Rated: T or PG-13
Genre: Horror/Tragedy
Summary: A morbid twist to the end of Love Never Dies. Readers beware for disturbing images. Based on the London production.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of Andrew Lloyd Webber's characters in Phantom and Love Never Dies. I wish I did though…
A/N: This is my little break from my two novels—The Blood's Desire and Heaven by the Sea. Why not get the month of October started off with a dark Phantom story? I will say this right away… some of you will be extremely shocked by this story. I honestly can't explain how this came to me, but it did. And it wouldn't go away unless I wrote it down.
Love Never Dies
By: Erik'sTrueAngel
Love never dies
Love will continue
Love keeps on beating
When you're gone
Love never dies
Once it is in you
Love may be fleeting
Love lives on
Love may be fleeting
Love lives on
~Excerpt from "Love Never Dies" by Andrew Lloyd Webber
Dead.
She was dead.
No! She couldn't be dead! Not her!
As I held her lifeless form, I watched as the blood pooled on the ground, my hands covered in crimson from trying to stop the flow. Then it dawned on me.
My Angel's blood was on my hands.
I was screaming, I know. I cradled her body, burying my face in her curls.
Dead.
My Christine, my love, my life was dead.
This was not how our story was supposed to end. We could not have found each other again only for Death to snatch her away from me with His cold touch. I could not accept this. I wouldn't!
Christine was not dead. Christine was not dead.
I repeated this over and over even when the ambulance arrived and the medics tried to take her… No! You can't take her! I shouted. I fought like mad to keep her from leaving, then I felt a sharp pinch in the back of my neck and I realized someone drugged me. A sedative to calm me down so they could carry her off.
I cried and cursed, not giving a damn that her husband and my son—our son!—watched me in my agonizing grief. Just before the drug could kick in and I drifted off into unconsciousness, I managed to look at my Angel's face one last time.
To my astonishment, I saw the barest trace of a smile and the flutter of her eyes.
Then I knew…
She was alive.
xxXXxx
When I regained consciousness, I was lying on a hospital bed. I waited for the inevitable pain that would come at knowing Christine's death… when I felt an overwhelming sense of calmness. Then I remembered.
She was alive. She was alive!
My Angel wasn't dead like I thought. Her heart was still beating and God had not taken her from me!
I was so overjoyed. She was alive! My Angel and I could still be together! As my mind was quickly whirling with thoughts of a promising future, I wondered if anyone else knew. And if someone did… what would it mean for us?
The door opened and in came the Vicomte and Gustave. The former was speaking, but I didn't hear a word that passed through his mouth. There was nothing he could say that was worth listening to until my betraying ears caught something of interest. I asked him to repeat himself.
The body… he was going to take the body back to Paris where she would be buried next to her father.
It was thoughtful; she would have liked that… if she was dead.
Then it occurred to me. The fool thought she was dead. That meant… yes! It was all a ploy. She wanted her precious, sniveling husband to think she was dead so we could be together. I couldn't have planned it better and for my Angel to come up with this clever deception was remarkable! If everyone thought she was dead, then we could run away and marry in secret. Oh Christine!
I kept in my smile of delight and masked it with a solemn expression, going along with the charade. My Angel was a fine actress and so was I. After all… I did teach her everything she knew and we had to use those skills now to secure our lifetime of happiness.
Gustave became the next topic. The fop went on to say he knew that Gustave was my son and I was entitled to him, but he wanted him. He could give the child a decent life and everything he knew was in Paris. Family, friends… and he vowed he would never touch another drop of alcohol not after this.
"He's all I have left of her."
I fixed him with a hard glare at that statement. Now he wanted to be the better man? The better husband and father? How dare him! Gustave was my flesh and blood and he was mine! True… I was not exactly thrilled with the idea of fatherhood. I would have tolerated him for Christine's sake and if she had truly died on the pier… I would not have hesitated in taking my own life just to be with her again. Gustave would have been an orphan, but that was not my concern. I would rather be with my Angel than be stuck with a child who would forever haunt me with Christine's image.
But that was not the case. Christine was alive and she would want our son to be with us. I would grant her that.
So I told him Gustave stays with me, it was what Christine would have wanted, and that had been her last words to me. The idiot could not argue against a dead woman's wish and he had no choice but to accept the child will not return to Paris with him. Gustave had been silently crying the entire time, but he did not once speak out against this arrangement. He was resigned to the fact that he would stay with his real father, and I did attempt to smile to cheer him up.
I knew he wanted his mother, and he would have her. Not now. But soon.
I left the hospital with a clearer mind and objective with Gustave at my side. I would have to return to collect my Angel. No doubt she was waiting for me to rescue her. I knew faking to be dead would not last long and someone would start to doubt her so I had to be quick.
I knew I could not do it with Gustave so I took him back to my home in Phantasma where my loyal minions were waiting. I ordered them to watch over Gustave while I had some business to attend. I trusted them to amuse the child while I was out.
