What Dreams
May Come
A Phantom/Wicked Crossover
AN: This is an new story that derives from an rp that a friend and I have been working on since forever. I've decided to turn it into a story so we'll see how this goes. This first chapter is going to be short, since I'm not sure how many people will actually like this story. Depending on the interest and such, I will post the next chapter, and if there's not, then I'll delete it and focus on my other stories. Hope you all enjoy and God Bless!
The last of the fires dinned, smoldering away to ash and embers. Faint wisps, twists of silver and grays rose from the forgotten ashes of the past rise high in the dust covered air. A breath of a whisper and the tendrils of smoke and ash vanish away beneath the darkness of the night.
The mystical remains of the Phantom's lair lay in ruins; forgotten memories now dust in the wind, remnants of a broken past flicker and glow, casting shadows to dance against the glistening cavern walls of the hidden catacombs fade in the dying light of the fires of rage.
The cries of an enraged mob echo like pebbles skimming across the moon covered sky.
'Track down this murderer…he must be found! Hunt out this animal…who runs to the ground! To long he's preyed on us…but now we know! The Phantom of the Opera is there deep down below!'
Shivering alone and broken, the Phantom of the Opera kneels amongst the debris, his dark, chocolate eyes sweep vacantly across the sea of treasure, keepsakes that had once held a special place in his now shattered heart.
"Christine" he whimpers to the nothingness surrounding him. A gentle sweep of his fingers and the music box beside him springs to life. Its haunting melody dances along the fine tip of his sanity.
"You alone…would have made my song take flight," shivering, his hand rose and covered the disfigured side of his face, cupping away the tears bubbling within his eyes. "It's over now…the music…of…the night," closing his eyes, the man who one held fear amongst the Opera staff, cries out into the loneliness of his despair.
"Fiyerooooo!," Elphaba cried out in desperation. Frantically, her slender fingers grasped the torn pages from the Grimmerie, and flipped through them madly. She had to find a spell to save her love.
Tears flooded her eyes, obscuring the archaic symbols dancing seductively across the yellowed pages. Furiously she wiped the tears away before scrolling through the pages once more.
'Please don't die,' she pleaded in her mind. A few turn of the pages, and Elphaba's dark chocolate eyes land upon a spell that may save her lovers life.
Squinting her eyes, she tries to read the ancient letters dancing and twirling along the flat surface of the pages.
'To Save A True Love'
Lifting her hands up to the pages, she starts to chant. Magick hums around her as her fingers dance in the air. Small crackles of ebony and emerald flicker at the fine edges of her nails.
'Please let this work,' closing her eyes, her heart breaks, feeling Fiyero's life force slip away into the blackness of the night, "Fiyero no!" cries Elphaba in agony.
Her mind becomes a hedgmaze of haze, mingling as one with the madness swirling like mist against the surface of a milk pond.
Slamming her fists against her sides, she throws her head back and screams. Grabbing the book, she slams it shut before crumpling to the ground in a heap.
"No…Fiyero!" screams Elphaba.
Suddenly, the ground beneath her shakes and trembles, before opening up and swallowing her whole. Snapping her head up Elphaba tried to scream against the darkness enveloping her. The last thing she remembered, was hitting the ground, before a cloak of shadows fell around her.
"Mademoiselle?" came a soft voice and then emptiness