Rating: K+
Summary: He watched them laugh, dance and talk from the shadows. What he saw didn't make him very happy. Dark Erik.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything, no money will be made from this and so on...
Author's note: I was thinking about Pink Floyd's song Hey You when the plot bunny bit me and I wrote it in the middle of the night. It did not turn out like I thought it would, and I still haven't decided if the bunny was good or bad. I'll leave that for you to decide. Many thanks to GothicalWishes, my friend and beta.
Masquerade
He watched them from the shadows, from the places where no one could see him. Silently stalking them, like a cat it's prey, waiting for the appropriate moment to strike. His little victims, dressed in their expensive and fashionable costumes, smiling, laughing, dancing with masks covering their perfect faces. How they disgusted him. How he envied them.
How utterly surprised and shocked they would be when he made his presence known. A smiled tugged at the corners of his lips. Yes, he would show these fools that the Opera Ghost was still here, that he had not disappeared. And he would bestow them with the honor of performing his opera, his masterpiece, even though he knew they wouldn't be capable of appreciating it.
And there she was, his muse, the object of his love, his passion, talking with that boy in hushed voices. A conversation in danger of becoming somewhat infected with irritation. He sneered. Engaged for three months and already arguing. Somehow that made him feel a little better he realized bitterly as he continued to watch the couple with wary eyes.
Elegant fingers suddenly nervously reached up to touch the ring she wore, hanging from a golden chain around her slender neck. A nervous look was swiftly thrown over her shoulder.
Foolish girl! Thinking that he didn't know, that he hadn't seen them. But he saw everything, he knew everything. There was no hiding from him. At least she had sense enough to be worried. He guessed he should give her some credit for that.
And she had reason to worry, he thought with flaring anger. She was his! His alone! Had he not tutored her, shared everything he had with her? And how he had hoped, how he had wished that she would love him, understand him, and look at him as a human being, her haven. But he would not give up without a fight. He would not give up that which belonged to him.