The New Phantom Chapter 2, a phantom of the opera fanfic

Hiya guys! So I finally finished editing this chapter, hope ya like it :)

Thanks to:

Stargazer1364- Yeah, what happened with her dad does suck, but I figured it was best to create a parallel between her and Erik. :D

karisdaae24601- Thank you :) and I think I planned for the disease to be one that didn't show up until she was in her mid-to-late teens, and once she hit that, it would progress quickly until it took up at least half of her face. What do you think?

Chapter 2- The New Phantom

July 22, 2015 2:00 PM

Lacey approached the lair in wonder. The mirrors had been restored it seemed -by whom Lacey did not know- and the organ was in spectacular condition despite its age. Everything was exactly as she had imagined it. Dark red curtains were draped along the walls and entrances to the rooms. Paintings and drawings (the majority of which were of a beautiful woman) were pinned the the walls. On a table lay a model of a stage and quite obviously depicted a scene from Don Juan. Then she came across the mannequin.

She had to admit, it was strange considering it looked so life-like. But for once, she could see what Christine had sctually looked like. Christine wasn't terribly tall, probably just around 5'5, and skinny. Evidently she had long brown hair that cascaded in loose ringlets down her chest. Her skin was pale but her lips were blood red. Freckles were dusted across her nose and cheeks, a detail left out in both the book and the movie. Christine's eyes were large and mad her look sad, but the smile inside them dispelled all thoughts of depression. Her chocolate orbs seemed warm and inviting compared to the darkness of the lair. It was easy to see why Erik had loved her.

Lacey turned away from the model to explore the next room. It was Christine's room. The swan bed was actually pure white, probably because Erik believed her to be the purest creature to ever enter this place. The sheets were scarlet, as were the walls. Christine's closet was made of dark polished oak and when Lacey opened it, bright colored dresses fell onto her, knocking her over with their weight. Huffing, Lacey clawed through the layers of lace and silk and for the next 15 minutes she struggled to shove the dresses back in the closet. With a mighty shove, she finally stuffed the dresses inside only to sigh when pieces of silk poked through the door.

Lacey waved her hand in exasperation at the closet and left the room before the closet could really piss her off.

And, to her shock, the next room was Erik's. It was dark, with black walls, black furniture, and dark sheets. And she was saddened to see Erik's bed truly was a coffin. The only spot of color in the entire room was the white mask that lay on the nightstand. Lacey slowly walked over to the mask. With trembling hands she picked it up. As she did so, she felt her hand come up to touch her own white mask that covered her own deformity. And she cried-cried for Erik and all he had been through, knowing that she was going to expirience the same.

Then Lacey lifted her head and her sobbing ceased. She knew what her path was from here. She was the new Opera Ghost.

July 22, 2015 5:00 PM

For the past 3 hours Lacey cleaned her new lair, organizing the rooms to her taste, ridding it of the cobwebs, dust, and of course, the spiders and dead rodents. She made a mental note to ask Thalia if she could buy her a cat.

Now as she watched her friend leap across the stage, she judged every move her new managers made. Just like Messiours André and Firman, these two came from the scrap metal buisness and gained a large fortune from it. And, to her distaste, they had no experience in music whatsoever.

The lead soprano, Armonie Adorabella, was awful. She had the range, but her voice was like nails on a chalkboard. Lacey smirked when she saw stagehands stuffing earplugs in their ears.

The opera they were showcasing was Hannibal, which she deemed appropriate for her debut as the Phantom of the Opera. Lacey gripped her letter tighter as Armonie's voice climbed in pitch. She was sure her ears were bleeding, and she felt bad for Thalia. The poor redhead was the lead ballet girl and she was constantly standing near Armonie.

Monsiuer Reyer was a direct descendant of the conductor in Erik and Christine's time. He was an excellent conductor, but there were problems with the piece in general. There were sharps that would have fit better if they were naturals and the second trombone seemed to have an immense love of glissandos.

Lacey became distracted as Aromonie hit another high note. Unable to resist, she picked up the sword she had aquired in the catacombs earlier and cut the rope that held the backdrop. As she slipped back into the shadows, she grinned in savage delight at the screams on terror. She timed the drop perfectly. Armonie's legs were trapped beneath the backdrop, and she was pounding the ground with her fists angrily.

Lacey jumped up into the rafters as stagehands rushed to pull the screen back up. The managers watched them, but they seemed to focus on one specific man.

"Lefevre!" Monsieur Meilleur called. "What were you thinking?"

"As God is my witness, I wasn't at my post sir!" Lefevre shouted back. This was obviously the new Joseph Buquet. He smelled like alcohol and at his waist hung a canteen, most likely full of liquor or beer.

Lacey climbed down until she balanced on a beem directly above the managers. She squatted down and the second the white envolope fell, she sprung up onto the next beem. Many looked to see where the mysterious wax sealed note came from, but saw nothing but shadows.

