This is a non-profit work of fan-fiction based upon The Phantom of the Opera novels and films. All related characters, places, and events, belong to Gaston Leroux and Andrew Lloyd Webber, and are used without permission. This story, and all original content, belongs to the author, © 2005.

"Eternal Illusion"
 by Orianna2000

Vaguely inspired by the 2004 film. This is a stand-alone one-shot, originally an excerpt from my novel-in-progress. How will it affect the novel? That remains to be seen...

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"Illusion is the first of all pleasures." -- Oscar Wilde

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"Dead... she is dead!"

Raoul stumbled out of the cellar, his throat thick with shouting. Never had the viscount looked so bedraggled, with his clothes torn and muddied, his hair pulled loose from its tidy queue. Dried tears marred the perfection of his face, dried blood stained the white of his shirt. Stagehands stared as he lurched past them, wondering if the nobleman had gone insane, or if he'd merely had too much to drink in celebratory anticipation of finally catching the Phantom.

"She's dead," he shouted again, and at last Madame Giry appeared, followed quickly by the managers. They wrapped a blanket around Raoul's shoulders and eased him to a comfortable chair. Word spread quickly of some ill-fortune connected with the new patron; as many of the staff gathered as could fit in the backstage area. Everyone murmured at the sight of the Viscount de Chagny, everyone strained to hear his story. Had he caught the Opera Ghost? Had he rescued Christine Daaé?

"Tell us what happened," urged Madame Giry. "You wandered into the lower cellars, and then...?"

Raoul groaned and covered his face. "I found the creature's lair..."

---

After what seemed many hours of wandering through the passages deep below the Paris Opera, Raoul stood finally at the threshold of his goal. A thick portcullis of iron guarded Erik's secret lair, preventing him from rushing onward. Perhaps emotion kept him from searching thoroughly, for he had not yet found a way to open the gate by the time Christine and the Phantom emerged from the hidden house. He heard muffled footsteps and the slight echo of voices. Though he did not understand the words, he recognized immediately the soprano tones. "Christine!"

"Well, well," Erik said, coming into view. "If it isn't the Viscount de Chagny, no doubt in search of the lovely Mademoiselle Daaé. Welcome to my home, monsieur!"

"If you've harmed her, I'll kill you myself. Let me see her!" Raoul demanded, shaking the heavy iron bars of the gate.

"As you wish, monsieur..." Erik waved his hands magnanimously; the portcullis heaved an ominous creak, then began to rise slowly.

Warily, the viscount watched the gate lift. He hesitated to rush forward, fearing a trap. Once assured the heavy iron portcullis would not fall on his head, he ducked under with haste. Hundreds of candles lit the area, causing him to blink with watery eyes. Unable to see clearly at first, he called out, "Where is she? Where is Christine?"

"I'm here, Raoul," Christine answered quickly. She stood several feet from the water's edge, wearing a gown of shimmering white silk. Lifting the hem of the skirt a few inches, she stepped forward. The train of her wedding gown trailed behind her on the sand. "I'm here. I haven't been hurt."

"Of course she hasn't been harmed," Erik declared. "This delicate angel has committed no sin! You on the other hand..." He let his voice trail ominously, with a heated glare aimed at the viscount.

Raoul sloshed through the water toward Christine. A look of torment crossed his face when he noticed the gown she wore. Under the malicious gaze of the Phantom, he stopped abruptly, still several feet away from his goal. He cleared his throat. "I'm glad you're all right, Christine. Not everyone has been so fortunate this evening."

After a quick glance at Erik, Christine creased her brow. "Whatever do you mean, Raoul?"

"Oh, he hasn't told you? I can't say I'm surprised. Few men brag of their murderous exploits to their ladies." Raoul shrugged and took a small step forward. The water lapped gently against his thighs. "Your Opera Ghost took the place of Signor Piangi during the second act of Don Juan, did he not? What do you suppose happened to Piangi? No, don't bother to guess – I'll tell you. Carlotta found him dead backstage, strangled in the same manner as Joseph Buquet. She became so hysterical that the police had to have the doctor sedate her. Don't you see, Christine? This man kills just for the chance to sing with you! Now do you understand my concern?"