Don't worry Angel… I am coming for you.
xxXXxx
I waited until night fell to make my move.
Once more, I was the Phantom and I snuck inside and hurried to the basement where the morgue was kept. My Angel was waiting for me. My heart was pounding in my ears as I moved closer and closer to where she was. I sensed she was nearby, I could always sense her, and I found her on a table. She was still dressed in her dress from the night before, the blood now dried.
She was pale in the rude light, her eyes shut tight. She was so still… so very still.
But it was a trick.
I crept to her side, my hand reaching to trace along her bottom lip. She was cool but that was to be expected in this frigid room. My poor Angel surely was freezing!
I whispered to her I was here and that I have come to take her away for good. As I gazed upon her lovely features, I saw her smile widened.
xxXXxx
I took her back to Phantasma, but not to my home. We knew that if Gustave saw her back from the grave it would drive the poor boy wild!
No…
It was better to wait and when the right time came… then we would reveal the truth to him. For now, I hid my Angel where no one else would know but me. I was loathed to leave her as we were now finally reunited, but I knew I had to go back for Gustave. With a quick kiss, I promised I would be back tomorrow night.
xxXXxx
I was not worried how the world would react to the news. I expected the reaction would be of horrified shock. So it was not at all surprising to discover the morning's headline was 'Missing Soprano's Body Taken from Hospital Morgue.'
I read the article in amusement. The Vicomte was distraught and was offering a reward to anyone with information about his wife's missing body. I knew Christine would get a laugh out of this so I made sure to keep it in my coat so when I visited her she could see it for herself.
I always told her she would be famous, and once again, she was the story of the century.
And as I expected the media to report this, I also expected the boy to come knocking on my door.
He demanded to know if I knew something about this. I told him I did not and I was just as outraged that someone would desecrate her memory by taking her body. He believed my sincerity and my disgust, but still had the audacity to warn me I should watch myself. He might believe me but he did not trust me.
Good.
I didn't trust him either. Not in the least bit.
After he left, I'm sure Christine would have been proud to see how I handled the delicate situation next. I made sure Gustave did not hear of this for I knew it would only upset him more than what he was over his mother's death. He was a sensitive boy and I was not a complete monster to make him suffer.
I told him not to worry that he would see his mother one day soon. He thought I was referring to Heaven.
"Sometimes Heaven can be right here on earth."
xxXXxx
Once Gustave was asleep, I stole off to see my beloved. I brought a new pair of clothes and some food as well as bandages.
Her death may have been a fake, but the gunshot wound was real.
I helped her undress and dress the wound before assisting her in her new gown. I assured her that she would be fine and that it would turn into a scar. She smiled at me demurely and I could see a hint of a blush in those white cheeks.
My Angel was still shy around me even after we made love ten years ago. I loved that she was my innocent Angel and her bashfulness was endearing.
As I fed her, I told her about the news story and her husband's visit. She was nervous and feared she would be found, but I assured her that would not happen. I lost her once those many years ago and I almost lost her forever for a second time, and I would be damned if someone would try and take her from me again.
Knowing she want to hear about Gustave, I told her he was mourning her loss but he was handling her death well for a child of his age. I knew she was anxious to see him again, and I promised it would happen. But not now.
She understood… blessed thing! She would wait forever until the time came for us to emerge into the light for a brand new start and life.
xxXXxx
I spent the next week secretly going to Christine at night. Her wound was healing nicely and there was no danger of an infection to my relief. I don't know what I would do if she became ill and we were forced to reveal the truth. Right now I was being greedy in keeping her all to my self. I knew we would have to stay Coney Island soon, but not until I felt my Angel was well enough to go.
During our nightly visits, we would discuss our plans for the future. There was so much of America to see and it would make it easier for us to hide from the rest of the world. I told her that this country was so large that the chances of finding someone would never happen. We could start over with new identities and live our lives the way we were suppose to. Together, forever, surrounded in our love and music.
I knew she was anxious to leave once and for all, but it was not feasible yet. The Vicomte was still searching for her body and if Gustave and I should leave abruptly it would certainly cast a cloud of suspicion.
No… the right time would come when the boy left America. Then, then we would leave all this behind for good.
My Angel agreed and she kissed me… telling me she was counting the day when we could be married.
xxXXxx
The time to leave took far longer than I would have liked. I'm an impatient man even though my patience could only go for so far. The boy was pushing my limits with his infernal insistence on staying on Coney Island until Christine was found. For a while, I feared he suspected something.
Four weeks… and since nothing new was discovered I had thought he would leave. But I was wrong.
He was stubborn, no doubt, and I knew he was waiting me out. He knew I had to know something about Christine's whereabouts and he was going to remain until I cracked… or at least make a slip.
Insolent boy!
He thought I would betray my Angel? Never!
But I knew it would be dangerous if I continued my nightly ritual so I did keep my distance from my love for several nights. The forced separation was hard on me, and I knew it had to be for her as well. Yet, I had to remind myself, I went ten years without her so what was a few more nights?
