Chapter 1 – Burning Opera
The Opera Populaire was going down in flames. Somehow the criminal that the Vicomte de Chagny had tried to capture during the performance with help from the authorities had not only managed to get away, but had set the house on fire in the process as well. He had crashed the huge chandelier onto the stage to create a diversion, and in the ensuing chaos had escaped together with the young diva Christine Daaé.
While the last patrons and performers were still running from the burning building, tending to injured friends or colleagues or simply standing in the way of the firemen, Mme. Giry, the ballet mistress, was heading towards a small house in one of the suburbs. She was in a hurry. She hoped – prayed – that at least one of her charges would show up at her home tonight. If so, she had to be there to help them. She was worried sick about all her loved ones. "Please, God, protect them all, keep them safe, keep them alive," she murmured, while walking briskly. "If something bad happened to either of them because of my interference…"
She had no idea where her daughter Meg was at the moment. She had last seen her right after the chandelier had come down and Erik had disappeared with Christine. She had run into the Vicomte then and he had somehow convinced her to show him the way to Erik's home, his lair. Meg had offered to come with them, but Mme. Giry had told her to stay behind and assist with the evacuation of the building. She herself had pretty soon regretted her decision to help the Vicomte find his rival and had abandoned the young patron at the entrance to the cellars, claiming that she did not dare go any further. When she had returned to the stage level, Meg had disappeared. Somebody suggested she might be leading a group of gendarmes to the Opera Ghost's hiding place. But nobody knew for sure where she had gone.
Mme. Giry hastened along her way. It was not Meg that she was worried about most. Meg knew the Opera Populaire well. If she was still in the building, she would probably be able to find a safe way out. She was level-headed and would not get herself into a dangerous situation, and thanks to her well-trained dancer's body she would be able to escape the fire. Yes, there was a certain risk, but Mme. Giry was confident that at least Meg would get out of the roaring inferno unharmed.
She was not so sure about her other two charges, her surrogate daughter, the young diva Christine Daaé and her … Mme. Giry pondered for a moment what exactly Erik was to her: Friend? Protégé? Protector? He was all of that, but in a way he was also the younger brother she had never had.
Erik. She would never forget the day when she had first seen him, malnourished, emaciated, beaten, abused by a gipsy brute, forced to reveal his disfigured face to cheering audiences. She had pitied him then and had wanted to help him. By coincidence, that very same day the boy had killed his tormentor and she had not hesitated for a moment to help him hide from the authorities. She had brought him to the Opera Populaire where he had made a home for himself in the cellars. Antoinette Giry remembered those days clearly. Even though she had seen the boy kill a full-grown man she had never been afraid of Erik. She had made sure he had everything he needed and they had become quite close, almost like real siblings.
Antoinette smiled at the memory of her and Erik playing hide-and-seek in the corridors of the Opera Populaire all those years ago. He was a few years her junior, therefore he had only been in his teens when she met Jules Giry and started dating him. Her foster brother had felt neglected then, and one day, when she went down to the cellars to pay Erik a visit, he was gone. He left her a note saying that he understood she had somebody more important in her life now. He did not want to make her divide her free time between him and her young man and he was therefore leaving. He wished her all the best.
That had been all. Not one word about where he was going, no promise that he would write. Erik had completely vanished from her life then. She had not heard from him in over eight years. At first she had missed her foster brother terribly, but soon she had accepted his disappearance and concentrated on the new people in her life. She and Jules had married, their daughter Meg had been born and Antoinette had not had time to wonder about Erik's whereabouts. When she did remember him, she always hoped that he was well, though, and that one day he would come home.
For a few years Antoinette had been happy with her husband and daughter, then Jules Giry was involved in an accident and left her widowed at a fairly young age. Meg had been barely more than six years old at that time. It had taken her a few months to get everything settled, to find the job as ballet mistress so that she could support herself and Meg, and to have something to do that would take her mind off her loss. She was still fighting to get her life back on track when one morning she found a little note on her desk. "My condolences. If you need help, I am back. E."
There had been no doubt in her mind about who had written that note. She knew that handwriting. Her foster brother was home! Right at a time when she needed help. She felt a bit guilty for not having thought of him more often, but that day she anxiously waited for rehearsals to be over and for her daughter Meg to fall asleep so that she could venture down to the cellars of the Opera to meet Erik again.
