Well, if any of you have read my stories before, I am deeply sorry for not finishing any of them. I'm terrible like that. I have adored this musical since I can remember (being that my dad sang it to me when I was an infant) and I love the movie tons. So, came this vignette. I wanted to know what Raoul was thinking in that moment that this scene was occurring. It's right during "Point of No Return" Thanks.
Wet, soft flakes of pure snow swirled outside; that I knew well, simply put. At least, that is what I thought that I knew. As fire, crimson and orange raged in front of me, it was difficult to bring my mind upon much else. All I could see was her, and all that I could feel in the over stimulating surrounds was the blood-pumping life force in my chest attempting to escape from its protective cage.
This is too close. Too dangerous. Too risky. Too hair-raising. And a fact even more terrifying than my awareness of the situation, was the fact that she had been aware hours before. She had been all too aware of the danger awaiting her and yet I, brave man that I am, consoled her and convinced her frightened form that my point of view was the correct one. And now, as the moments grew shorter and the anxiety felt as tangible as the cloth beneath my fingertips…I realized that she was right. Christine was right and if the armed men in this theatre did not act quickly, it may be too late. Granted, nothing had yet happened that should raise my suspicion to the level on which it now rested. Nothing had gone wrong. There had been no mysterious voices from above, no missing singers and no physical, real danger; but I knew there would be.
Colors and fire flashing before my eyes in a whirl of dance and song bled slowly into soft swirls, and my mind was no longer in box five of the Opera Populaire, watching fate and fortune slowly unravel. In my mind I could hear the sound of slapping, lazy waters and Christine's tears of unspoken prayers. She rocked fervently forward and backward with the same strange, unearthly movements of a lone ship on midnight waters and the fear in her half-lidded eyes could be seen from where I stood. I needed not to ask what uncertainties haunted her. The stiff click of my shoes could be heard above the deafening silence in the chapel as the soft, sorrowful form turned and rose to me.
"Raoul, I'm frightened." I could hear her speak softly and shakily, the words barely echoing past dark stone walls. "Don't make me do this. Don't make me go through this ordeal by fire." My mind ran in silent circles as I tried poorly to encourage some uplifting, courage-inspiring words. I wanted to comfort her. I wanted to fix the broken pieces of her fragile world. I wanted to be eloquent; to be the protecting man that I knew she needed. Yet, despite all of this, no words appeared. Though I knew what I had come to solidify between us and I held her tightly in my arms, I knew that I could not say anything. Christine's chest rose and fell tensely, stressed with the energy of speaking strained trepidations.
"…be there singing songs in my head. He'll always be there singing songs in my head." With unconscious movement, I saw that we had come to be sitting new to the large piece of stained glass; one of the few considerable sources of light in the tiny chapel. Both of us had moved towards the comforting light unknowingly, somehow hoping that it would bring us out of the ink black darkness of the situation.
"You said yourself, he was nothing but a man. Yet while he lives, he will haunt us till we're dead." Tears welled up in her eyes and what little confidence remained in me of the certainty of my scheme was crushed by small drops of salty water. I knew what I was doing to her. Her loyalties and fears were fighting desperately against each other with no indication of who the victor would become. The agony that tormented her tender heart and spirit poured out unrestricted in the words that she spoke.
"Twisted every way, what answer can I give? Am I to risk my life to win the chance to live? Can I betray the man who once inspired my voice? Can I become his prey? Do I have any choice? He kills without a thought. He murders all that's good. I know I can't refuse. And yet…" At that moment I felt the pieces of the world peel away in tiny fractures of feeling. Pain. Confusion. Yearning. Hope. Fear. Conflict. Every nerve felt raw as I realized that I was the reason for her pain. It could have been forcibly argued that I was not the sole benefactor of the agony that Christine was experiencing; but it would have been to no avail. In that space of time, nothing else could be seen by the vision of my soul. Nothing else could even compare. Though I feel it was only a fraction of a second before her words continued to flow, I was aware something within me fracturing and I knew that there would now be an undeniable difference.
"I wish I could. Oh God if I agree, what horrors wait for me in this, the Phantom's Opera." In the desperate idea of comfort that fought to be free of me, words dripped form my mouth and in that space we both grasped desperately at an eluding peace.
