Shattered Truth: A Phantom of the Opera fanfiction
By: Flameora
It was a lie, she realized in horror. It was all a lie. The angel, the stories, even the spirit was gone. Now it was just a man. A man who existed in flesh and blood, rather than only when she wished for him to be. She didn't what what to make of it, and it frightened her to know that practically everything she had believed to be true wasn't real, and that all she thought to be fake was. He was a person, and he really was the Phantom of the Opera. O.G, P.T.O, Opera Ghost, the list could go on forever. But no matter what pseudonym he went by, he was still real, which was the thing that scared her the most.
She exited the carriage and walked inside the cemetery's huge metal gates. As far back as she could remember, visiting her father's grave always gave her a great deal of comfort. Though he was among the many souls who had long ceased to be walking, she always somehow knew that he was indeed alive. But even he was gone, too. Looking back, it shamed her that she had been so foolish to believe in everything she was told. Childishly naïve, she roamed through the opera house with a grin glued onto her face, indulged in the blissful ignorance that was her artificial faith. She whispered part of her favorite childhood story, desperately trying hold onto her old life in some form, though she knew it was too late to turn back, too late to keep believing in broken dreams.
"Little Lotte thought of everything and nothing," she uttered. " Her father promised her that he would send her the Angel of Music." She could feel her face getting hot and she felt like crying as tiny specks of snow dropped gracefully from the sky and landed in her hair. She was very cold, but she did not register this in the slightest.
"Her father promised her. Her father promised her." Then, for some unexplainable reason, she began to sing. She, herself, didn't even know why she was doing it. Well, old habits die hard, I guess… she thought.
"You were once my one companion, she muttered sadly, trudging through the cemetery. "You were all that mattered. You were once a friend and father…- her heart sank- "Then my world was shattered.
Wishing you were somehow here again, wishing you were somehow near. Sometimes it seems if I just dreamed somehow you would be here. Wishing I could hear your voice again, knowing that I never would. Dreaming of you won't help me to do all that you dreamed I could!...
Passing bells and sculpted angels, cold and monumental," she continued. Her muscles tightened during that moment, when she suddenly remembered her "angel", and she sung the word with a cold dispassion, which then quickly evaporated. "Seem for you the wrong companions. You were warm and gentle…"
She stopped for a bit as she admired the statues and gravestones that were now almost covered with snow. She had been here many times and knew exactly where to go to visit her father. At last she reached his grave, finally finding her voice again as she walked toward the concrete steps.
"Too many years fighting back tears, why can't the past just die? Wishing you were somehow here again, knowing we must say goodbye. Try to forgive, teach me to live. Give me the strength to try! No more memories, no more silent tears, no more gazing across the wasted years…" She sat quietly on the bottom step. "Help me say goodbye… Help me say goodbye…!"
She sat there in silence as she tried to indulge herself in the sweet nostalgia that was the memories of her past, and she lowered her head in sorrow. Then she heard a voice. A very familiar voice, a voice that she knew couldn't be mistaken, one that she never expected to hear again. At least, not here, out of all other places. But it was there, clear as crystal.
Wandering child, so lost, so helpless, yearning for my guidance," he sang softly. Now that she knew his true identity, she wasn't sure if she should be frightened or not.
"Angel or father, friend or phantom, who is it there staring?" she sang in reply, eyeing the grave warily.
"Have you forgotten your Angel?"
"Angel, O speak, what endless longings echo in this whisper?" A light slowly appeared from inside the monument. She realized how much of a magician he was, but she still couldn't help but wonder how he was doing it.
"Too long you've wandered in winter, far from my fathering gaze…"
She squinted her eyes. "Wildly my mind beats against you."
"You resist, yet your soul obeys!"
"Yet the soul obeys! Angel of Music, I denied you, turning from true beauty!"
"Angel of Music, you denied me, turning from true beauty!"
"Angel of music, my protector…"
"Do not shun me. Come to your strange angel!"
"Come to me, strange angel!"
"I am your angel of music. Come to me, Angel of Music. I am your angel of music. Come to me, Angel of…"
Their spell was broken by Raoul's shouts of protest.
"No!" he shouted, jumping down from his horse. "No, Christine, wait!"
"Raoul…" Christine tried to say.
Raoul yanked out his sword and put a hand on her shoulder, saying, "Whatever you believe, this man- this thing- is not your father!"
Christine gasped loudly, seeing the Phantom leap out from behind and present his sword. The two broke out into an intense battle, fighting over the only woman they desired. Christine stood still, frozen in place by fear. She wanted to help Raoul, but how could she? She didn't know how to fence, let alone interfere and make them stop. She cowered as she watched Raoul's arm get cut by the Phantom's cutlass. In response, he got up angrily and stormed after his opponent, finally knocking him to the ground and kicking away his sword. He rose up his own in pure fury, ready to pierce the man's heart. He let out a yell of rage. He was ready to kill the masked fiend. I'm going to do it, he told himself. I'm ready to kill this bastard!
Christine couldn't take it anymore. She was well aware that Raoul had every reason to kill the man, but something in her heart and mind pulled her back. "No Raoul!" she cried. Raoul turned to her. "No. Not like this…" Raoul gave one last glare at the Phantom before he stopped completely, regaining his composure and tucking his sword back inside his scabbard. He and Christine merely jumped onto the horse's back and took off. The Phantom got up and watched them ride off into the distance, glaring at them until they were out of sight.
"Now," he said, catching his breath, "let it be war upon you both…" And with a mere wave of his cape, he was gone.