Disclaimer: Phantom of the Opera belongs to the late Gaston Leroux. "Dark Secret" belongs to Matthew Sweet. I own nothing.
They Are Slaved to What You Know
You are sickened by the weakness
Of a heart that's filled with fear
And if the world won't understand you
You can make it disappear
'Cause there's a dark secret
Carry with you. . .
Carry with you. . .
They look at me strangely; they do not even ask my name. I am 'the Persian' in their eyes; I am an outcast; I do not need a name. I must admit that hurts. They do not understand me and they see no need to try. They would probably not notice if I just vanished one day. But he would. Erik knows me; Erik knows I am here; Erik would sense my leaving if I were to go. Thus I have long kept my silence and allowed Erik to continue his 'Opera Ghost' charade, even after I learned that Christine Daaé had become entangled in it. Imagine if they knew that their fate now lies in my hands alone. . .well, mine and Christine's, but as I cannot possibly know her position, it is impossible to calculate just how much power she may be able to wield over Erik. Either I can summon the Vicomte de Chagny and go down with him to the catacombs of the Paris Opera House, or I can leave everything to Erik and let him destroy all of their lives. For if Christine does not have her wits about her-and after all of this she can hardly be blamed if she does not-she may accidentally let Erik lose his temper, and if that happens, they might all die. I would find it difficult to shed tears for them.
Deep inside the way you hate them
On the outside doesn't show
Though they think that they will find you
They are slaved to what you know
It's a dark secret
Carry with you. . .
Carry with you. . .
I am somewhat unnerved by the way they are completely oblivious to their own folly. They have unwittingly placed their trust entirely in my conscience. Even those, like Mme Giry, who realise that the Opera Ghost is indeed real, are fool enough not to see the danger lurking behind the curtain. As if this were not enough to place them directly in harm's way, they have shunned me, their only hope-save for Christine-of protection against Erik, as an outsider unworthy of a minute's conversation. Erik, however much he may dislike me, realises that I am here and acknowledges me, therefore allowing me to know his secrets. That is not to say that I know all of them-quite the contrary-but I know enough to find him, and perhaps, with help from Monsieur le Vicomte, enough to find Christine. I may be the only one currently not trapped in the catacombs of the Opera who knows enough to save them should the need arise, and they have done nothing to earn my help. If I leave Erik to his own devices, they could all be blown up without ever knowing that they had a chance to be saved. Of course, I cannot promise that I will be able to save them, but I have a chance at least, something that no one else can claim to have.
It's a dark secret
Carry with you. . .
Carry with you. . .
Is a petty grudge worth a thousand lives? Of course not. I will go. I will fetch the viscount. I will bring him down with me to the catacombs of the Opera, and I know for certain that he will make no objection, as his love for Christine shines brightly and obviously in his eyes. He would die to save her. I know that she loves him in return. She would give herself over to Erik in exchange for his life, which may be precisely what Erik will ask her to do. But Erik is unfathomable. . .there is no way to know exactly what he will ask of Christine. However, he is in love with her, perhaps even more deeply than the viscount is, so it seems logical that this will be his request. But then again, Erik lives to defy logic, so there is really no way to know.
It's a dark secret
Carry with you. . .
It all comes down to me, to my choices. I, the non-factor of this equation, cancelled out long ago, am now the sole key to the solution. I will play my part; I will summon my courage. . .but I will regret every step I take towards Erik's haven. How ironic that I must now destroy the only person who harbours any feeling towards me, even if that feeling is anger. I once saved Erik's life. I have no wish to end it. The Phantom of the Opera has done no evil. No one ever showed him what evil is, instead running from his so-called death's head. Erik is not my friend, or at least he does not consider himself as such, but he recognises me. Now I am forced to attempt to kill him in favour of those I do not love. In fact, it is worse than that. I hate them. I hate them for failing to see me as a person, an equal. I hate the fact that I cannot in good conscience leave them all at Erik's mercy now.
It's a dark secret
Carry. . .
I will save them, or at least try. I do not expect to be thanked by anyone except perhaps Christine and the Vicomte de Chagny. Only Erik will speak to me, and his is the voice I am forced to silence.
FINIS
