My First Phanfic
Please have mercy
The Hatred of Raoul
George Smillie
CHAPTER ONE: THE CURSE OF A TERRIBLE BEGINNING
"Wonderful Christine." Erik clapped his hands together silently from Box 5. He yawned softly, observing her and the rest of the dancers from his spot. He hadn't slept for days, and he wouldn't be too upset when this damned opera was finished. Although she was a beautiful singer, she could try Erik's patience, and had been doing so even more than usual since rehearsals for the Opera House's performance of 'The Marriage of Figaro.' Again Erik yawned. Erik wasn't exactly Mozart's number one fan. "Why wont Mozart just stay dead?"
"Dancers, crap as expected. I want to see some improvement. Christine . . . reasonable, but something is missing. Something seems to be troubling you girl." Madame Giry tapped her cane on the stage to catch Christine's attention. "What's wrong dear? You seem worried." Christine shuffled her feet nervously and twirled a lock of brown hair around her finger. "It's that Carlotta bitch isn't it? That evil toad! She should be shot I say! Shot! I always said that that woman was bad ne-" "Madame Giry it's not that. Please calm down." Giry stared at Christine. "Then what is it? It's not that awful Phantom bastard is it- cause if it-" "Please Madame shut up!" Giry made an odd noise, sort of like a cross between a duck and a cheep hooker with soars on his face. "I beg your pardon?" Christine rolled her eyes. "Never mind." And with that, she grabbed Giry's cane, and pushed her over onto the floor. "Stupid goat. No . . . what was it that Erik said? Stupid horsie? Oooh I do so love horsies! Maybe Erik will buy me one!" She bounced of stage and headed for Box 5.
Erik sighed. He had watched the entire conversation, and had been impressed by Christine's accomplishment of 'semi' complicated sentences, up until the 'horsie' part. She was beautiful, but she was indeed, an airhead. Before Erik could continue, the Box doors burst open. Without turning around Erik said calmly, "welcome Christine." Christine pulled a face. "I was hoping I had scared you." Erik rolled his eyes. "My love, I have had my face massacred, been hunted by murderous mobs, and have seen Raoul face to face. I fear that you may not be able to accomplish your extravagant target of filling my already dark soul with fear simply by banging on a door and im sorry I had to say that it was not meant in that sense at all my dear." Christine stared at her mentor blankly. "Of course you are sweetie. Now how about that horsie?"
Please have mercy
The Hatred of Raoul
George Smillie
CHAPTER ONE: THE CURSE OF A TERRIBLE BEGINNING
"Wonderful Christine." Erik clapped his hands together silently from Box 5. He yawned softly, observing her and the rest of the dancers from his spot. He hadn't slept for days, and he wouldn't be too upset when this damned opera was finished. Although she was a beautiful singer, she could try Erik's patience, and had been doing so even more than usual since rehearsals for the Opera House's performance of 'The Marriage of Figaro.' Again Erik yawned. Erik wasn't exactly Mozart's number one fan. "Why wont Mozart just stay dead?"
"Dancers, crap as expected. I want to see some improvement. Christine . . . reasonable, but something is missing. Something seems to be troubling you girl." Madame Giry tapped her cane on the stage to catch Christine's attention. "What's wrong dear? You seem worried." Christine shuffled her feet nervously and twirled a lock of brown hair around her finger. "It's that Carlotta bitch isn't it? That evil toad! She should be shot I say! Shot! I always said that that woman was bad ne-" "Madame Giry it's not that. Please calm down." Giry stared at Christine. "Then what is it? It's not that awful Phantom bastard is it- cause if it-" "Please Madame shut up!" Giry made an odd noise, sort of like a cross between a duck and a cheep hooker with soars on his face. "I beg your pardon?" Christine rolled her eyes. "Never mind." And with that, she grabbed Giry's cane, and pushed her over onto the floor. "Stupid goat. No . . . what was it that Erik said? Stupid horsie? Oooh I do so love horsies! Maybe Erik will buy me one!" She bounced of stage and headed for Box 5.
Erik sighed. He had watched the entire conversation, and had been impressed by Christine's accomplishment of 'semi' complicated sentences, up until the 'horsie' part. She was beautiful, but she was indeed, an airhead. Before Erik could continue, the Box doors burst open. Without turning around Erik said calmly, "welcome Christine." Christine pulled a face. "I was hoping I had scared you." Erik rolled his eyes. "My love, I have had my face massacred, been hunted by murderous mobs, and have seen Raoul face to face. I fear that you may not be able to accomplish your extravagant target of filling my already dark soul with fear simply by banging on a door and im sorry I had to say that it was not meant in that sense at all my dear." Christine stared at her mentor blankly. "Of course you are sweetie. Now how about that horsie?"