Yes… it was a willing sacrifice to make only to protect our future. I bore it the best I could and I did not give the boy any satisfaction that he could break me.
One does not live the kind of life I had with my face without developing a heightened sense of survival.
xxXXxx
It was at least another month before the Vicomte did give up.
There was nothing that could express my joy when I heard the news. We were finally free! Best of all… the fop never suspected the possibility that she could have been alive. He was so adamant that her body had been stolen and I did read in one article that he suspected perhaps body-snatchers who sell corpses to medical schools for students to dissect and study.
Preposterous!
I had to bite my cheek to keep from laughing out loud at his ridiculous plots. But he was gone now… he left New York with his tail between his legs, giving up on finding his wife's body. I did hear that he had no choice that the police believed it was a hopeless search and they could not spend their resources looking for a dead body when there were other crimes to investigate concerning the living.
All that mattered was the Vicomte was gone… and I didn't have to steal away in secret to see my angel. We didn't have to continue hiding! We could live our lives now the way we were meant to live them.
However, I couldn't go running off to Christine not when I had Gustave to consider. So I waited for the last time for nightfall so I could go to her and share the good news. As soon as I finished, I held her, kissed her, and together, we cried for the happiness within our grasp.
"What a splendid surprise it will be when our son wakes tomorrow morning to discover his mother is alive and well!" I exclaimed. "He will have the shock of his life!"
I picked up her hand and laid it against my visible cheek, her fingers a cool sensation to the burning fire in my body that we can renew what we had started those ten years ago… As I gazed into her adoring eyes… she smiled at me sadly, but there was no denying that she was suddenly unhappy once I mentioned Gustave. How could that have put a frown on her lovely face? I thought she would be happy that we wouldn't have to hide.
I beseeched her to tell me her thoughts—did she prefer telling Gustave differently? Maybe the surprise at the breakfast table might be too much for someone his age and after believing his mother was dead for over a month. Yet, she assured me that was not what made her sad.
"What is it?" I asked. "Tell me Christine."
"Oh Erik," she sighed. "We cannot tell him that I'm alive. He will be in shock, yes, but I also fear that if I came out of hiding… the news will make it back to Raoul. And once he knows… he will come back. No… this charade must continue longer until we are absolutely certain we are safe, my love."
"When?" I demanded. "The ship is gone and it will be months before it reaches his ears. If we're in luck, he will not have the funds to return to America if his gambling debts are not paid in full. His title will not be enough to buy him passage once he is broke. We are safe Christine. There are no more obstacles to prevent us from being together, do you not see?"
"I am still his wife. Legally, I belong to him. The courts will be able to help Raoul, even pay for his ticket so he can come back. No, we must wait. It is the only way."
"What if we disguised you?" I said suddenly, desperate now to convince her to come into the light with me as my bride.
Funny…
Before all I wanted, all I ever wished was for Christine to stay underground with me, and now I wanted her to walk above with me at her side. Cruel fate… how the tables have turned it would seem.
"I know legally we will have to obtain a divorce from your husband, but that takes time Christine. And knowing that damn boy… he will drag it out for as long as he could, postponing our chances of bliss. And honestly, I do not need a court or judge to tell me you are my wife. For in my heart, you are my mine. You belong to me. And we can live together with Gustave without hindrance. Yet, if it means that much to you... all we need to do is change your appearance, give you a new name, and we can marry at once. No one will ever know you were Christine Daaé. We'll take Gustave and move somewhere else if you wish—"
"And leave Phantasma? No… you put so much into it and I know Gustave loves it here. And besides… we will be living another lie, another secret." She shook her head in distaste. "No. We have done enough already. I cannot live in a lie any more. I did that with Raoul and it was nothing but misery. I want us to be together in the daylight of truth. I don't want to hide. It will be better if we wait a little longer before we wed."
"Very well if that's what you wish," I said. "But I cannot have you living in this shack for another minute. I have many rooms in my house, some that are secret chambers and their existence is known only by me. Come with me so we can be closer. I do not like having to come this far to see you, my love."
It was a compromise and one that my angel was willing to accept. So that night we moved her to one of the hidden rooms. The one I took her to was an exact replica to the Louis-Philippe room back in Paris with the same furnishings and decorations. I could not risk going back to import them, but I was successful in relocating them and I confessed to her that I had to re-design it again so it would feel like she never left me.
"I would spend hours in this room, knowing that you will come back to spend time with me. Of course… you were on the other side of the world, but I had my memories of our visits and I could imagine you walking through the door and asking me for another singing lesson or tell some story about the foreign lands I traveled. It was a happier time for me."
"As was mine," she answered, gliding gracefully to sit on the bed. "I had many cherished memories of this room and often dreamt that I would wake and I would be here and none of the awful things had happened." She held out her hand, a sensual grin playing on her lips. "Do you remember that night?"
As if I could ever forget!
