Disclaimer : I don't own any of the characters, they belong to Gaston
Leroux. Gerard Carriere belongs to Misters Yeston and Kopit. I make no
money out of this, it is purely for entertainment.
Sweden, eight years later.
Christine's point of view
Eight years, eight long years since that faithful night at the opera house. After the events on the roof, I let Raoul escort me back to my flat, but I wouldn't see him after that. I wanted to be alone
with my grief, with nothing to remind me of the dreadful events that had taken place. My hermitage was interupted by Monsieur Carriere's visit. He offered me to live with, saying how
lonely and in need of company he was. I was moved by his plea, and I accepted his offer. After all, that way we could talk about Erik to our hearts' content. We moved to Sweden a few months
after that, wanting to put as much distance between us and the Opera and Raoul. Gerard, he had asked me to call him by name, had bought a very lovely little house for us. The days went by
smoothly, our life patterns setting themselves into a relaxed routine. It was disturbed one day by a most unexpected visitor. When I thought of it, I felt I was incredibly foolish to think that he
would let anything hold us apart for long. It was so silly, those two were the best of accomplices in everything, how could they not have arranged it? Gerard had mastered the art of make-believe
years ago, a skill that made up for his abysmal aim, or so he said. A smile tugged at my lips as I made my way back home, to the man who became a second father to me, and to the one who
became my husband, Erik.
Author's note : Well, that's it. For those who had guessed the ending, not so congratulations, as it was pretty obvious. I still have to work on my mystery writing. I'm much better with emotion. Althouhg I'm a purist to some extend, OF COURSE I would never kill Erik, and OF COURSE I would never let Raoul get Christine. Not this time at least. Perhaps some day.
Many thanks to all those who reviewed. Read my other stories please. (no harm in a little self publicity)
Sweden, eight years later.
Christine's point of view
Eight years, eight long years since that faithful night at the opera house. After the events on the roof, I let Raoul escort me back to my flat, but I wouldn't see him after that. I wanted to be alone
with my grief, with nothing to remind me of the dreadful events that had taken place. My hermitage was interupted by Monsieur Carriere's visit. He offered me to live with, saying how
lonely and in need of company he was. I was moved by his plea, and I accepted his offer. After all, that way we could talk about Erik to our hearts' content. We moved to Sweden a few months
after that, wanting to put as much distance between us and the Opera and Raoul. Gerard, he had asked me to call him by name, had bought a very lovely little house for us. The days went by
smoothly, our life patterns setting themselves into a relaxed routine. It was disturbed one day by a most unexpected visitor. When I thought of it, I felt I was incredibly foolish to think that he
would let anything hold us apart for long. It was so silly, those two were the best of accomplices in everything, how could they not have arranged it? Gerard had mastered the art of make-believe
years ago, a skill that made up for his abysmal aim, or so he said. A smile tugged at my lips as I made my way back home, to the man who became a second father to me, and to the one who
became my husband, Erik.
Author's note : Well, that's it. For those who had guessed the ending, not so congratulations, as it was pretty obvious. I still have to work on my mystery writing. I'm much better with emotion. Althouhg I'm a purist to some extend, OF COURSE I would never kill Erik, and OF COURSE I would never let Raoul get Christine. Not this time at least. Perhaps some day.
Many thanks to all those who reviewed. Read my other stories please. (no harm in a little self publicity)