Twisted Every Way
A one-shot
Note: Set three years after Christine and Raoul's escape from Paris to Scandinavia. This story begins after the ending of the original novel, but the characters and the story is based on the 2004 film. In this piece, even though Raoul comes from a well-off aristocratic background, he and Christine have had to flee from Paris following the Phantom's death (as in the novel).
Disclaimer: Obviously all copyrights belong to Gaston Leroux & the makers of the 2004 film.
From 'Twisted Every Way'
Raoul: You said yourself he is nothing but a man/ yet while he lives/ he'll haunt us till we're dead...
Christine watched from the cottage window as evening steadily swept away the orange remnants of day from the sky which steadily blended into hues of pink, purple and the dark inky blue of night. She did not feel the hours pass as she stood there, caught up in a whirlpool of thoughts, uninterrupted even by the sound of footsteps entering the cottage; the sound of someone entering the kitchen; the sound of someone tentatively calling her name in a kind whisper, the sound of silent expectation for a moment before those footsteps retreated to the sitting room.
Much later, turning from the window, she glanced into the small, sparsely furnished sitting room. Illuminated by the light of dying embers, Raoul lay sleeping in a chair by the fireplace. Watching him, she felt a pang of guilt, a pang of sorrow. This was not how it should have been, it should never have come to this. They loved one another, why then did these silences and distances hang between them as an abyss?
Restless, she picked up Raoul's discarded cloak from the floor, and headed out the cottage. She did not care where she went, she only knew that she needed to breathe again, breathe the freedom of the crisp night air. She took an overgrown path, leading to a nearby cliff. And as she walked, she felt herself drowning in memories of the events in Paris and surfacing again into the present over and over, vacillating between the two like a pendulum.
Reaching the cliff, she looked below at a dark valley, mysterious and beautiful- betokening secrets, hidden depths, splendour- and sharp, jagged edges, deceptive turnings, danger and death...
And if he has to kill a thousand men/ the phantom of the opera will kill and kill again/
- My God who is this man/
who hunts to kill/
this mask of death/
I can't escape from him/
I never will/
The strange enveloping devastation over all that had passed came over her again as she remembered those moments in the Opera house of joy and beauty as she first sang on stage...think of me/think of me fondly...
Of excitement as she came face to face with her angel of music, the voice guiding her...wandering child, so lost, so helpless, yearning for my guidance...
Of fear as her angel fell, from her protector and teacher to a monster... You little prying Pandora! You little demon! Is this what you wanted to see? Curse you! You little lying Delilah! You little *viper*! Now you cannot ever be free! Damn you! Curse you...
Of uncertainty and guilt...Can I betray the man who once inspired my voice?...
And of relief, and haunting sadness... Go now - don't let them find you! Take the boat - swear to me never to tell. The secret you know of the angel in hell...
Overwhelmed she gasped for air. Taking a deep breath of the strong night air, she finally discerned the reason behind it all. The reason for her sense of suffocation and emptiness- the abyss-
There was no music any more... You alone can make my song take wing... It's over now / the music of the night...
Unbidden, the words of a song burned, raced through her mind, carried on a gloomy gust of wind.
Sing once again with me /Our strange duet /My power over you /Grows stronger yet...
She shivered in the night breeze, in spite of the warm cloak.
The darkness of the music of the night could not haunt her forever, she would let daylight dry her tears- she remembered Raoul's words
Let me be your shelter/ Let me be your light/ You're safe, no one will find you/ Your fears are far behind you
She turned away from the valley and walked back to the present, back to her home, back to Raoul.