"Of course," I replied swiftly, my body warming immediately at the huskiness in her voice. "You came back to me. You found me in here, lying on that exact spot."
"Yes…" With that, my angel beckoned me to come closer and like the obedient servant, I did as I was told by my bewitching mistress.
For the second time in my wretched life, I experienced perfection and bliss. To have my angel in my arms again after all these years… to taste her, to touch her, and to fill her… it was like we were those two innocents all over again, learning to play each other's bodies and discovering what brought us pleasure. Over and over again I found completion and the ultimate satisfaction with the pinnacle of my desire.
And she!
My angel was insatiable for me! Me!
I had no choice but to bend to her will until we were too tired to continue. And this time, I slept with Christine in my arms. I did not leave until morning came and it was she who woke me to tell me I must go.
"We cannot afford suspicions now," she whispered urgently. "You must leave and continue on like nothing has happened."
I would have preferred to stay with her all day, to Hell with the consequences, but as she dearly reminded me… I had a child that was dependent on me and I could not abandon him for my selfish whims.
I knew she was right and as loathed as I was to leave her alone… I had to go. With one last breathless kiss, I vowed I would return soon and hurried to my room to dress for breakfast. As I took my seat at the table, with Gustave across from me, I looked to my left and envisioned Christine one day sitting there, bestowing me with her smiles and girlish laughter.
Soon, I thought. Soon it will be the two of us sitting down for a meal, not I.
xxXXxx
Days blended into months and a year went by since Christine's "death."
It was still not safe for her to emerge as she told me numerous times and I had little choice but to continue the façade of a grieving lover.
As for Gustave…
He still mourned the loss of his mother, however, for a lad of eleven, he was demonstrating great maturity and was not weeping as much as he used to. Instead, the distraught child was rediscovering the joys that life could bring by helping me take care of the park and making friends with the local children. He even vented his frustration through music and under my tutelage and guidance… his talents prospered.
Gustave had a promising future as a musician as well as a businessman. In fact, becoming a father was not as terrible as I thought it would be. Gustave was an intelligent boy and behaved well enough that I did not have to worry about discipline or having to know where he was at all times. And as he was showing a keen interest in Phantasma, I enjoyed sharing with him all that I knew about the amusement park and how it was run. He didn't mind in assisting with the dirty work and coming along when I had to do inspections and such.
Yes… when he was old enough Gustave would make a fine business partner.
While my son was moving on, there were times when his face would crumble as he realized his mother was not there to hear his newest score or go on one of his favorite rides… but then he would fight back the tears and tell me, "I know she's in heaven and is smiling every time I play for her or when I'm having fun with my friends. She will always be there for me even if I cannot see her. I know she is proud of me."
I must admit that I was grateful Gustave would cheer up on his own whenever a dark shadow would cast over him. I have very little experience in dealing with grieving children, with the exception of Christine. Of course, all I had to do was sing and she would stop crying.
Gustave would not.
He might have stopped for a couple of minutes as my voice comforted him, but then he would begin to cry again and call for his mother. Those weeks were hellish and more than once I wanted to throttle him and yell at him to stop his infernal sobbing. When one night he called out the fop's name—I almost lost my temper. But I could hear Christine's voice telling me to be understanding and not to raise a hand to him because he was still upset.
As much as I reigned in control from hurting our son, I would go to Christine and tell her of my problems. She told me I was doing the right thing and that there were a few times when Raoul whipped Gustave for no apparent reason other than he lost his temper.
"Don't be like him, my angel," she implored me. "If you feel like you should strike him, then leave the room. Leave the house. He is only a child and needs help during this time."
"He needs his mother," I told her.
"I know he does," she replied with a hint of sadness in her tone. "But we know it is not safe. I cannot risk losing my family until I am certain we are not in danger."
Once again, my angel's logic prevailed and I capitulated to her wish. Yet, as I pulled her into my embrace, I could not help but express my concern that this hiding business was not in her best interest or for her health.
"You need the sun to flourish Christine," I said. "Remaining indoors is doing more harm than good. You have gotten so pale…"
"I am fine Erik. You survived all those years underground and turned out well. I can do this too."
To prove her point, Christine removed her dress and I found her flesh to be warm and inviting as her blue eyes sparkled with life.
xxXXxx
Five years passed now.
My angel and I have yet to reveal ourselves to the world. Gustave had grown into a fine, young man of sixteen. He had already surpassed his schooling and was taking courses at the local university. He would graduate in another year.
I was so proud of him. And in about a couple more years, Gustave would be ready to help in taking charge of Phantasma. I was planning on making him a partner on his eighteenth birthday and over time… I would gradually give him more power over the park until I could retire and dedicate full time to my music.
Christine felt it was a wonderful idea for my son and me to work together as equals. We have found out that we did work well, despite our passionate inclinations and clashing dispositions. However, in the end, it proves how similar we were and how we have a perfect product to share. A couple of times Gustave and I collaborated on some musical pieces and directed the shows during Phantasma's season. We may not agree on everything, but when it came to music… we both understood the drive to make it masterful and unforgettable.
