A/n: This is the second story in my "fill in" series, I guess you
could call it. My first was a passage of swiftly moving time, chronicling
what happened between the first and second acts of the musical. Please
enjoy and review!
"Don't go!" I shouted as Christine and the vicomte ran away, disappearing into the darkness of the cemetery. From my perch above Mr. Daae's mausoleum, I saw Christine trip over a tombstone, and the Vicomte hurriedly grab her and pull her back up.
"SO BE IT! NOW LET IT BE WAR UPON YOU BOTH!" They didn't stop running. I jumped off the mausoleum and began to go after them, knowing I could catch them and murder the boy in no time, but decided not to. I was too tired- lately I had always been too tired. I now knew why I had never let myself fall in love before. It was too taxing on my mind.
I turned to look at the intricate mausoleum erected in M. Daae's honor. For some reason, I had begun to feel a bit embarrassed about standing on top of his grave and firing upon his daughter's lover. I had also begun to feel a sort of connection with this man, another musically gifted man in Christine's life. It had really been a small wonder Christine had hoped me to be a father figure, and how horribly shattered she had been when she had discovered I was not another father for her-only a pathetic, disfigured man who loved her in quite a different way.
"No answer for her tonight, Monsieur?" I asked, glancing at the door. The tomb was deathly silent as was appropriate. Everything else in the cemetery was silent also. I began to feel uncomfortable in this sacred place, like a trespasser. I grabbed my hat from where it had fallen behind a bush. I was about to leave when I turned back to look at the mausoleum one more time.
"Good-bye Monsieur. I am deeply sorry." I didn't know what about, but something inside me told me an apology was necessary to this good old man, who had been the only man in Christine's life before I even knew of her existence. I hoped that in some way I had helped Christine fulfill some of her father's dreams for her. Feeling content with myself, I walked out of the cemetery and mounted the black horse I had borrowed from the opera's stables. It was a long trip back, but it was a strong horse. We should get to the opera just as the sun had begun to rise.
"Don't go!" I shouted as Christine and the vicomte ran away, disappearing into the darkness of the cemetery. From my perch above Mr. Daae's mausoleum, I saw Christine trip over a tombstone, and the Vicomte hurriedly grab her and pull her back up.
"SO BE IT! NOW LET IT BE WAR UPON YOU BOTH!" They didn't stop running. I jumped off the mausoleum and began to go after them, knowing I could catch them and murder the boy in no time, but decided not to. I was too tired- lately I had always been too tired. I now knew why I had never let myself fall in love before. It was too taxing on my mind.
I turned to look at the intricate mausoleum erected in M. Daae's honor. For some reason, I had begun to feel a bit embarrassed about standing on top of his grave and firing upon his daughter's lover. I had also begun to feel a sort of connection with this man, another musically gifted man in Christine's life. It had really been a small wonder Christine had hoped me to be a father figure, and how horribly shattered she had been when she had discovered I was not another father for her-only a pathetic, disfigured man who loved her in quite a different way.
"No answer for her tonight, Monsieur?" I asked, glancing at the door. The tomb was deathly silent as was appropriate. Everything else in the cemetery was silent also. I began to feel uncomfortable in this sacred place, like a trespasser. I grabbed my hat from where it had fallen behind a bush. I was about to leave when I turned back to look at the mausoleum one more time.
"Good-bye Monsieur. I am deeply sorry." I didn't know what about, but something inside me told me an apology was necessary to this good old man, who had been the only man in Christine's life before I even knew of her existence. I hoped that in some way I had helped Christine fulfill some of her father's dreams for her. Feeling content with myself, I walked out of the cemetery and mounted the black horse I had borrowed from the opera's stables. It was a long trip back, but it was a strong horse. We should get to the opera just as the sun had begun to rise.