor…
A red rose lay forgotten on the fur carpet, the petals scattered like drops of blood.
Footsteps slapped against wet tile, trickling water illuminated by the light of dozens of torches.
He had barely been employed a week- a workhand in the flies. Now he was splashing through a flooded cellar, his work-knife drawn, ready to join the others in hunting down, trying, and executing a murderer.
"There's the gate!"
With a single frenzied scream, the masses rushed forward, smashing into the porticullis. Hands reached through the bars, shouting, wailing.
"Monster!" "Killer!" "In the name of God-!"
He roared with the others, squeezing his thick arms through the iron grid until they were coated in blood...
Suddenly a new madness seemed to seize the crowd, their onslaught thus halted. Men slammed at the metal with hammers, hardly caring whether they struck iron or flesh… others surged forward, crushing those in front.
He felt the air being crushed from his lungs, there were bodies everywhere, he tried to scream but couldn't… Black spots swirled in front of his eyes, his chest seemed to be caving in…
No one heard the corpse hit the water with a splash. Nor did they care when their shoes scuffed his flesh, marring him until his face was un-recognizable…
"Oh God…!"
Her soft moan reverberated about the chamber, as a single tear streamed down her porcelain cheek. The pain lingered a moment or two longer, but vanished quickly, drowned by all other sensations…
His fingers dug into her hips as he trembled like a leaf. It was entirely new, the feeling of flesh on flesh and his body was reaching desperately for something, but as tempting as it was, he didn't want it to end…
She gently ran her fingers through his honey-colored hair, both thick and sparse, and studied his face. He would never have believed her, but at that moment he truly was beautiful.
He felt her move closer- if that were possible- her lips caressing the raw skin stretched over his skull. A moan left him breathless.
She felt soft in his hands, pulsing gently with each throb of her heart. And it was warm, though they had nothing but the candlelight to cover their bodies.
"Christine…"
His voice cut through the cloud of passion that drowned her mind, their eyes meeting as her tiny hands splayed over his chest. Muscle swelled beneath her palms as she hesitantly touched the sensitive flesh at her fingertips. He threw his head back with a cry, her mouth trailing kisses over his exposed throat.
"Christine, please…" he gasped, though still uncertain what he was begging for…
Soon the time for words had passed, and all that was left was heat, moans, and liquid. Her tongue found his lips, giving him a taste of joy as it all culminated in a dizzying second heartbeat, emerging exactly where their bodies were connected. The rhythm steadily increased until he was prepared to scream with the not-quite pain of it, driving them nearer and nearer to the precipice. His hands clutched at her auburn curls, the ring glittering like a star on his little finger as the need and passion finally exploded, leaving them floating and breathless.
Their lips met instantly, a warm haze descending over their minds as he retrieved an ivory fur blanket from the floor and wrapped her in it gently, her dark head resting contentedly on his chest…
They lay still entwined, as outside in the cavern the gate began to crack with a triumphant roar.
And together, they greeted the mob as two lovers.