She had collapsed into his arms and cried and cried. He, her dear, caring brother had comforted her and promised that he would help her and her daughter now like she had helped him when he had escaped from the gypsies. Only when she had calmed down a bit and looked at him closer had she realized how much he had changed. When she had last seen him he had been a lanky teenager, now he was a young man in his mid-twenties. He had grown and matured, but that was to be expected. What she was not prepared for was the haunted look in his expressive eyes, though. She shuddered. His eyes spoke of pain and suffering. She put her arm around his shoulder, as she had done so often when they had been children and asked him where he had been, what had made him come home now. Erik only shook his head. "Don't ask ever again, Antoinette," he said. "There are horrors in my past that I will probably never be able to put behind me. Terrible things have happened to me and I have done terrible things, too. But I am home now."
From that day on Erik had been there for her like a real brother. He had not only been a shoulder to cry on, he had supported her financially, helped her draft letters to authorities and given her advice in many areas. But despite his very active support she had noticed that her foster brother was far from well. He was suffering from nightmares again, more often and more violent than those after his escape from the gypsies. As a consequence, he never got enough sleep. As long as she needed him, he seemed to pull himself together for her sake, but once she began to appreciate life again, Erik more and more gave in to depression. Not only did he not sleep much anymore, he did not eat regularly either. Whenever she visited him, she found him brooding. He started to lose weight and she was really worried about him.
Around the same time a new student was admitted to the ballet dormitories, a seven-year-old orphaned girl, the daughter of a fairly well-known musician. Christine was only a few months older than her own daughter Meg, and the girl's large, sad eyes won Mme. Giry's heart immediately. She vowed to protect the little orphan and to try and be a mother to her.
Christine was devastated, though. She had loved her father, the Swedish violinist Gustave Daaé, very much. He had been the single most important person in her life. The only important person. But now he was gone. It was as if for her the world had come to an end. She could not imagine life without her dear papa, she did not even want to try. She felt as if he had betrayed her, abandoned her, somehow failed her. Little Christine spent hours, sometimes whole days, in the little chapel, where she lit candles for her father and talked to him. She barely ate and cried herself to sleep every night.
Mme. Giry soon understood that she had a second case of severe depression at her hands, when she had not even been able to deal with the first one yet. She worried about both, her brother Erik and her new surrogate daughter Christine, without being able to help either. Both her charges got thinner and paler every week, and nothing she tried to shake them out of their lethargy seemed to have any effect. She was preparing herself for the worst. She knew that both were reaching critical stages and that chances were high she would lose either one, probably both.
Then one day the miracle had happened. Somehow these two lost souls had found each other. The heart-breaking sobs of the child had spoken to the lonely man's heart. Her love for music and her desire to meet the "Angel of Music" that her father had promised to send to her once he'd be in heaven had suddenly opened new perspectives to him. By taking over the identity of this "Angel of Music" he would be able to care for her, to teach her. His life would have a purpose after all.
Christine, on the other hand, was overjoyed that her dear papa had not forgotten her, that he had sent her the promised angel after all. Under his guidance she not only studied music, he also soon became her most trusted friend with whom she discussed everything. Mme. Giry had been a bit concerned at first. She knew that Erik never showed himself to the girl, but she also knew that Christine would sooner or later want to see her friend. How would she react then? But when Mme. Giry saw how both her protégés suddenly regained interest in life and radiated happiness, she had been happy for them and decided not to worry about what might or might not happen one day.
As the years passed, the friendship between Erik and Christine had deepened and once the child had grown into a beautiful young woman, Antoinette Giry was not too surprised when Erik confessed he had fallen in love with his student. Since she had also noticed that Christine pretty much ignored all the young men, none of which could compare to her "Angel", she started to dream how wonderful it might be if these two hearts found a way to each other. She urged Erik to tell Christine the truth about himself. She was confident that the young woman would be able to forgive the angel-charade. Christine was growing up, she was not the naïve child anymore. She was beginning to suspect – to hope – that her angel might be a real person, a man she could love.
Erik had been hesitant to reveal himself to Christine. While he, too, hoped that Christine might forgive him for passing himself off as the Angel of Music for so long, he feared she might find his hideous face scary or even revolting. So he started sending Christine flowers – red roses, the flowers of love – and Mme. Giry witnessed more than once how much Christine cherished those simple gifts from her angel.
Then things had gone out of control. Erik had started playing tricks on the managers of the Opera Populaire and telling them how to run the theater. His methods of making them follow his orders did not always meet with Mme. Giry's approval, but she had to admit that the quality of the performances increased tremendously as a consequence.
