The Phantom of the Night

I do not own the rights to anything here

Three Spirits

Part Two

A young man with short red hair and green eyes sat in the staff changing rooms of a ballroom looking at the vial of clear liquid in his hand. He had to do it. It was for The Greater Good. The Greater Good. Three simple words which justified all of this. He had been so nervous about this but he knew it had to be done. If he killed the criminal he'd rally others to do the sane and then it would topple everything wrong with the world. Nervously he stood up and walked towards the kitchens and his destiny.

...

Scrooge sat in the back of the car looking out of the tinted window at the crowded streets. He didn't enjoy parties and he crtainly didn't enjoy being forced to go to them. He wanted to get the deal done and then go back to London. Eventually the car pulled up outside the ballroom where the party was being held. The driver opened the car door and Scrooge stepped out and, ignoring some members of the press who wanted to get a picture of him, and walked straight into the large ball room. Mirrors lined the walls and over a dozen waiters walked around the room carrying trays of drinks while a table covered by food stood by a wall. A massive number of people, mostly exacutives from Chagny industries with their wives, girlfriends or whoever they could afford to bring. As soon as he entered the room he was greeted by Charles Chagny, the owner of the company and his wife Constance.

'Welcome Mister Scrooge,' Charles said as he shook Scrooge's hand. 'How was your flight?'

'Not bad,' he answered. 'Got delayed though.'

'Because of the Phantom?' Constance enquired.

'Yes because of that freak. I heard that he's back here again and I would like to get back to London before he wrecks something else.'

'In fairness it was Hyde who was responsible for all the chaos in London,' added the voice of Christine as she walked towards them with Raoul behind her. Both were wearing their best clothes to "welcome" Scrooge.

'No offence Miss?'

'Daae. Christine Daae.'

'No offence Miss Daae but it's common knowledge and sense that the only reason "supervillians" exist is because of those masked lunatics who answer to no one. At least Saint George actually has someone to control him. The rest should all be locked up in a lunatic asylum.'

'And the sooner the Phantom retires the better,' Raoul said before Christine could do anything to annoy him.

'Retires young man? I think my ideas for an asylum are better. Enough of my taxes go to them anyway.'

'Drink sir?' a waiter with short red hair and green eyes asked him and offered a tray with one glass of wine.

'Might as well,' Scrooge agreed, took the glass and drank. 'Anyway, getting off lunatics,' he said as he turned towards Charles and Constance, 'I'm glad you offered me the chance to co-finance your plasma reactor. It should be most profitable.'

'And it will be very helpful for the people of France. A constant source of energy which will never run out.'

'Mister Chagny, you know that my concerns are only with the numbers. What matters is the, is the,' Scrooge coughed a little as he touched his chest.

'Are you alright Mister Scrooge?' Charles asked him.

'Just a cough,' he answered as it got worse.

Scrooge clasped his hand around his throat as he bent over, dropping his glass as coughs tore through him.

'Mister Scrooge!' Charles shouted as he grabbed Scrooge by the arm to steady him.

Scrooge went limp as he fell to the floor and horrid retching sounds croaked from his mouth.

'VICTORY!'

A gunshot tore through the air and someone screamed. The waiter who served Scrooge the drink held a Colt.45 in his hand and had fired into the guests, clipping a young woman in the shoulder. Christine and Raoul shared a quick glance before, together, they charged across the room at the gunman, Christine kicking off her high heals as she ran. Raoul had to push one guest out of the way before he took off his own jacket and threw it through the air at the gunmans face. In the second it took for the gunman to throw the jacket off of him Christine struck him in the face with a puch to the face which broke his jaw. Raoul the grabbed the man by his gun arm and with a hard puch snapped the arm at the elbow. The gunman screamed as Raoul and Christine wrestled him to the floor. At last the security guards arrived and they arrested the attacker.

'I win!' the gunman shouted. 'Scrooge faces his deamons and then he'll die!'

'What have you done?' Raoul shouted as Charles and Constance, with Raoul's older brother, Philippe, appeared behind him.

'Spirits,' he answered. 'Three Spirits.'

'Christ,' Raoul hissed as he hurried to Scrooge who was on the floor, his eyes glazed over and his whole body shivered. 'Call an ambulence!'

...

'Three Spirits is a drug,' Raoul explained to Christine as they walked back into their home. 'It puts whoever takes it into a coma and they see halucinations that scare the shit out of them. Vandire used it on his victims.'

'Will he recover?' Christine asked him.

'No. The only cure's an illegal drug. The doctors can't help him.'