While Gustave was growing up beautifully, I did not want Christine to miss anything. I created special windows throughout the house so she could look out and see Gustave and see how much he had progressed since he was ten-years-old.
It was certainly reminiscent of the opera house when it had been I watching through the walls. I could only imagine how my angel felt knowing she was being an omniscient watcher instead of an actual participant. Worst of all… I could not hear her sing, lest someone should hear her angelic voice through the walls. I knew whenever Gustave and I had a lesson, I would sense her close by and I felt her desire to join us but could not because of the threat of exposure.
Damn that de Chagny!
He was the only dark blot that prevented us from making our dreams come true. But I would later find out… the insufferable fool was trying to do more damage than his mere presence on this earth.
He had the audacity to write to Gustave.
If that was not injury enough, then it was knowing that my son kept this from my knowledge.
I had stumbled upon this correspondence by accident when I collected the mail. Normally, this was one of Gustave's chores, but I was feeling poorly and chose to stay home from Phantasma. It would be a good learning experience now that Gustave was seventeen and next year I was intending to make him partner. I wanted to see if he could handle the demands by himself and see what it means to be an owner of such a popular amusement park.
But it was the odd request he made before he left for the day that warranted my suspicions.
"Do not leave the house when I'm gone. If you need something, send a servant. I don't want you to drive yourself sicker than what you are and do not worry about Phantasma. It'll be in good hands. All I want is for you to stay and rest, Father."
Gustave gave me one of my looks I would have given his mother when I wanted her to follow a direct order, leaving no room for arguments. It was sometimes frightening to see how much of myself was in that boy while he had his mother's features. However, I was less than thrilled in being at the receiving end of my glare, but I begrudgingly consented to his demand.
I knew Gustave was right, and most importantly, I had to get well so I could see Christine.
After being kept hidden for nearly seven years without fresh air or the touch of the sun's light… Christine was prone to catching ill fast. I did the best I could to nurse her without the aid of a doctor, but I was concerned that she would end up dying after all. And it didn't make it easier in that her appetite was not as robust as it used to be and she had lost a good deal of weight. Of course, she would wave off my fretting and assure me I was making a big thing out of nothing.
However, I did not dare tempt fate in case I should infect her.
Yet, when the post came… I did not think that going outside for a couple of seconds would be that peril to my health. Once I retrieved the mail, I went to my study and began to browse the letters and bills that accompanied like always until I caught sight of the familiar de Chagny stamp.
Immediately, my spine stiffened and a rush of thoughts came racing that he somehow knew… that he was contacting me to tell me he was coming to fetch his wife and—
Then I noticed it was addressed to my son.
Yes…
Gustave's name was on the envelope in that sickening neat script.
Holding it in my hands, I was shaking with rage and half-expected the letter to burn in my grasp.
How dare he make contact with my son after all these years?! Did he not know that when I assume my paternal duty that he relinquished his previous hold on him?
Oh, I wanted to rip it into pieces at once, but my curiosity was piqued as to why he would write to Gustave now…
Temptation got the best of me and I opened the letter. As soon as I started to read, I discovered my son's betrayal.
It was obvious he kept in touch with his faux father these years, telling him of his accomplishments and stories that boys would tell their fathers about their lives and the like. Now, Gustave and I did reach a point in our relationship where we were able to discuss our lives and share quips and tales as well as debate on various topics. It was a foundation of respect and admiration that developed and eventually evolved into something dear.
Since the moment we met… I was called sir, Mr. Y, maestro, and finally… father. I never thought that such a label would come with an emotional attachment to it, but I was powerless once Gustave uttered that word to me—"Yes Father." It had been a simple request I asked of him and when he answered with those two words… my heart clenched with the rush of affection and happiness that I did not think would inspire me. The more I heard the title over time… the more accustomed I became and the more cherished it meant. While there was still one title I had yet to fulfill most desperately—husband—I guarded the fact that Gustave called me father fiercely. And to see that I was not the only one to share in the intimate details of his life… it filled me with unspeakable rage.
The more I perused the letter… my temper started to subside and an uncontainable sort of glee came over me.
It would appear that the fop was dying! He was apologizing to Gustave for not being a better father and husband to his mother and wished he could go back and change everything so they could be a family together again. If that was not pathetic enough, then it was his poor excuse in asking that Gustave would return to France.
I know you wish to remain in America to be with him… I'm sorry but I cannot call him your father when I still feel that is my rightful claim. I do not intend to anger you or make you upset of any kind for I know he is, but if you looked through my eyes you will understand how difficult it is for me to write down that word… father.
But I will digress and hope you continue reading.
Truthfully, all I ever want is your happiness Gustave. If Coney Island makes you happy, then I will not stand in the way. All I ask is if you would do me the honor to come to Paris this one time. I would love to see you one last time before I am finally reunited with your mother in heaven.