Once Christine's voice training was complete, Erik wanted to get rid of the ageing diva Carlotta and see his beloved student promoted to that position. He finally succeeded and Christine was given the role of Elissa in Chalumeau's "Hannibal". She debuted to thunderous applause. After the performance Erik finally told Christine the truth and showed her his home. He had not intended to show Christine his face, but she had seen it nevertheless. Since at the same time the young, handsome new patron Raoul de Chagny recognized Christine as his childhood sweetheart and started to court her, Erik had been frustrated and jealous. He feared that the young Vicomte's pretty face might mean more to his Christine than their long friendship.
Christine had been overwhelmed. Too much was happening at the same time and she was not able to deal with all the new emotions. She suddenly was a diva, her angel was no angel but a hideously disfigured man about twice her age, her childhood sweetheart, whom she had not seen in years, was back in her life, and two men were competing for her affection. But Erik's nerves were frayed as well. When the managers ignored his orders and cast Carlotta as the Countess in the new production of "Il Muto", he overreacted terribly, interrupted the performance and somehow caused Carlotta to croak. That he killed the bothersome stagehand Buquet in self-defense that same night when the latter was stalking him in the rafters, did not help either.
Erik kept to himself after that disastrous night, and the Vicomte had seen his chance. Soon he and Christine became engaged. Christine seemed happy with him and Mme. Giry had to give up on her dream of Christine and Erik becoming a couple. Truth be told, after the recent events she was not so sure anymore that Erik would be a good choice for Christine. At the New Year's Masquerade Erik and Christine had seen each other again, and the way they had been looking at each other had made Mme. Giry wonder once again, who it was that Christine really loved. But even she had to admit that Erik's treatment of the managers was going way too far. He seemed to have lost all perspective.
The Vicomte was getting just as jealous. Her attempt to make him understand Erik's fate by telling him of his childhood in the gipsy camp had not had the desired effect. He had planned to ambush Erik during the opening night of Erik's own opera "Don Juan Triumphant" and he had somehow convinced Christine to act as bait. When the young woman agreed, Mme. Giry finally accepted that Christine's heart had chosen Raoul over Erik.
Of course Mme. Giry had warned her foster brother of the ambush. Despite everything she still cared for Erik. She had hoped that he would stay away, hidden in his lair in the middle of the subterranean lake. But that love-sick man had found a way to take center stage by somehow eliminating the tenor Piangi. He had courted Christine on stage once more, playing Don Juan to her Aminta, offering her his heart and begging for hers in return.
Christine had seemed to hesitate for a moment, but then she had ripped his mask off, exposing his pitiful face to the audience. The gendarmes had only then realized who the performer on stage truly was and had aimed at him, but Erik had crashed the chandelier for a diversion, thus setting the building on fire, and had escaped with Christine.
That was the last she had seen of the two. She suspected that Erik was taking Christine to his lair. But would the two be safe there? The house was brimming with gendarmes, and an angry mob was forming to hunt down the Opera Ghost and his prey. What if either group found them? What would they do to Erik? And Christine? Would she be safe if they found her with him? What about the Vicomte, whom she herself had basically sent after the two? Why on earth had she done that? What had she hoped to achieve by sending the young nobleman down to Erik's lair? It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but she was not so sure anymore. After all, the two men were rivals and both were rather jealous. What if it came to a showdown between them and Christine had to watch them kill each other? She was certain that Christine would never be able to forgive Erik if he killed her fiancé, but she had a feeling that Christine would not take it well either if her suitor killed Erik. If he killed, period. No matter who.
Why, oh why had she shown the Vicomte the way then? After all, she knew that Erik loved Christine and would never hurt her, not even after her betrayal. He would not force her into his bed either. Christine was safe with Erik. But Mme. Giry had had a feeling that he would not let Christne go. Ever. He would treat her well, but would not allow her to return to her fiancé and live the life she had chosen for herself. She had hoped that the Vicomte would somehow be able to pry Christine away from Erik. To free her.
The more she thought about it, the more she doubted she had done the right thing. A confrontation between the two men would not resolve anything and probably just make things worse. What if Erik was delayed by Raoul and he and Christine could not escape the mob and the gendarmes in time? What if either Erik or Christine were hurt? If Erik was caught?
She began praying again. "Please God," she sobbed. "Let them both get away unharmed. Keep them safe. I know they will both be traumatized and under emotional stress, but as long as they survive, their hearts and minds can heal. Erik will have to accept that Christine does not return his feelings and Christine will have to understand that he did all these things because he is heart-broken. Please, let Erik come to my house tonight. If he is still with Christine, let both find a safe haven at my home, if he has somehow let her go, let at least one of them come home, so that I may know what has happened. The uncertainty about their fate is killing me."