Confidences Shattered

Watching them together made the young man clench his hands. His short, well-manicured nails bit into his palms. There was something about it that ripped into him, like a consuming fire in his belly. Jealousy. He was jealous of this man who wore a mask! And who, by all accounts, was a fiend from hell. the monster who continually circled about his precious Christine like some cat circling it's prey.

Raoul did not know what had happened to Piangi, nor did he care inasmuch as it related to how the Phantom had gotten onstage. How?!!! There had been police stationed everywhere! There had been no conceivable way for the madman to sneak past the Suerte. How the hell had he done it?

But, even more upsetting, was the creature's effect on Christine. He had caught only a glimpse of her, mesmerized, at her father's grave. She had been drawn out of it easily. And the swordfight- it had taken all his strength and skill to force the Phantom down. He should have finished it then and there, like putting down a rabid dog. But Christine had stopped him, God alone knew why. He shouldn't have listened. She couldn't still be fascinated by the creature.

Now, with the all the guns of the Paris police force trained on him, the Phantom sang. And he fascinated them all. Christine sang with them and everyone, in the auditorium, and backstage stopped and listened to the Angel of Darkness and the Angel of Light. Raoul did not know whether she remained in the role of bait, but he feared that she had abandoned everything for this mad duet with a monster.

A thought dawned. He could stop this. With just a signal to to sharpshooter, he could end this travesty. But it died soon. He realized that Christine too would be in the line of fire. The Phantom must know that the police were there. He would be counting that they would not risk Christine. But he could not know that. And Raoul did not trust the marksman that much. He leaned down, watching them. And he noticed, how, strangely enough, the Phantom held her angled away from the pit, as if the madman had read his thoughts.

"He doesn't expect to get out of this alive," the young nobleman thought in amazement. "He knows what we've planned and that she is the bait. Yet still he came. Why?"

The song had finished and the Phantom moved to face Christine. The seduction of Don Juan was over, there was no doubt in anyone's mind that this was no opera tenor singing the part of the great lover. When he opened his mouth to sing again, it was as if silver tears dropped from his mouth... his soul laid bare for all to see.

"Lead me, save me from my solitude"

Women were openly weeping. Even Raoul, sitting on the edge of his seat, felt a twinge of pity for his rival.

Christine was weeping as well. She put her hand to his face, so gently. And tore the mask and wig from the his head. A rending cry of horror escaped his lips as he turned from her, blindly facing the audience. Raoul caught a glimpse and realized that Christine and Madame Giry had not exaggerated. He could indeed have been the 'devil's child'. The man with the twisted countenance heard the first screams and pulled his tormenter close to him, falling through a trap door that had not been part of the scene design. They disappeared from view and a sound, ominous in it's delicacy, drew attention. The chandelier, roughly two tons in weight, tinkled, fairylike as it whirled and danced. And it fell, like a constellation of falling stars, upon the screaming, hysterical folk in the floor seats.

Raoul stood, he had seen enough. He had to rescue her, no matter the cost to himself. He blamed himself for this disaster, but he would not abandon his love to that monster. He could never forgive himself for not believing her, and for underestimating his rival. He had to find them. Madame Giry would know...

OK, so it's fairly obvious that I don't have as good a grasp on Raoul as I do on certain other characters. Must come from being the high school outcast, and five years haven't purged those experiences. I guess I just have trouble getting into the popular kid's head.

But this is the last before the finale, which I'm currently working on. Yay for month-long winter breaks! It will be entitled "Timor Mortis Conturbat Me" and probably will include dialogue, and changes of point of view. And, of course, the Kiss. Au revoir, the 22nd approaches, and I fully expect to be in a Phantomy haze through New Years... Fondest regards,

K.S.