The doctors say it might not be that long before I draw my last breath and I wish to make amends for all that I have done and the pain that I caused. I regret every moment in taking up the bottle and going off at night for hours while you and your mother worried about me.
Please… allow me to gaze upon your face as a man this one time and I will be content with this precious gift. Do not refuse Gustave for I have lived my life with too many regrets. Do not repeat my mistakes. I beg you.
The letter concluded that his will had not changed and he intended to leave what little left he had to Gustave to do with as he pleased. While everything about it seemed sincere and the final wish authentic… I saw through it right away.
While I am not denying the Vicomte's word he was dying, I'm sure he was, but it was his incessant plea for Gustave to come to Paris. I had no doubt he saw this as his last chance to plead his side to my son, playing on the tender spot of his emotions to persuade him to leave. He was counting that the child within Gustave would recognize and sympathize with his former father's predicament and follow through with this last request. And I hated to admit this, but I believed Gustave would fall for the gullible attempt.
I could not let that happen.
After everything… he deserved to die with the knowledge that no one gave a damn about him. For did he not do the same to me back in the basement at the opera house?
I crumpled up the letter and tossed it into the burning fireplace. I intended that Gustave would never learn of this and when the Vicomte lies on his deathbed… he would realize he would not receive a response from his "son" and he would wither away, knowing he never stood a chance in reclaiming Gustave's love.
Perhaps it was too cruel of me to do such a deed. But I had no love for the man who raised my child and kept my dearest angel locked away from enjoying the pleasures of true happiness. We had to hide because of him and now…
Now…
We will be able to come out into the light and proclaim to the world that Christine Daaé was my rightful bride.
When Gustave returned home, he noticed I brought in the mail and admonished me for going against my word and leaving the house.
"You promised you wouldn't go outside Father," he said angrily. "I told you to let a servant take care of anything you needed… you could have captured pneumonia or God knows what else! You might not care what happens, but I do!"
I waited calmly and quietly until Gustave finished his ranting before he took in several deep breaths and his anger turned to remorse.
"Forgive me Father," he said. "I did not mean to yell… but you are all I have left and I do not want you to leave me. Childish, I know. But you mean the world to me."
"It is all right Gustave," I assured him. "I am used to doing things on my own and that will never change, but I do promise to take better care with your concerns. And as you can see… I am perfectly well. Better even."
He nodded. "I can see."
The smart boy waited until we sat down for dinner when he asked if he received anything. Asking right away after losing his temper would look suspicious and he knew I would question it and the ugly truth would be out in the open. No… he did not want to risk angering me either, which was good.
"No," I replied and the subject was dropped. Perhaps, in his mind, the letter would come tomorrow.
"But tell me… how did Phantasma fare by yourself?"
xxXXxx
The Vicomte de Chagny eventually past away the following year.
I believed the stubborn fool kept himself alive in hopes Gustave would come to him. I wished I was there to witness the harsh realization that Gustave was not coming and to see the devastation that would follow and later result in his death over a broken heart.
Sadistic… yes. But I had no qualms in this matter nor did I feel any regret of any kind. If anything, I felt vindicated.
But before I learned of the tragic news, I had to make sure that were no more letters to be worried about.
Of course, my plan was carefully executed to make sure that Gustave would not know of my interference. I would confiscate any letter from France, even bribing the postman to hold on to the letter so I could take the letter from him personally. As for any attempts to communicate on my son's part, I called upon my skills as the Phantom and stalked Gustave when he would leave to run an errand. The boy inherited Christine's need for honesty and would tell me where he was going. It was beneficial he had not inherited my tendencies for deception and secrets.
Or self-preservation.
It was too easy to track him and stay close without arousing him. It was a fatal flaw that needed to be rectified immediately so he could protect himself, but for now… it worked for me that he was ignorant of being followed.
Suffice to say, the correspondence did stop for good.
But… I knew something was amiss when Gustave failed to notice a singer out of tune while rehearsing for Phantasma's opening day. A break was called and I confronted him on this slip-up.
"We open in two weeks and this song has to be perfect! There is no excuse for bad singing now. You have to catch this Gustave."
"I know Father and I will next time, but…"
"What? Speak boy."
He sighed. "I was thinking that a friend of mine has not replied to any of my letters for months now. I don't know what to make of it."
"Well, it is possible he has better things to do," I said. "Don't forget. You have been busy yourself and your friend could have a new life that is taking his full attention. I would not be depressed about it. If your friend wishes to remain in touch he will write when he can. But now… I need you to go back to that stage and tell that girl she better practice or else she's fired, is that understood?"
When it came to opening days, Gustave knew it was best not to disturb the beast and he immediately became alert to do his job.
"I will. And Father?" He gave a quick look to make sure no one was watching and hugged me.
While Gustave was a man, he was still… in some ways a little boy. Like his mother, he craved affection and had to learn the hard way I was not a creature that provided such attention so easily. Yet, I found myself returning his hug, knowing it was the least I could do knowing I was the cause for his distraction.
