10/15/08
Escape From the Point of No Return
Raoul had watched as the strange man took Piangi's place on stage. He had watched as his fiancée bravely carried on through her anxiety, looking to him for reassurance. He had kept the police at bay as long as the dark figure was anywhere near Christine. He had doubted her devotion to him, briefly, until she removed the mask from the face of the newcomer. The latter glowered at her for a moment, then drew her close and brandished a knife. The Vicomte tensed and grabbed the balustrade as he realized who the stranger was: the "Phantom of the Opera," a man with a face that was hardly a face… with skin that saw nothing but darkness… with a strange, sweet voice… with Christine in his madman's grasp. Now he watched as the shady figure sliced through the ropes that held the chandelier aloft, and a great cry arose in the theater as the fixture trembled. The "Phantom" grabbed a nearby rope, and Christine wrenched herself out of his grasp as he leaped off of the platform towards a trapdoor that had opened beneath him. Raoul hoisted himself over the side of his box to the rope nearest him and began to repel down to the stage. Halfway down, though, a resonant ripping sound reached his ears, and he was horrified to see the source of it. The giant chandelier was descending – as though in slow motion – toward the stage, its chains tearing through the ceiling as it plunged toward the young diva headed down the platform stairs. The "Phantom was nowhere to be seen.
With a curt "no!," Raoul slid the rest of the way down the rope. The chandelier was above the orchestra pit when his feet hit the ground, and Christine had just reached the bottom of the spiral staircase. To the man's horror, she froze when she realized the great union of fire and glass to be just moments from crushing her, a thought which was poison to Raoul. Left with no other option, he bolted onto the stage and pulled Christine out of the path of the chandelier. He supported her as she stumbled along through the backstage area with him, hugging her to him instinctively when the glass collided noisily with the stage. Flames shot up, instantaneously consuming the room where Christine had been singing hardly minutes ago; the temperature of the entire building was rising rapidly. Once out of immediate danger, the couple found themselves running through the living quarters of the opera, not quite outrunning the flames that were racing through the building. Just before the blaze reached their feet, Raoul and Christine stepped out of the carriage room and onto the cold, gray street. Only when they were on the sidewalk opposite the opera house did they dare stop.
As she watched her home of several years burn, Christine's breathing quickened. A sob escaped her control. Tears began to flow. She broke down, silently renouncing her obligations to the "Phantom." She knew she could not live like she had been anywhere except the opera house. All at once, she felt frightened again, at a loss for what to do. Surely, Madame Giry would relocate everybody, find new positions for them. After her last performance, though, Christine wished never to perform in another opera again. It was her life's work, though, all she knew how to do. Now, all of a sudden, her world was being shattered again. This time, though, she had someone she loved beside her… to guard her and to guide her.
Raoul wrapped his arms snugly around Christine's frail form as she turned to cry into his chest. He moved one hand to her head protectively, softly assuring her that everything would be all right.
"No," she shook her head, even more distraught than before. She pulled away just enough to meet his gaze. "He'll find me."
"He can't." Raoul and Christine looked up to find Madame Giry beside them. "Erik is dead. The Phantom of the Opera is dead." There was a strange emptiness in her voice, a sadness in her eyes.
"Are you sure?" Raoul asked hopefully, loosening his grip on Christine ever so slightly.
"I'm positive. The police took his body." Her voice was as lead, an outward projection of the various burdens on her heart. "Now you must take Christine and go. It's too dangerous for her here. There are too many rumors. I will do my best to clear them, but she's best off with you now."
Meg joined her mother, having broken away from a nearby crowd. "Isn't there another way?" she pleaded, knowing full well that she would not like the answer.
"No." Christine moved away from Raoul to address her best friend. "As long as I stay here, I shall live in fear. I must go."
The young blonde smiled sadly as she embraced the girl who had been as a sister to her. "I'll miss you, Christine. You must promise me you'll take care of yourselves."
"We will," Christine promised, as Raoul nodded in agreement. "I'll miss you too, Meg." The brunette then turned her attention to her instructor, curtseying politely. "Farewell, Madame Giry."
"Farewell, Christine." Madame Giry took her daughter in her arms as Raoul led Christine to a more remote part of town where they could catch a carriage to freedom, to hope, to a new life.