Disclaimer: Don't own Phantom, if I did then Phantom and Christine would have stayed together and Raoul would be at the bottom of a septic tank rotting away into oil…
This is my first shot at a Phantom fic, I write mostly Power Rangers fics… please be kind with the comments…
This is going to have some changes to it from the movie. EVERYONE knows that the chandelier fell down and the opera house was destroyed, but for this story's sake, THE PLACE DIDN'T GO UP IN FLAMES, AND THE CHANDELIER WAS RE-HUNG. PLAYS ARE NOW BEING SUNG THERE AGAIN! PLEASE KEEP THIS IN MIND!
I'm not sure how long this is going to be, but it'll be a few chapters…
SUMMARY: It's ten years after Christine and Raoul were married, and they have a child. A brilliant boy name Erik, and no doubt a genius in music. His parents take him to a play at the world renouned Opera Populare, which as been rebuilt…but a trip down a staircase leads him to discover something that lives deep inside the catacombs of the Opera Populare…
Chapter one is up! Enjoy everyone! Please leave a review…
Immortal Angel
Chapter 1:
Ten Years Later
The laugh of a child echoed throughout the square in Paris. A young boy carrying a template with music on it sighed.
"Erik!" a boy shouted. "Hey, wait up!"
The young boy with dark black hair and gray eyes turned around.
"Bryan." Erik said. "What's up?"
Bryan smiled. "Did you hear? The Opera Populare is being reopened! Madame Giry is cutting the ribbon right now!"
Erik's eyes grew wide. He had heard stories about the opera house, and the disaster that killed twenty people ten years before his birth. But the one story he heard the most intrigued him.
The story of the Phantom of the Opera. He heard how killed with no mercy. He heard how the grand chandelier fell after the play he wrote turned tragic. Don Juan Triumphant was famous throughout the little town he lived him. The Punjab lasso was a mysterious tale that all the boys talked about at school.
"Keep you hand at the level of your eyes," Bryan teased.
Erik shrugged him off. "Cut it out."
"Look out, Erik." He placed his arm over his eyes. "I'm the Phantom of the Opera!" Bryan disappeared around a cart and ran into a man, his face hidden by a hood. Bryan stopped ranting as this strange man cloaked in black stared at him.
Erik saw this man; there was something in his eyes. The weight of the world seemed to rest on his shoulders, all of the sadness in the world hid behind that hood.
"Come on, Bryan. We're going to be late." Erik muttered slowly and pulled his friend. This strange man stared at these two boys and disappeared into the darkness.
At the Opera House
"Today is a landmark for all those here, standing before me. It has been ten years since the Phantom as left us. These past ten years have been a struggle for all of us here at the opera house. Many lives have been lost, and many regained. We are hoping to have the beginnings of a new era here at the Opera Populare. A life of music, and a life without the Phantom of the Opera." Madame Giry said. "With the cutting of this ribbon, I here by declare this house open!"
The scissors cut the ribbon in half as a cheer was heard.
Erik smiled at this sight. The doors of the opera house opened up wide to let its people in. The music seemed to flow out and entrap Erik in its mystery.
"Erik!" a woman called. He turned around and smiled. "Mother! Father!"
A beautiful woman of thirty hugged her son. "Erik, where have you run off to?" his father teased.
"Oh Raoul, he was looking for some new pens, I do believe yours has run out." She smiled.
"Of course I know that. He writes too much!" Raoul protested. But the look in his father's eyes smiled down upon Erik. "What have you gotten done on your show, little Lotte?"
His mother gave Raoul a playful shove. "I thought you called me Little Lotte?"
He pulled his wife close. "Christine, darling. We need a new lotte in the family."
Christine smiled at Raoul and gave him a kiss. Erik merely rolled his eyes. "Mother, Father, can we go inside?"
The sparkle in his mother's face went out. "Please? I've always wanted to see the inside." He pulled his mother's frozen hand. "Mother? Are you okay?"
