All the Point of View - Chapter 15

A/N: The long awaited new chapter is finally here! Once, I have decided what to do! Readers who want to see the ending changed, I have added another chapter. But those readers who don't want change (or don't want to risk reading something in which I, a thorough Erik/Christine supporter, may have ruined the ending!) can just finish reading this chapter and the story will be, at long last, over! (Oh, yes, might I add that I'veadded Journey of the Mask to my list of books read on the Phantom?)Ah, yes, one more detail. Concluding Chapter 13 I have used some lines from"Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again" and I have added to themsomething of my own. But it seemed very fitting. *L*

Chapter 13
Incoming

"Where is the murderer?"

I instantly realised that there had been a mob formed that was approaching readily. What was I to do? Christine had kissed me - so that mustbe her choice - but would it be right for me to keep her here, to confineher in my world? The darkness may have been my best friend, but it wasn't hers, and she was much younger than me. She had her whole life ahead of her.

Christine was looking around her uncomfortably as the mob came closer, their hard footsteps getting nearer each second, more guns cocking each moment. What to do now. . . .

I turned to Raoul. For a tense moment, I waited, then I decided to free him. Christine loved him, that was obvious, and not me. I pulled the noose around his head and put it back in my pocket.

Christine looked over at me as if asking for permission, and I nodded, though I knew my eyes were saying exactly the opposite. She ran over to the boyand embraced him. I couldn't bear to watch it, even if it was my decision.

"Where is the Phantom of the Opera?"

"He's here, the Phantom of the Opera!"

"Keep searching!"

"We'll not leave till we find him!"

I turned back to Raoul and Christine. I winced. "You'll haveto forgive me, my dear Christine, if I cannot stand the sight of you andtheboy cuddling like that. However. . . ." I drew a long breath. "You're free to leave."

I gazed pointedly at the boy. "Take her, Monsieur le Vicomte, and go. You may use my boat. Please, monsieur. Go." I shooed them away. "I don't want you to be here when they come. . . ."

They were reluctant in the confusion, but by the time I began to chase them, they left hurriedly enough. My music box turned on as if on cue. I kneltbeside it to sing along with its tune.

"Masquerade. . . paper faces on parade. Masquerade. Hide your faceso the world will never find you." I sighed. That was what I'dbeen doing my whole life. . . hiding . . . hoping that the world would stayback and I could live in peace. Hiding my face because of its hideousness,hiding from society out of anxiety, fear, and hatred towards humanity.

I heard footsteps behind me and I turned. My heart beat faster, my breathing quickened, and my spirits lifted. It was - her. It was Christine. She had come back!

She slid the ring off her finger and held it out to me. I wilted.

As I took it from her, I whispered, "Christine - I love you. . . ." I figured she already knew that, but I had nothing else to say and I wanted her to know if by some chance she didn't. I was the worst I'd been in years. Since Christine was leaving my life forever, what was thepoint in living on? I could die peacefully, here in my lair, hidden in Christine's room, or I could die messily or painfully, either one, by the mob's hands (then who'd be the murderer?) and I would not mind. But I decided to stay for a little while first. I could at least watch her go.

"Look for paw prints," said a voice of the oncoming mob. A few of the others laughed, most of them groaned, and even fewer ordered for silence.

I heard Raoul and Christine singing their duet. The mob was getting closer. Christine was getting farther away. The beautiful Christine. . . was nownot just out of my reach, but out of my life forever, to live on only inmy memories, none of which would be comforting; even the kiss would be ruinedby the remembrance she had only done it as a bribe.

I felt tears in my eyes as I sang to Christine the last words of mine she'd, and probably everyone else, ever hear. "You alone can make my songtake flight—" I had to pause for a moment, since sobs were threatening to overcome me in the middle of my last words. "It's over now: the music of the night. . . ." I broke off the last note, choking.So saying, I walked to my throne, sat down and wrapped my cloak around me.Iwas feeling awfully cold, and the cloak wasn't helping. Perhaps myheart really was as cold as my hands. I was just so cold. . . . Andwas I tired. . . .

The mob was climbing over the portcullis and were starting to pour into my house. I covered myself completely with my cloak, thinking one last thought.

I left my mask on my lap. I felt no need to wear it, now that I had no reason to live and no one would be seeing me again. It had been my lifelong prison. . . .

My last thought was of Christine. I had sung my final song, but in my head was my true last song.

Dreaming I could hear your voice,
Though silently I wish to die.
Try to forgive, teach me to live . . .
Give me the strength to try!
Back to solitude, back to my despair,
Underground, where no one can stare. . . .
Everyone's living but me—I ask myself, "Why?"
My final words are let off on a sigh—
Silently sing them, a tear in my eye—
Christine, help me say goodbye. . . .

I slipped through a trapdoor in the back of my chair and snuck into Christine's room.

I closed my eyes and let myself fall back on the bed.

(Readers, to satisfy some and allow others to go on, I have concludedthis in two ways. Those who would like to go on can await my next chapter[sorry :p]. Those who would like the show to end as it is, do not continue.)

THE END