Requiem – A Phantom of the Opera Fan fiction

By Firepelt

AN: I do not own POTO. Gaston Leroux and Andrew Lloyd Webber do. I am not either of them. D:

Chapter One: In which Christine Remembers

It was a dark and stormy night. Christine looked back at the opera house from her carriage and saw the flames licking the beautiful framework of her old home. It had been like a dream, how it had all happened. She didn't remember much, but she remembered his cries, his tears, and his kiss. She remembered her Erik. Her lost Phantom of the Opera.

***

Down once more to the dungeons of my black despair!

Erik dragged Christine by the arm to his lair and threw her to the ground. Tears rolled down his cheeks and his golden eyes flashed. He pushed a candelabrum to the ground and angrily lunged at his beautiful pipe organ. The haunting violin was soon in pieces and Erik dropped to the ground.

"Why?" he cried, looking at her, and watching her face. He clawed at his own face and stood up. He turned away from her and she began to cry.

"Erik…I…"

"You've made your choice Christine." Erik murmured, his voice broken with sobs. He retreated to his bedroom, where the coffin laid waiting for him. Christine slowly followed him and she put her hand on his shoulder. He whipped around and raised his hand, as if to strike her across the face, but he hesitated. A noise was heard at the gate, and Erik knew who it was.

"I do believe we have a guest," he growled as he walked toward the lake.

"Free her!"

Raoul's voice cut through the silence. Erik looked at the handsome youth, and smiled.

"She belongs to me now." He hissed, pulling Christine to his side. She squirmed and looked at Raoul.

"Do what you like with me but free her!" Raoul cried, banging on the gates of Erik's lair.

"Very well, monsieur…" Erik said as he waded into the water. He opened the gate and Raoul ran in. it was too quick for Christine to process, but Erik had Raoul pinned to the gate. A noose was around Raoul's neck, and the young sailor struggled. He reached behind him and pulled out a gun. Erik backed away, dropping the rope. Raoul struggled to free himself, but Christine found herself wading into the water to free him. Taking her in his arms, Raoul pointed the gun at Erik. There was a loud bang and Erik put his hand over his chest. He stumbled backward and retreated to the land, and then to his pipe organ. The beautiful instrument's pipes were twisted and broken; Erik's doings, and the ivory keys were stained with dried and fresh blood. Christine broke free from Raoul's grasp and ran to Erik.

"Oh, Angel, you have deceived me…" she whispered. Erik turned his head so that the handsome side was showing. He smiled half-heartedly and looked away.

"Go…" he whispered.

Christine couldn't believe her ears. She stared in shock at him and stepped a little closer to him.

"I told you to go." Erik growled at her, his voice getting weaker.

Christine touched Erik's face and he turned to her.

"I love you," he whispered to her as he stood up. His legs were shaking and blood had soaked his poet's shirt. He stumbled away from her, but she followed him. Her voice was barely audible, but Erik knew what she meant.

Steeping forward, Christine pressed her body against Erik's and kissed him on the lips. Her arms wrapped around his waist and he sighed.

"I cannot keep you here, Christine." He said, trying to push her away.

Christine looked hurt, sadness filling her beautiful blue eyes, but Erik knew that he was the reason for all her pain. He could not keep her in darkness forever. She was a creature of the light, and did not belong in Hell. She did not belong with the Phantom.

"Erik… I…" Christine whispered, but Erik placed a finger over her lips to silence her. She began to sob and he backed away from her.

"Christine…" he whispered as he dropped to the ground.

Christine ran to his side and kissed him again. "I want to stay here with you… I made a mistake, Erik; I want you to forgive me."

"No, Christine, it is I who must ask for forgiveness." Erik whispered as he closed his eyes. Christine took his hand and squeezed it.

"I will not let you die here, Erik."

Erik tries to wriggle away from Christine's grasp, but much of his strength had been drained. "You must leave, Christine. You must leave before they find you!" he cried.

Christine looked back toward Raoul, who waited by Erik's boat.

"Christine! I hear them! Come with me now!" the young vicomte called to the soprano. Yet Christine did not leave Erik's side.

"Raoul, leave me with him." She called back. It was futile though, for by the time Raoul had reached her side, Erik's body was cold, and his heartbeat was slowing rapidly.

"Come Christine. He's almost dead. There's no hope of saving him now." Raoul said, putting his hand on Christine's shoulder.

Christine finally gave in and took Raoul's hand. She walked toward the boat and climbed in. Raoul got in after her and began to row the boat away.

Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime…

Let me lead you from your solitude…

Erik wearily got up from the ground as he heard Christine's voice singing in the distance. It was the voice that he had trained, the voice he had lifted from the ground, the voice he had made soar. Yet it was leaving him forever. True, he was saddened by the fact, but he knew it was right.

You alone can make my song take flight…

Erik cried out to Christine, but he knew she wouldn't return. There was no way that she would.

IT'S OVER NOW, THE MUSIC OF THE NIGHT!

Erik wandered over to the nearest mirror and uncovered the glossy surface. He smashed his fist against it and it cracked, distorting the image of his face even more. Without Christine, he was nothing. Without her, there was no point in his sorrowful life.

And by the end of the night, The Phantom of the Opera was dead.