While Raoul walked into the kitchen Christine stopped in her track as an idea spread through her mind.

'I know who can help him,' Christine said as she hurried into the kitchen after Raoul.

'Who?' he asked.

'Erik,' she answered and, before Raoul could argue with her, she explained. 'He knows every drug on the streets. If there's anyone who can find the cure it's him.'

'Why would he help?'

'Becuase we'll ask him nicely,' Christine told him. 'If Scrooge dies the Plasma Reactor will never get built. Erik's our only chance.'

Raoul knew she was right. Reluctantly he walked into their room and got his car keys.

...

'Will he recover?' Cratchit asked the doctor as he stood by Scrooge's bedside.

'No,' the doctor answered. 'The best we can do is keep him comfortable.'

Cratchit looked at his employer on the bed. He was hooked up to all of the machines and he was only breathing with the help of a machine.

'Does he have any family?' the doctor asked Cratchit.

'A nephew,' Cratchit answered him.

'Do you have a way to contact him?'

'Of course,' Cratchit answered as he pulled his diary from his pocket. 'My son works for him. Here you go.'

He handed the doctor the diary and pointed at the number of Fred Holywell.

'I'll make sure he is contacted.'

'He's probably already heard about it,' Cratchit said as he slumped into his chair. 'Of all the times of year for this to happen.'

'Atleast the police have the man,' the Doctor said as he patted Cratchit on the shoulder.

'It won't help,' Cratchit commented. 'All we can do now is pray.'

...

'Why do you have a key?' Raoul asked her as they walked through the dark and silent lobby of the theatre.

'Erik gave it to me years ago. I never got rid of it.'

They quickly walked down a corridor and reached Eriks office. Raoul grabbed the door handle and pushed it but it didn't budge.

'Damn,' Raoul complained.

Christine pulled another key out of her pocket, they'd changed into more practical cothes before leaving for the theatre. She unlocked the door and they both quickly walked to the rooms mirror and Christine pressed her hand against the scanner. A moment later the mirror opened and they walked down into the labyrinth beneath the theatre. Raoul led the way and Christine found herself going back to long ago.

...

'What was this used for Erik?' the nineteen year old Christine asked Erik as he led her through the tunnels for the first time.

'I think it was a resistance base during the Nazi occupation.'

'Cool,' Christine commented. 'Why have you brought me here?'

'To show you something,' he answered.

'Show me what?' she asked nervously as they stepped up to the edge of the underground lake.

'You'll see,' he answered as he led her onto the metal slab. When they started moving forwards Erik looked at Christine. 'How long have I been training you to fight?'

'What? Oh, erm, nine years I think.'

'Did you ever wonder where I learned my skills?' he asked her.

'Years of training right?'

'You could say that. I travelled to India and learned how to fight, along with a few other little skills. I'm going to show you how I perfected my skills.'

As they glided across the water Christine stared with some nervousness at the bones adorning the walls, especially the skulls which glared at her with their empty sockets. The dim lights in the tunnel cast long shadows which crept over her and Erik. Looking into the black water around them Christine nervously wondered about how deep it was.

'What would happen if I fall in?' she asked him.

'You'd go through a few feet of water and then crash into a floor covered with bones.'

'So it's not deep?'

'No.'

Christine turned her eyes ahead of her, in the direction the metal slab was traveling, and she saw a dead end ahead of them.

'Erik what's going on?' she asked.

'Everything's fine,' he assured her and, as he spoke, the rock wall started to move upwards and a cascade of white light flooded from the space behind.

...

'This is freezing,' Christine grumbled as she and Raoul trudged through the water.

The metal platform wasn't at the waters edge when they arrived so they had to wade through water which reached their waists.

'Thank God we decided to change,' Raoul commented as they came up to the wall of rock leading into thr base.

'Erik!' Christine shouted as she knocked on the wall. 'Erik open up!'

'Erik!' Raoul shouted.

'Phantom!' Christine yelled.

There was nothing. They stood in the freezing water waiting for anything, even a whisper.

'Maybe he's not here,' Christine suggested herself.

As she said that the wall shook and it began to slowly lift up out of the water.

'Welcome home,' the voice of Erik called out of the darkness.

AN: Well what do you think? I know Christmas has been over for a while now but the Christmas Truce in WW1 lasted until January the tenth in some places.

So I got a lot of stuff done in this chapter and I'll post the next one as soon as I can. Just remember that I'm doing mock exams right now *groans* so my writing is taking a bit of a back seat.

See ya around.