Christine's face paled in horror as she turned to Erik. He quickly stood behind her, placed his hands on her shoulders, and murmured in her ear. "It isn't true, my love. I merely drugged the man. He'll wake with a mild headache, nothing more. The rope around his throat was simply for dramatic effect, I assure you."

"Don't believe anything he says," Raoul warned angrily. "A murderer would hardly find it difficult to stoop to lying to protect himself. He's using you to fulfill his sick lusts, and when he's taken what he desires, he'll kill you too!"

"What makes you think I haven't already claimed that which I so obviously crave, monsieur?" Erik queried, tracing a path along Christine's neck with the tips of his fingers. He nuzzled her ear. The flick of his tongue caused Christine to gasp. Her eyes closed in ecstasy and she leaned back against him, utterly in his power. Erik wrapped an arm around her possessively, then looked triumphantly to Raoul. "And what makes you so certain that you would be able to satisfy her in any way, after she's tasted what I offer?"

Raoul shook with jealous rage. He moved forward several anxious steps. "For God's sake, let her go!"

With a snarl, Erik released his hold on Christine and spun her away from him. She cried out and stumbled before regaining her balance. The look she gave the Phantom held confusion and angst. Her cheeks burned with agitation.

"Women are such weak minded creatures, don't you think, Viscount?" Erik strutted toward the water's edge, not even looking toward Christine.

"How dare you!" she exclaimed.

He turned toward her slowly, his voice low and dangerous. "Are you questioning me, mademoiselle? But then, perhaps you aren't as weak as I presumed. Perhaps it would be worthwhile to keep you a bit longer..."

Christine backed away from his menacing advance, dismayed. She accidentally stepped on the train to her gown, and in the moment it took for her to glance down and correct her steps, she found herself cornered against the natural stone wall. Erik bore down on her, a dark gleam in his eyes. His hands gripped both her wrists and forced them above her head. "You are mine," he whispered fiercely.

She could hardly breathe, her eyes locked on his. A vague whimper escaped her lips. Erik smirked knowingly.

"Get away from her, you monster!" Raoul ordered, coming up out of the water at a run.

Instantly, Erik dropped Christine's hands and whirled on the viscount. In seconds he had the man pinned against the wall beside Christine, a thin strand of rope noosed around his neck. The more Raoul struggled, the tighter the Punjab lasso became, until finally he held himself still, wheezing for breath.

"Now then!" The Opera Ghost smiled coldly. "I propose we let the lady decide whom she wants to be with. Christine, this is your choice! Listen carefully. Stay with me, and Raoul leaves here alone, but alive and in good health. Reject me, and you leave with a corpse for a lover!"

Christine parted her lips in shock. Her head shook from side to side as she stared at the Phantom and Raoul. "How can you ask such a thing from me, Angel?"

"I'm suggesting we make a deal," he stated sinisterly, ignoring her question. "We are all adults here. There's no need for tears or pleas for mercy. Simply give me your word that you'll become my wife, agreeing to everything that entails. In exchange, I promise you the viscount will go free."

"Don't do it," Raoul rasped wildly. "My life is worthless without your love, Christine! I would rather die than to see you in the arms of this freakish beast."

"Be silent, monsieur, lest I lose my temper! This arrangement is between Mlle Daaé and myself." Erik tightened the noose by a degree, then looked to Christine impatiently. "Well? Make your choice, and make it quickly, or I shall simply kill him and take you!"

Tears reddened her eyes as she looked imploringly at Raoul. He could say nothing now, with the pressure on his throat, but he gave off a miserable air. Christine knew what he would prefer she choose, just as he knew she would not do so. She offered a wordless apology to him, then placed her hand on Erik's, gently pulling his fingers away from the Punjab lasso.

"My Angel," she whispered soothingly. "You were born to darkness – now I will be your light. Let me stay by your side, and you shall never go wanting for comfort or love so long as I live."

At her declaration, the rope slid from the Phantom's fingers. Raoul fell to the sand, choking and gasping for air. Christine knelt to help him up, and he grabbed onto her shoulders, sputtering. "No, you can't do this! I won't let you do this!"

"It is already done," she replied softly. "Now you must leave, before he thinks I have trifled with him."