When Gustave pulled back, he wrinkled his nose. "Father, I think you should find a new dry cleaner and fast."
Later that night, we returned home after a long, grueling day of rehearsals and final preparations. I was anxious to see my angel and excused myself with exhaustion so I could retire to bed.
I waited until Gustave went to his room and when the house was silent… I made my way to Christine's room. She was lying on her bed where I last left her, her tray untouched with the day's meals.
"Christine!" I ran to her and check to see what was wrong. She was absolutely chilled to the bone!
Muttering all sorts of oaths, I quickly went to the fireplace and began to prepare a fire to warm the room up.
"What were you thinking angel?" I asked her once I got the kindling going. "Are you purposefully trying to drive yourself sick?"
"Don't be silly Erik," she answered. "I got too warm that's all and I did eat… but I was more tired than anything. You don't have to fuss. I am fine."
"I'm afraid we differ on that position," I scolded. "You need to maintain your strength. You have been cooped up in here too long and I know this is damaging your health. Come. There is a full moon out and we can take a stroll in the garden without anyone ever knowing."
"I rather stay here with you," she said, flashing me her dazzling smile, but even that was hard for her to maintain. But I saw there was no persuading her and I crawled into bed with her, wrapping my arms around her thin waist. "Tell me about your day," she asked.
So I did. I left out the part where Gustave was distracted at work since Christine did not know anything about the letters or my intervention. I knew it would only upset her and I wouldn't want to be responsible in making her ill.
"Soon you will make the announcement that he will be your partner," Christine said dreamily.
"That's right, my angel," I confirmed. "On opening day. I will tell everyone Gustave will be my successor."
"I wish I could be there to hear that. He'll make a fine owner just like his father." Christine sighed and nestled closer to me, her face burying in the crook of my neck. I held her and inhaled her scent and the last I said as I drifted off, "I need to buy you new soap."
A week later the news of the Vicomte's death reached America's shores. Why would his death matter to the Americans? Well, in a few months it would mark the anniversary of Christine's "death" and it was a way for the media to sensationalize the tragedy and remind people what happened.
The section that referred to Christine was how she had been a promising singer who was cut short from her prime after making a comeback in ten years. It was a beautiful dedication in honoring my angel and it had a small section in there about Meg Giry who had shot and killed her. I hadn't thought about the Girys in years, they never crossed my mind. Well, young Meg was arrested and tried and was sent to a mental institution. Her mother wasn't mentioned and knowing Madame Giry… she more than likely disappeared to be away from the scandal and be close to her daughter.
The last part was about the Vicomte. As I stared at the article, it slowly began to dawn on me what it finally meant…
The Vicomte was dead. Christine was free.
I closed my eyes and trembled. Free… she no longer had a husband lurking in the shadows. We were free to marry, free to start our lives.
I was so overcome with my emotions that I broke down and sobbed.
Finally! After all these years… Christine and I can be together and we can tell the world that she was alive. Alive!
I had to tell her.
I jumped from my seat and ran down the hall and went through a secret passage to get to Christine. I know my thunderous running startled her and when I came through… I told her the good news.
Like myself, Christine began to quiver and she had to hold herself upright as she let loose her tears of joy.
"Oh Erik! Can it be true? Is Raoul truly dead?"
"Yes, my love. He is gone now and forever. We don't have to hide anymore. No one can tear us apart."
"Erik!" She held out her arms and I picked her up, swinging her around. "We can marry! Oh! I cannot believe it is finally happening!"
"We will marry at once," I said. "I can get a license and—" I paused and frowned at Christine's crestfallen visage. "What's this? Are you not happy?"
"I am," she insisted. "But I was thinking… poor Gustave. He would be upset once he knows we have kept this from him."
"I know but we did it for his own good. And for us too. He will understand."
"Perhaps."
"Christine, tell me there are no regrets. I cannot bear it if you change your mind."
"I will never Erik. I want this. I want you."
"Then when should we tell him?"
She thought about it and grinned. "Let's tell him the night you reveal your partnership. Bring him home and we will celebrate. I'm sure that during a time like that Gustave will be more receptive to my resurrection."
xxXXxx
We had it all planned out.
While Gustave and I were in Phantasma, Christine would prepare herself in my home for us to return. Then we will explain the truth to Gustave and get married right there with our son as a witness. I had arranged for the priest to arrive at ten, which would give us enough time to speak to Gustave.
Opening day was a success!
We had one of the best turnouts ever. I was so proud of Gustave for taking charge when he needed to and the live performances were not bad, but they could still use some work.
We closed the park at eight and had all the employees gather in my concert hall within ten minutes. I took to the stage with Gustave standing to my right. Everyone hushed in anticipation as I cleared my throat and projected my voice out.
"Ladies and gentlemen! I want you all to know that we had a terrific crowd on opening day and already it looks like we will have another promising season. While it looks good in my eyes… it does not mean we can start slacking off. I want every guest that enters Phantasma to be like the first day we opened without a hitch. I trust you won't disappoint me."
