The Persian has been hanging out in the Opera House too long. And Erik's playroom would send anyone out of his mind. I believe we call that… a premise. It's been years since I read The Phantom of the Opera… I throw things at all derivative works! All credit goes directly to Gaston Leroux.
Shadow Requiem
Then Christine kissed me, for the first time, herself, here, on the forehead--don't look, daroga!--here, on the forehead...on my forehead, mine--don't look, daroga!--
- The End of the Ghost's Love Story, The Phantom of the Opera
Death's angel is no angel; she is nothing but a girl, not even twenty, so innocent and cruel, a child with a voice that makes the Devil weep. She kissed him in kindness, and his heart broke. She kissed him with her little red mouth and blooming heart, and his love is killing him.
If he would but allow you to look, daroga, you might see it in his face. If he would but allow you to look, daroga, you might see the horribly disfigured man you rescued once, you might see the night's torment, you might see tears and pain and rapture and humanity. If he would but allow you to look, daroga, you might see love where once was abyss.
If he would but allow you to look, daroga, you would see the Phantom of the Opera is but a man; a broken, loveless ruin of brilliance and apathy and longing.
She left him there weeping, daroga, left him alone in his maze and his loneliness, with nothing but his tears and hers. Death's angel is no angel; nothing but a little girl in love.
She kissed him once, daroga, the first time and the last time, and he is dying.
If she had loved him, daroga, do you think he would have died of happiness? Do you think, if she had loved him, he would die before the words left her mouth or would the voice he gave her be his death?
Do you think, daroga, she could have honored him? Had she remained his wife, that is. Do you think, were she not a child but a woman, do you think she would have kept the scorpion's promise, her own promise? To be his living wife, as long as Death and his angel lived? Do you think she could have stood living beneath the world, in the Devil's own keep? Do you think she would have sung, as one half of a duet, with him haunting her voice? Would she have sought silence in death, do you think, or does music so own her soul?
He is dying now, daroga, and only you know. The Opera Ghost, le mort vivant, Erik is dying. He is dying now, of his love he says, of his love for her. Perhaps his angel loves him enough to give him happiness and finally, serenity.
Daroga, will you mourn for Death?
Yes, I refer to Erik as Death a lot, which ain't 'canon'. I think Erik would be more enamored of his Red Death costume. Brings out his complexion. That and there's all those references to his 'death's head'. And he's not exactly unfamiliar with the whole killing business. I really like the end, even if I can't remember how old Christine is. I really like the end.
Madmen with mazes and chips on their shoulder,
With passions and music and mirror rooms that smolder
Torture and anger and Death's beating wings
These are a few of my favorite things.