The Return of the Angel of Music
Or
THE ANGEL LIVES!!!!!!!
Christine reviewed what she was about to do as she raised her foot to what felt like the zillionth stair. She hadn't spoken to Meg for two years, not since she had decided to stay with Erik. He wanted her to continue her career and further herself, but she had convinced him to let her take a holiday from the opera… in the opera.
They hadn't realized that time would fly past as it had, the next time she went upstairs a year had already passed and people had assumed her dead. Then again, it was never wise to make assumptions, particularly wherever Erik was concerned.
No matter, she would simply disprove all theorems they may have about her. Since her "disappearance" Meg had moved into her old dressing room; that figured into immense possibility for amusement.
Finally reaching the corridor behind the mirror, she saw the room from what seemed like so long ago. She'd been so naïve and immature then, she still would be if… She could look into the room as through any ordinary window, a very clean one.
Meg was brushing her hair out, humming the tune to one of the songs from the current opera, deja vu Christine thought to herself.
Erik had tried very hard to teach her the basics of ventriloquism but she had never been able to master anything but throwing her voice to sound as if it were inside someone's head. That skill was about to become extremely useful.
'Meg, it is time for you to hear from the Angel of Music!' she tried to boom; failing miserably, this was far more impressive when Erik did it. It worked nonetheless; Meg turned white, dropped her brush and fell off the chair. Standing again she called out her voice wavering.
'Who's there? If you heard the story I'm not Christine okay!"
'Yes, but I am.' The mirror spun on its pivot, showing Meg a million copies of herself and then Christine walking toward her, arms outstretched.
'Christine? Christine!?' she ran into her friend's embrace and hugged her with all her might, 'My God, Christine! You're alive! What's happened? Where have you been?' Meg gasped; she had been clutching Christine's hand and now came across her plain gold engagement ring and black onyx wedding ring.
'And who are you married to!?!' she looked up wonderingly at her friend. 'Two years ago Raoul came up from the cellars, marched straight for his brother and told him his arranged marriage was back on. I was a guest at their wedding! Who are you married to!?'
'You're not going to believe me, so I will tell you the whole story… From my position.'
* * *
It had taken several hours, a lot of gasps and out cries, but Meg finally knew the truth, all of it. And was semi-used to the idea.
'After our somewhat unorthodox ceremony when I came back… He made love to me and I left thinking he was dying… I was pleasantly surprised however and we were married in a chapel by a young priest in the dead of night.' Meg stared at her in silence for a long time, and after another's hour of conversation she collected herself enough to act as though it was quite natural for her best friend to be the wife of the fearsome Phantom.
'I'm really glad you decided to come Christine, I've needed someone to talk to. My mother… she's unwell.'
'How do you mean?'
'She's always exhausted, out at odd hours and is constantly mumbling about someone called Richard. I worry about her. Whenever I ask her what the matter is she puts an arm around me and says "Your poor father, your poor father." Over and over.'
'I thought your father was dead…'
'He is, perhaps she is missing him…'
'Did you ever think that he's alive and she saw him?'
'Not possible.' Christine raised an eyebrow,
'Impossible?' she laughed.
'I have a feeling you'll say a lot of things I don't understand from now on…' Meg muttered darkly.
Raoul cowered in fear as the mist swirled and licked in wisps at his legs, wanting to sallow him up while the shadow loomed over him with a leering posture. The air grew heavy as the apparition's face neared Raoul's; It seemed to have an atmosphere of Its own, one of cold icy contempt but at the same time one of hot stench. The stench of death. The fearsome figure threw Its arm back, as It did so a knife becoming apparent in Its hand. The shade looked up at Its weapon, Its cowl falling back from its head as It did so and Raoul screamed in horror as he saw the face within. It smiled at his expression of terrified disbelief and began the motion of plunging Its heavy dagger into his gut when clammy and disquieted: Raoul woke up. Beside him his wife Vanessa stirred, awoken by his high pitched shriek.
* * *
Christine walked with a contented bounce in her step and an enormous grin on her face through the halls of the opera. Suddenly attacked by a gust of cool air, she turned to see her black-swathed lover materialize out of the darkness.
'What are you doing up here, even with no one about?' he asked with a hint teasing in his unearthly beautiful voice. She giggled as he swirled her into his arms, supporting her while she swung like a drunkard in his embrace.
'Well today I marched straight into that manager's office and you know what I said? I said "Gentlemen, it is high time you hired a new Prima Donna!" and their respective countenances fell to their highly polished shoes! Oh Erik it was jolly funny, you'd have loved it! So I sang for them again and they prepared a contract (here it is) and all I have to do is sign it!' he burst out laughing.
'That's glorious darling! We must celebrate those incompetent fools finally recognizing talent! My dear, I salute you!' and he did.
She grinned in a most malevolent manner, reaching up to flick the edge of his mask so it sat higher on his face then it was meant to; exposing his lips for easier access.
'Aren't you going to congratulate me properly?' she questioned provokingly, throwing her arms out to the sides and leaning far back over his arm.
'Oh forgive me!' he cried with mocking passion and a laugh as he bent to claim her welcoming lips. The kiss lasted a long time and their silent observer, the only person beside themselves in the opera that night fell against the wall he'd been hiding behind and slid down it, hugging his knees to his chest and rocking slowly.
Not being able to resist the spy peaked around the corner again: Erik broke the kiss and bumped his mask back down into place with a grin. Christine straightened laughing, then frowned at him.
'I don't know why you have the cursed thing on anyway, there's no one here…' she smiled, 'Just us.' He eyed her with a wary half smile,
'Some among us still believe in caution.'
'Yes, and some dwell in it.' A look of amused indignation crossed his face, then an expression rendered unreadable by the mask.
'Nadir was right about you!' she raised an eyebrow at his laughing tone.
'Why, what did he say?' she asked suspiciously.
'That living with me was making you intolerably like me, that is, awfully foreword.'
'Is that good?' she inquired smugly.
'That depends on how you look at it doesn't it?' she nudged him as he smiled crookedly. He caught her and kissed her shoulder briefly, making for the passage. 'I think I have some champagne at home.' The side of his white mask was visible and luminescent in the dark for a moment as he glanced at her, 'Are we celebrating?'
'Do we really need the champagne?' Raoul could feel the look of amused surprise she was receiving for her uncivil implication, but the secret door closed and he heard no more.
A few silent moments passed and he rose with a strange sheen in his twitching right eye.