This is my attempt at a rewrite of POTO from Erik's POV. It's probably going to suck, but at least I tried! Please R&R
Disclaimer: I do not own the Phantom of the Opera, or any of its characters. They belong to Andrew Loydd Webber, or something like that.
Paris, 1919
I was hiding in the rafters of the old, decrepit opera house, watching the open auction take place. When I had first found out when it was to happen, I'd been furious. They were selling the precious relics from my opera house –within which I still lived! Because of my anger at their disrespect, I'd been more than prepared to play yet another prank on the poor idiots. But no –I had cured myself of that. As the pistol and three skulls were taken away to whatever buyer now had possession of them, the door opened and an old man in a wheelchair accompanied by a nurse and footman entered the room. He looked up to gaze around the lofty rafters, and my heart stopped when I saw his face: It was the Vicomte Raoul de Chagny! That…that bastard who had stolen my little… Christine (it still hurt to even think her name, after all these years, and she was dead!) from me, and he dared to enter my opera house again! But before I could let my rage take me over once more, I looked at the face of the Vicomte. It was lined and wrinkled, and I could see from the protective hovering of his nurse and footman that this man was not strong. He did not have a lifetime of scampering through the Populaire's rafters working towards his health. I decided to let him be. Once again I scanned the room, keeping half an eye on Raoul. There was another elderly person in the room, a woman this time. She, too, was watching Raoul, and when he glanced up to meet her eyes, shock passed through his body. I quickly changed the angle from which I was looking, and looked at her. My heart stopped again (this couldn't be good for me...), for it was little Meg Giry, the only daughter of Mme. Giry. After a brief moment of recognition for the both of them, all three of us turned out eyes back to the stage. Lot 665 was being brought out. As the young man showed the newest piece, I could tell that three hearts, not just mine, stuttered in their beats. "A figure of a monkey, in Persian robes," the pompous auctioneer had described it, "still in working order, ladies and gentlemen!" The little monkey sitting on the organ box began to play. The haunting tune spread out gently through the room, and I experienced rarely-felt tears pricking my eyes. So, too, I noticed, did Mme. Giry and Raoul. The song took me back, all the way through my childhood, as Meg and Raoul bid furiously for the box. Eventually Raoul got it for 30 francs. He held it in his lap, entranced, as the auctioneer moved on to 666. "A chandelier in pieces, with the new electric lighting" My breath quickened a bit as he moved to "reminisce" about "the curious affair of the Phantom of the Opera." My little romance, trajedy, and mystery. "Perhaps we can frighten away the ghosts, with a little illumination". With that, the sheet was pulled off the chandelier and the lights shorted into life. Men pulling on the pulley-ropes hauled the monstrous thing into the air. While it rose to it's rightful place at the top of the rounded ceiling, age seemed to disappear from the old opera house, the moldering seats turning to red velvet, the dusty statues becoming bright, and flames in the burnt-out stage lanterns once again burst to life. I could see that it took us all back... to that dress rehearsal of Hannibal, where it all started.
So, what did you think?? It came out a little shorter than I first intended, but I'm planning on working up the length of the chapters. Please R&R!
SDC
XOXO