With trembling hands Phillippe popped open the red skull seal and read aloud to everyone what the note.

My dearest managers,

Have you missed me good messieurs? It is true, I have indeed been gone for over 100 years, but the chains of Hell can only hold a Phantom for so long. Though, I must say, I look a bit different now. You may call me Phantomness, Opera Ghost, or Phantom (of the Opera), whichever you prefer. I do expect a payment of 40,000 francs, to be paid by return of post. Like always, Box 5 WILL be kept empty for me. I can do far worse now, than shatter a chandelier.

Your faithful servant,

O.G.

As Phillippe spoke, Lacey slid into the shadows of Box 5 and and watched in amusement as the people scurried around in fear. Armonie was running in fear and tripping over her own dress as she cried, "I quit! Until you get rid of this so-called 'Opera Ghost' thing, this thing," She pointed at herself. "Does not happen!" Meilleur and Phillippe ran after her crying "Madame, please, wait!" The Phantomness felt proud of the terror and chaos she had caused, but even prouder as she watched Thalia. Her friend was running around and screaming like the rest of the ballet rats, but Lacey could see she was fighting a smile and she kept glancing up at Box 5.

"Just WHAT do you think you're doing?" A voice growled from behind her. Lacey instinctively whirld around and flew at the voice. In a second she had her forearm on the intruder's throat and his body pinned to the wall. She didn't even notice that her entire body was pressed against his through the haze of her rage. Once the red fog cleared could she see him clearly. He looked like Erik.

July 22, 2015 6:30 PM

"Nice Cosplay." Lacey smirked him, but she had to admit, she was impressed with the attention to detail. The mask, eyes, clothing, and build were exactly as she imagined, just like the lair. Ice blue eyes, slick back hair, white mask, and a black suit. She didn't back off, but instead leaned in closer. "But did you really think you could get away with mocking ME, the Phantom? Tsk, tsk, monsieur. That was a very unhealthy decision on your part."

"What is Cosplay?" The man asked her in a French accent.

"Don't play stupid with me. You're obviously pretending you're the Phantom of the Opera, a.k.a, me." He shook his head.

"You don't understand. I am Erik." Lacey laughed dryly and pushed off him.

"Prove it." The man's hand flew to his mask and his eyes hardened.

"No. That is not an option. Why don't you remove YOUR mask?" Lacey hissed and her hands curled into fists.

"No one can ever see my face. Do you understand? This face is cursed. Those who lay their eyes eyes upon it die." A bit of an exaggeration, but enough to drive her point home. The man glared at her, his blue eyes cold and calculating. Then in one quick movement, he removed his mask.

On his face was the same exact demormity that now marred Lacey's face.

Lacey stared at him in wonder. How is this possible? Erik died. The Phantom caught her stare and scowled.

"What? Is this hideous face too disgusting for you?" Lacey's violet eyes darkened and she almost struck him. How dare he? They shared the same face and yet he dared to call HER hideous? Even if she was, it was still RUDE. She whipped off her mask and glared at him, daring him to call her hideous as well.

"How-how is this possible?" He seemed startled. Erik was staring at her in confusion and Lacey sighed. She had a lot of explaining to do.

"You've been gone for quite some time Monsieur Destler. I'll tell you all about it in my-sorry, our- lair." And the two Phantoms went down once more.

July 22, 2015 7:00

"I still don't see why you insist that I sit in the boat. I hurts my pride as a gentleman to let you steer the boat." Lacey smirked at his tone.

"Yeah, well, it would hurt my pride as a woman to let you. In the time you were dead, women gained a lot of freedoms. I was an American for the first 17 years of my life and because of that, I am still completely stubborn about everything, really. Whether they are my rights as a human or a woman, I do not care. I will fight till the bitter end to uphold them. 'Murica!" Erik shot her a look of complete and total confusion and Lacey's laughter echoed throughout the catacombs.

As they approached they lair, Lacey stopped the boat.

"Before we go into the lair, you should know that I made some changes to the place. Its going to look different. But I didn't touch your room, probably out of respect for my predecessor. So, just, don't freak out." As she rowed the gondola through the lake, Lacey gauged his reaction. Because he was the original Opera Ghost, she felt she had to live up to his example. His approval would mean a lot to her.

When the reached the portcullis she almost missed his command, "Sing." Without hesitation she bagan the warmups that Erik would have put Christine through.

As she sang, Erik felt his breath catch. Her voice...it so beautiful and unearthly...so much like Christine's. Each time this young woman paused -Lacey her name was- he begged her to continue, not quite ready yet to not hear her sweet voice. Then they were docked and Erik tore his gaze away from her to look at his old home.

He wouldn't have recognized the place save for the few items that were here when he lived in this place. The scarlet curtains had been opened, but in a way that made it look like the walls were painted red. His cluttered arrangement of drawing were taken down and either stacked neatly, or, to his surprise, in frames. The table that his model lay on had been pushed back to stand against the wall. His organ had been polished, the brass looking brand new. In the middle was an opening were a couch stood in front of a small coffee table and two chairs.