Raoul staggered to his feet, defiant, though knowing it would cost him his life. "No! I would die before leaving you to this demon's unvirtuous intentions."

---

"Such an ultimatum! To make the girl choose between marrying a monster or losing her fiancé. You are very brave, indeed, monsieur, to stand up to a man such as this." Both managers nodded their heads in agreement with each other.

Raoul said nothing, but fingered the bruises on his throat, fully aware that he had barely escaped with his life.

In agitation, Madam Giry pressed her lips together. "I never expected he would do such a thing. Threats and letters, yes! But you have not finished, Monsieur le Viscount. Pray, tell us... what happened then? What of Christine? How did it end?"

Wearily, Raoul shook his head. "The rest is somewhat of a blur, I'm afraid. I faced up to the Phantom, and then... then..." He plucked at his shirt, studying the bloodstains. For a long moment, he stared morosely, an expression almost of bewilderment on his face. "Then all of Hell broke loose, Madam. And I lost Christine."

---

"You are a very stubborn man, Monsieur de Chagny," Erik stated. He sighed, and seemed to lose some of his majesty.

Raoul watched with unease as Erik courteously guided Christine to one side. The Phantom seemed to pause in consideration, then turned and stood before him. "Viscount de Chagny, listen to my words: Christine shall never come to harm by my hand, I swear it. Now, look into my eyes and see the truth."

A baffled expression fell upon Raoul's face as he stared into the Phantom's golden eyes. His forehead creased and he swayed dizzily once, then stood perfectly still, his gaze locked with Erik's. The other man leaned forward and began murmuring. He spoke at length, and though Raoul tried to make sense of the words, he could focus only on the extraordinary tone of voice, fluid and smooth and beautiful.

After several moments, Erik eased a knife from his pocket. His eyes remained focused on Raoul, and his steady low voice kept the viscount enthralled. From her vantage point, Christine started in horror, but Erik made no dangerous movements. He simply cut shallowly across the palm of his hand. As she looked on with morbid curiosity, he cupped his palm, letting the blood accumulate. He then dipped the fingers of his other hand into the fluid and splattered a great deal of it onto the white linen of Raoul's dress shirt.

Finally he took Raoul by the arm and led him to the boat. With care, he helped the man to sit, then placed the guiding pole in his hands. He shoved the boat into the water with a solid push and let it drift toward the portcullis. Once the boat passed beneath the massive gate, his final words echoed across the water. "Go, Monsieur le Viscount, and be well."

At that Raoul jerked his head to one side, but did not look back toward the shore. He fumblingly maneuvered the pole into the water and began to guide the boat into the darkness.

---

Raoul shuddered in recollection. The opera folk stood around him, anxious to hear how the story ended, eager for any details of the slaying of the Opera Ghost. It took several deep breaths for Raoul to be able to control his emotions adequately enough to finish the tale. As he spoke, the stark images flashed before his eyes.

"We – we fought, struggled in the shallow water. I... won, for I remember standing over his body, watching it drift away in the current." Blood swelling across snow white linen. The despair in Christine's wide blue eyes.

He faltered, not wanting to remember what had happened next. "But then... then, Christine – she screamed, again and again, calling for her Angel. Before I could stop her, she threw herself into the lake and tried to swim toward the Phantom." A bubble of white silk floating up from beneath the black waters.

Raoul forced the words out. "Her dress, her skirts – they were too heavy. She – " His voice broke as he covered his face and doubled over.

Madame Giry sank to her knees, grasping at the viscount's arm. "No! It cannot be true!"

Raoul lifted his head and regarded her with bloodshot eyes. His voice sounded oddly flat, devoid of emotion. "I saw her drown. She is gone. They are both gone. It is over."

---

Far beneath the Paris Opera, a satisfied Phantom slipped his arm around Christine's waist and guided her into his house.

Just beyond the threshold, Christine pulled away and looked at him with uncertainty. "Erik, what have you done?"

"We are safe now, my dear," he whispered softly, tugging her back into his embrace. No one would bother them now. No one would search for bodies which didn't exist. Thanks to his finest illusion, they could, at last, be together in peace. His fingers caressed Christine's jaw, sliding down to her neck. "It is over, and you are mine."