'I am your Angel of Music…come to the Angel of Music…' His voice replayed over in Christine's head.
"Christine?" Raoul asked. "Darling are you okay?"
"That voice…" she looked around the square. Raoul's smirk fell.
"Erik, we'll come here tomorrow. Your mother is falling ill." Raoul put his arm around Christine, helping her walk.
"But Father!" Erik protested.
"No buts young man. We go home, now." His father's voice was firm. Erik groaned and followed his parents back home.
He gave the opera house one last glance, and saw something.
A small figure stood atop a gargoyle overlook his parents, a white mask on the right side of his face. Erik shook his head again and looked.
The figure was gone. 'You're looking it, Erik. Keep it together. There is no Phantom of the Opera.'
"Erik! Now!" This father's voice took his out of the trance.
"I'm coming, I'm coming!" yelled the boy. But he looked atop the statue, wondering what he was thinking.
He followed his parents home, the image still rested in his eyes.
Later
Christine sat on the edge of her bed, staring aimlessly out at the rooftop of the Opera Populare. So many memories of her times spent in the opera house. Her first starring role, her first kiss with Raoul was on that rooftop. But something else lurked in the back of her mind.
That man who gave her that talent, that wonderful voice. The Phantom of the Opera was a legend. Was she hearing things, or was he back?
But that was impossible, her and Raoul saw him go through the mirror and disappear into the darkness. She saw the mask lying on the ground and the broken shards of glass.
Something sent a tingle down the back of her neck. Someone was watching her.
Someone outside on the balcony. She slowly got up and walked towards it, the voice came back to her. That voice which trained her, that voice which captured her spirit.
I am your Angel of Music…come to the Angel of Music…Christine…"Christine?" she turned around to see Raoul standing there. "Christine are you okay?"
The soprano shook her head. "I don't know, Raoul. I don't know." She buried her face into her husband's shoulder.
"What wrong?" he asked.
"I…keep hearing his voice, he keeps calling me. The Angel is alive, Raoul. I can sense him. I can feel him."
"Christine, we've all ready been through this." He said quickly. "The Phantom of the Opera is dead. We found his mask, covered in blood. Remember? He can no longer haunt us. Now we have Erik. The Phantom," he paused. "Is merely a ghost."
Christine looked out the window, the moon cast it's shadow upon the two lovers. "It's late and you've had a long day. Come to bed, Christine, rest will do you good."
She nodded. "Yes, I suppose so."
After changing into her nightgown she lay down next to her husband. But the Phantom's voice came to her again. His face came into her dreams. Christine felt his arms go around her waist as he spoke to her. Her room was filled with that enticing voice that she couldn't resist. Christine walked over to the large mirror, a face came into view.
I am your Angel of Music. Listen to the darkness, Christine. Listen to the Music of the Night. Your Angel of Music has returned.
His hand reached for her. "No!" she cried and the mirror shattered, waiting Raoul from his peaceful slumber.
"Christine!" He saw her crouched on the floor, blood and glass combined into one puddle on the floor. "Dear God, what happened?" He cuddled his wife on the floor.
"He's indeed alive, Raoul!" she cried. "I saw him, I felt him. He spoke to me. He said 'your Angel of Music has returned."
He shushed her. "Christine, it was a dream." He dried her eyes.
"I felt him, Raoul. I saw him." her eyes yelled out, her voice trembled.
Raoul held her close. "Christine, you're imagining things. Please. Calm down, I don't want you to get upset. He's dead. We all know that."
"Did we ever find a body?" she asked. Raoul didn't answer, but only held his wife close.
Outside their door, Erik listened. His eyes wide. He knew of his mother's singing ability, he knew of her opera days. But he never knew of her connection with the Phantom. Why was his mother so upset? Did she have something to do with that famous disaster all those years ago? But one question stuck out amongst the rest…
The Phantom of the Opera…alive?
ch 2 up soon…
If this may seem kinda bad and short, I promise you it'll only get better…please leave a review!