Taking a deep breath, I glanced over to my son. "But the main reason I called you all together is that I have a special announcement to make. As you know, my son Gustave has been assisting me with Phantasma since he was a boy. It wasn't until the past couple of years that he took on a managerial standpoint and assumed some of my responsibilities so to learn how to run the park for this very reason… as of this very moment I am making Gustave my partner here in Phantasma!"
Immediately, the applause erupted and the workers cheered and screamed in delight. Gustave, his face beaming from ear to ear, stepped forward and took a bow. This only caused my employees to cheer even louder and I was clapping my hands along with them. When the applause began to die out, Gustave faced me and held out his hand for a handshake.
"Thank you Father. You have no idea how much this means to me."
"I think I can guess," I replied, shaking his hand. "In good time, Phantasma will be yours. Do you think you can withstand the pressures?"
"With you as a father? I think I have it covered." Gustave smirked.
"Good."
Now, it was custom that after opening day and after I make my first speech to boost morale… the employees celebrate with a small party. I indulged it since it kept my workers happy and it was a reward for all the hard work they done from rehearsals to this very moment. So while the group filtered out of the concert hall to one of my restaurants in the park, I pulled Gustave aside to keep him from going along.
"I have another celebration in mind, son. And one, I know you would not want to miss."
Curious to what I meant, Gustave and I walked back home. I must admit. I felt like a schoolboy with each step drew me closer to my beloved who was waiting for us to return. I kept sticking my hand in my pocket where I kept Christine's ring all these years, finally knowing she will be my wife at last.
Gustave noticed my nervousness and asked me if I was all right.
"Perfectly fine," I insisted. "I hope that you like my surprise this evening."
"After making me partner? I cannot fathom another surprise that could top that."
This one will certainly do the trick, I thought.
We entered the house and I led the way to the parlor where Christine was going to be waiting. I flung the door opened—
And nothing.
The room was empty.
Frowning, I looked from side to side and started searching for my angel. Gustave followed in and watched me with great interest.
"I don't understand," I muttered. "She was supposed to be here."
"Who Father?" Gustave asked.
Then it clicked. Christine must have lost her nerve. She was so nervous this morning… she must have lost her courage and is waiting for her Angel of Music to come for her.
"Of course, the silly chit," I chuckled, shaking my head. "Gustave, would you mind sitting here for a moment? I'll be right back."
I was gone for five minutes and I had been right! Christine was frightened to stand there by herself and wanted me at her side. I obliged her, and together, we began to walk towards the parlor where our son was waiting unawares.
"Gustave…" I called. "I know this may come as a shock, but your mother and I have been waiting a long time for this moment."
He had been sitting with his back to the door and when he turned around… the color drained away from his face as he took a staggering step back.
"I know how this looks, but you need to understand… your mother had to hide herself from the Vicomte. We couldn't marry in fear he would take her and you back. But he's dead now. There is no reason to hide anymore."
But my son continued walking away from us as we came closer.
I frowned. I knew this wasn't going to be easy, but I didn't understand his unusual behavior.
"Gustave, cease this behavior! At least say something to your mother! She deserves the decency to have her son speak to her. Go on… do not hurt her feelings. She has been waiting for you."
At last, Gustave raised his hand and started pointing, his arm trembling like mad. "Y-you're insane!" his voice shook with such emotion. "Sick! How dare you bring her corpse to me?"
Corpse? I looked down at Christine who had tears swimming in her blue eyes. Her lips were pressed tightly together and she was shaking like a frightened doe. This was not how we planned it. No… this was going all wrong.
"Gustave, enough," I said firmly. "She is your mother. Yes, I know you believed she has been dead these eight years, but it was all a lie. She was never dead to begin with. She was alive, you see. And we had to keep it a secret to protect you, to protect us. But do you not see? We can be a family now. You, me, and your mother."
I put a hand behind Christine's back and gently pushed her forward. "Go on, son. Give your mother a hug and a kiss… now that she's back from the grave."
Gustave scrambled away, his back hitting against the wall. "You're mad!" he shouted. "My mother's dead! Dead! Look at her! My God! What have you done to her!?"
He collapsed on the floor, his hands covering his face as he sobbed wildly.
Turning to my bride, I murmured, "We knew it wouldn't be easy. But give it time… he will become use to it. Use to us… We need to be patient. Yes… we will wait for him to accept our love."
I leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her sunken cheek. Then with music playing in my mind, I took her hand and led my beautiful Christine in a waltz around the room.
Yes…
Christine was finally mine.
The way it should have been long ago.
The End
I'm probably going to get some heat for this, but it is a horror story and I did say reader beware… For some reason, after listening to the soundtrack to LND multiple times… I wondered how Erik would react to her death if he wasn't sound of mind and envisioning an older Gustave scared out of his wits when he sees his mother's corpse… so that's basically the inspiration for this one.
Go on… you want to leave a review.