As he explored he saw that the room he had never bothered to use had been turned into a kitchen. A small chandelier hung proudly above the island. There were cabintes and drawers everywhere, full of pots and pans and devices he had never seen. There wered four appliences that were completely new to him. There was a large rectangular box that stored food and kept it cold. Another was a small box that had many numbered buttons and a light inside. The third was a smaller box that had four black circles on top. Erik didn't know what it was for, but he wasn't going to touch it. The fourth was a box of the same size and shaoe, but when he opened it, there was two racks that held dirty dishes.

When Erik turned to leave he saw Lacey leaning in the doorway with an amused expression on her face.

"What?" She just smirked and didn't say anything. Erik shook his head at her and left the room. Lacey was impressed. He was obviously a strong man and she knew of his violent tendencies and short temper. Yet, he was able to keep his cool with her sarcastic remarks and witty tongue. She followed the masked man as he went room to room and watched as his face became more and more surprised as he peered in each room. He didn't even look surprised when he he saw the guest room, which she had designed for Thalia.

Then, as though pulled there by an unseen force, he sat upon the bench of his organ.

"Sing." He comanded. Lacey obliged, singing a song that had been on her mind for a while.

I heard there was a secret chord.

David played and it pleased the Lord.

But you don't really care for music do you?

It goes like this,

The fourth, the fifth

The minor fall, the major lift,

The baffled king composing 'Hallelujah'

Hallelujah

Your faith was strong, but you needed proof.

You saw her bathing on the roof.

Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you.

She tied you to her kitchen chair,

She broke your throne and she cut your hair,

And from your lips she drew the hallelujah.

Hallelujah

Maybe I have been here before,

I know this room and I walked this floor

I used to live alone before I knew you

I've seen your flag on the marble arch

Love is not a victory march

It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah

Hallelujah

There was a time when you let me know

What's really going on below,

But now you never show it to me do you?

And I remember when I moved in you

The Holy Dark was moving too

And every breath we drew was hallelujah.

Hallelujah

Maybe there's a God above,

All I ever learned from love

was how to shoot somebody who outdrew you.

And it's not acry you can hear at night,

It's not somebody who's seen the Light!

It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah.

Hallelujah

Erik's normally stoic expression cracked-just for a moment- as he heard the raw pain in her voice. How could one as beautiful as her have been put through the same torture as him?

Lacey quietly padded forward to stand at Erik's shoulder. He stiffened at her prescense but didn't move away from her.

"Erik," she whispered. "Why are you here?" If possible he stiffened even more when her gentle hand laid on his shoulder. Then he began.

"I was dead, for quite some time. And, much to my surprise, I was in Heaven. It was magnificent. The streets were paved with gold and in the center of it all was a beautiful castle. I remember that it stood tall, and a light seemed to shine out from the inside. No one ever new what color it was, partly because the colors were constantly changing and partly because it would change into colors no one has ever seen before. If that were possible. And everyone was so...so happy. Even I was happy, left alone in my large home, where I could make my music."

"But you weren't alone. Were you?" It wasn't so much a question as a statement.

"No. After the mob ransacked the lair, I returned, hoping to salvage what I could. But I was greeted by a sight that shocked me to the core. Christine sat there on the floor, weeping over the mask that I had left behind. Curious, I hung back and watched her. Mon ange chéri cried out my name several times. But the thing that brought me out of the shadows was when she said, 'Come back to me Angel of Music! I love you! Don't leave me...please.'" he chuckled softly. "And I never could disobey a direct order from my Angel. So I walked forward and squatted in front of her trembling figure. She didn't notice me at first, but when she did she jumped back. 'Angel? No it can't be!' she cried. 'You died! I hold the proof here in hands!' I remember smiling at her and taking her hand.

"'Do I feel dead?" I had asked her. Christine had frowned but she didn't answer me. So I placed her hand over my heart. 'Do I feel alive to you now?' In an answer she lept into my arms, knocking me onto my back. And she kissed me, for the 3rd time that day. We were married later and soon after that, we tried for a child. Unly to find out later that Christine was barren. She shut me out for several days and when we did talk, the conversation was short and awkward. Then one day she came out from her room and looked at me with a new light to her eyes. 'I am done grieving for what I can never have.' Christine told me solemnly. From then on, we lived our days in peace, composing music and enjoying the other's company. We died one minute after the other. Her at 63 and I at 80."

I couldn't help but smile at his story. It was the fate Thalia and I had hoped for him, after all.

"Merde! I forgot about Thalia! She's going to kill me!"

So what did you guys think? I feel like this wasn't as ggood as the first chapter, so please, tell me what you think! I really appreciate it! :)

That's it for now!

I remain, your obedient servant,

~P.G