"Christine, Christine, don't think that I don't care. But every hope and every prayer rests on you now." She fell into my arms and on her delicate features I could see the burden which she now alone carried.
Only hours before I had held her in my arms. Only hours. Now, she was on the stage in front of me, yet leaps and bounds from safety and freedom. The gendarme standing tense behind me moved slightly, causing the floor of the sinister box to creak and making my hair to stand on end. I sickened me to think that the safety of the woman I loved now depended on soldiers whose motives, beliefs and skill I could hardly know or trust.
Christine's melodious voice did little to soothe my nerves or soften the tense knots in my shoulders; I could have almost sworn that the opposite effect was achieved. I nodded in a reaffirming way at her, despite my actual misgivings when an unsure glance was directed towards me. A new voice filled the stage and the sensation of ice-water flowing through my veins met with my view of the man now singing. Christine tentatively turned her head to meet the figure of the man as he slowly brought one finger to his lips in a gesture of silence. My heart beat came faster at the uncertainly which walked hand in hand with the newcomer's appearance. In confusion and fear I watched my fiancée's eyes close, seemingly in an expression of pleasure or pain. A song: "The Point of No Return", coursed through the theatre and brought with it an unidentifiable aggression and tenseness. Christine's body pulled close to the man's as his hand rose to her neck and slid down a thin arm. In my mind's eye, I saw every fear realized as recognition flooded me in the silent glances of both Christine and the Phantom. Now alert and aware of the present danger, I cast a knowing glance to the gendarme behind me and put a calming hand towards Andre and Firmin.
The two forms of all that I held dear and all that I held corrupt rose towards a bridge suspended high above a pit of flames, unknowingly I rose with them. Every muscle in my body screamed to be set free from the restriction that I placed upon them. Any ounce of sane energy that I had remaining within me was being utilized to prevent my own leaping onto stage and alerting the Phantom. Tendon, muscles, bones and blood stood cold as her lithe form became encircled in his arms. His. The man who had near to stolen her numerous times before and was corrupting her mind even still. His arms were wrapped around her warmly and his hands ran over her body. His. Tears came to my eyes as I saw that even worse, Christine did not resist. Breathing came shallow and difficult to my lungs, if I even noticed what my body was screaming for. I was only aware of emotions, color, and a midnight-black mask that floated above her head. Christine's form became softer and her head more limp as I saw it fall to the side, resting comfortably in his hands.
Moments shattered suddenly when the softly sung words leaving his mouth reached my ears.
"Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime. Leave me, save me from my solitude." A dark, burning feeling rose inside of me as an emotion beyond fear, jealousy or pain grew in my heart and the tears welled further in front of my eyes. He was singing the song. Our song. My promise to Christine of love, safety, hope and passion. Our song. And she was quickly giving in to it. Every though, feeling and emotion in my body threatened to explode out of my mere mortal form and a look of unmasked disgust swept across my face. I knew then that Christine's fears were valid. She had known that, had she been confronted with him again, she would melt under the flame of the Phantom's passion. She had known and I had quieted her. Now I could do nothing but stand helpless and watch my love's demise unfold.
"Say you'll want me with you here beside you. Anywhere you go let me go too." I could not see the expression which was resting upon her face at that exact moment, and somewhere in me a dying flicker hoped that she had not given up. When her soft, pale hand reached up to rest upon his face, I felt completely sick.
"Christine, that's all I ask of…" As each part of my body ran cold, I watched her every movement with hollow awareness. Her hand moved quicker than I could almost distinguish through my haze of tears and a gasp arose from the audience. The hand that had only a moment ago shown tenderness and love towards the menace now disrobed him from one of the two things that had ever brought him comfort; the other was the source of his humiliation. For one swift moment I gazed upon the distorted face of all that had tormented the both of us for far too long. The next, my muscles jerked in reaction and I was out of box five and moving as quickly as I could towards the stage. All that could be heard in my ears was the roar of blood and an alarmed crowd.
With all the fierce instinct of a hunting animal, I ran back into the box, for a reason unknown to my own thought processes. As my eyes franticly focused, I saw Christine and my worst nightmare: the Phantom had taken her.
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