None will ever be a true Parisian who has not learned to wear a mask of gaiety over his sorrows and one of sadness, boredom or indifference over his inward joy.
In Paris, our lives are one masked ball…
-Gaston Leroux
The Vicomtesse leaned back against the pillows as she stared through the window. She observed as a few snowflakes danced against the glass. Visions of the past drifted by with the snow.
A haunting voice echoing in the darkness.
A furious duel in a graveyard.
A promise for a life full of light.
The Vicomtesse shut her eyes against the memories and sighed. She desperately wished that she had something to do right now. Then she would not have so much time to dwell on her thoughts. The Vicomtesse flinched when she felt a hand land on her shoulder. Her eyes flew open and the Vicomtesse was greeted with the sight of a young man with short blond hair and warm blue eyes.
"Mother! Are you alright!?" the worried young man asked.
The Vicomtesse frowned.
"Charles! For the last time, I am well! Please refrain from making the assumption that my death is linked to the closing of my eyes!" Her throat began to burn and she coughed violently. The son blushed in embarrassment and took her hand as he gently patted her back.
"My apologies, mother. I was simply very afraid. I do not know how we are going to handle things without you." The boy held her hand tightly. The Vicomtesse's eyes softened.
"You truly are like your father when he was a child," she looked back towards the window and smiled gently, "I believe you shall be fine. You are not alone after all. Phillip and Charlotte will be with you. And, my health has not worsen for quite a while. I am not leaving my dear children anytime soon."
The son looked away and sadly sighed."I still feel very uneasy nevertheless. I keep having this niggling fear that death's phantom is going to steal you away at any moment and take you to the underworld."
The Vicomtesse kept her soft smile as she inwardly cringed.
Charles stood up with glazed eyes, oblivious to the emotional turmoil he unknowingly caused, and shook his head as if to keep himself awake. "My apologies, I should not be talking about death." he glanced down at his silver watch and quickly stood up "Oh no! I am late! Farewell mother, I have to go have dinner with Laura!" He spoke fast and left the room in a panic.
With the door shut the Vicomtesse was alone once more. She shook her head. Yes, Charles was very much like Raoul in his youth. With thoughts of lost red scarves, the Vicomtesse closed her eyes again and drifted into slumber.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Something is wrong.
The room was covered in darkness when the Vicomtesse woke up. She could tell something was amiss the moment she opened her eyes.
For one thing, she was in excruciating pain and a certain coldness has pervaded the air. It felt as if there were millions of needles piercing her body. The old woman wanted to scream, but only the quietest of sounds came out of her mouth. Panic infested her body like a disease.
No. No. No! Please, someone! Anyone! I can't be alone!
Tears started spilling out of her eyes as the fear consumed her. She became a child again as she desperately wished to not be alone. Her heart beating faster and faster until...everything stopped. The coldness was still there, but the pain was gone. The Vicomtesse looked around in confusion. She was still lying on the same bed, in the same room, but everything felt...off.
Suddenly, she heard rustling from the far end of her room. Tap. Tap. Tap. The Vicomtesse felt the tendrils of horror wrapping themselves around her again. As the sounds came closer though, a shape started to form as well.
It stopped at the foot of her bed. With the shadows and her weak vision working against her, she could not make out the form, but she could tell it was a man. He had dark skin and wore a sandy-colored robe. It appeared that there were some objects attached to the man's back. Silence hung between them and was shattered as the man began to speak.
"Hello Miss Daae." The figure spoke with a foreign accent.
The old woman raised an eyebrow. She couldn't place where the accent was from, but it seemed familiar. The Viscountesse stomped on her fear and focused on trying to find out who this man was.
"How dare you intrude into my home! Who are you?" she demanded.
The man gave a slight chuckle. "Did the wings not give it away?" Her eyes widened.
So that is what those two shapes on his back were, but they were not the color of white. If anything, they were grey and much closer to black... Fear seized her for a moment before she shoved it aside. She schooled her features into a mask of indifference.
"So, monsieur, has the jury decided on hell?" she asked coolly. If God has made his decision, she might as well face it dignified. The shape cringed. Although his face was a blur, she could almost see the resentment on his face.
"No, they have not. I am NOT a demon!" The man paused for a bit and then relaxed, "I am sorry for the outburst Miss Daae, but you are very mistaken. I am, however, here to make you an offer."
The Vicomtesse grimaced at the last word. Well, this most certainly cannot be good. In fact, it seems frighteningly familiar. A man who may be an angel hiding in the darkness of her room... She shook her head. This must be a dream of some sort. Nevertheless, she should tread carefully.
"My name, monsieur, is Christine de Chagny. No one has addressed me as Daae for a very long time."
The man scoffed.
"No one calls you by that either. Everyone only addresses you by title. Madame, Mother, Viscountesse. The last time someone has called you by name was when dear little Meg was still alive." the man bluntly replied.
"What?"
Pain seared up in her chest again at the mention of her friend. She could feel the tears struggling to get free. No. The Viscountesse will not allow herself to indulge in the sadness. Especially in an incredibly shady circumstance such as this. Anger replaced pain and fury seeped into her eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, but the man abruptly sighed and continued.
"You two are so similar." The Vicomtesse raised an eyebrow at the cryptic statement. The man ignored her and came closer to her. "Besides the point, Miss Daae, don't you want to change that? A chance to regain your identity. A way...to change the past."
"Pa-pardon me?" she asked in a confused daze. The man turned his back towards her.
"I asked if you would like a second chance, Miss Daae. From what I have seen from your life, you have made quite a few mistakes that you would like to fix, correct?"
The Vicomtesse felt a chill go down her spine. Her mind was racing as she began to think of the implications of such a promise. A second chance? Such a prize is not to be taken lightly...or freely.
"Tell me monsieur, does this "second chance" require the sale of my soul?" the Vicomtesse questioned as she narrowed her eyes at him. The man turned around again.
"No, no souls. No payment of any kind in fact. To require payment is to assure the customer that they will get something in return." The man started to pace around the room. "I am no genie, Miss Daae. All I can do is offer you a chance. Whether or not you will use that chance to your full advantage is entirely up to you." The Viscountesse frowned.
"So, you are willing to give this second chance to me with no strings attached?" The man paused for a moment.
"Well, there are no strings attached per say, but there might be some new changes to your past, the effect of second chances."
"What sort of new changes?" the Viscountesse asked suspiciously. The man stiffened.
"Changes. Anyway, do you wish to accept my offer or not?" The man gestured towards her. "Either way, you can't come back. Your time here has ended."
The Viscountesse clenched her hands as the finality dawned on her. She was going to leave whether or not she wanted to. The cogs of her mind were turning.
It wasn't like she was going lose anything if she decided to partake in this endeavor and she does have everything to gain... She looked straight at the man's face.
"Very well then, I accept." The man grinned.
"It was a pleasure doing business with you, Miss Daae."
...and that's the first chapter. Yay! Yeah, this is my first fanfiction ever. Hopefully the story will turn out well. Anyway, thanks for reading! Please review! Edit: The Baroness de Barbazac is Meg by the way. She married a Baron in the book.