Chapter Seven
Rooftop Betrayal
I was heading back toward my lair when I heard the most peculiar thing through the wall. It was Christine. I knew that I was near her dressing room, but I didn't expect her to be there at the moment. "Raoul! Raoul!" she cried. She was searching for the Vicomte.
"Christine, come with me," came the Vicomte's voice. Obviously, she found him.
"No, to the roof," she said. "We'll be safe there." To the roof? I thought. The roof is the farthest part of the theatre away from my lair. She's going to tell the Vicomte something that she doesn't want me to hear, and I don't think I want to hear it. Nevertheless, I will meet them up there. I changed my course and made my way up to the roof. I made it there before them, and I hid behind one of the statues. Not long afterwards, Christine and the Vicomte arrived. Christine was holding the rose that I had given her in her hand.
"Why have you brought us here?" the Vicomte asked. "We must return."
"He'll kill me!" she cried. A sharp pain shot through my heart at this. "His eyes will find me there! Those eyes that burn!"
"Don't say that," he said, trying to calm her. "Don't even think it."
"And if he has to kill a thousand men," she continued, "the Phantom of the Opera will kill and kill again!" It's amazing how much your opinion of someone can change from a single action of theirs. She had gone from almost loving me to loathing me, and I hated it.
"There is no 'Phantom of the Opera!'" The naïve fool.
"My God, who is this man who hunts to kill?" Christine asked, tears running down her face. "I can't escape from him! I never will. And in this labyrinth where night is blind, the Phantom of the Opera is there, inside my mind…"
"Christine, the 'Phantom' is a fable. Believe me." He put his hand on her shoulder, but she turned and walked away from him, frustrated.
"Raoul, I've been there! I've been to his world of unending night. To his world where the daylight dissolves into darkness. Raoul, I've seen him!" She seemed utterly terrified. "Can I ever forget that sight? Can I ever escape from that face? So distorted, deformed, it was hardly a face, in that darkness." I sighed silently. If I had any control over my face, then it wouldn't look the way it does. It could strike fear in a blind man.
I wanted to leave and return to my lair, but I knew that I couldn't. I had to hear what she was saying about me. If she was going to continue with the same tone, I knew that staying would be difficult. Then, to my surprise, the tone in her voice changed. "But his voice filled my spirit with a strange, sweet sound," she told the Vicomte. "In the night, there was music in my mind, and through music my soul began to soar and I heard as I'd never heard before."
"What you heard was a dream, and nothing more."
"Yet in his eyes was all the sadness of the world. Those pleading eyes that both threaten and adore."
"Christine, Christine," the Vicomte said comfortingly.
"Christine," I echoed. I knew she heard me because she looked around, worried. She turned to face the Vicomte, who hugged her gently. My insides burned with anger.
"No more talk of darkness," he said. "Forget these wide-eyed fears. I'm here. Nothing can harm you. My words will warm and calm you. Let me be your freedom. Let daylight dry your tears. I'm here, with you, beside you to guard you and to guide you." He released her. She took a few steps away from him before turning to him again.
"Say you love me every waking moment," she said. The breath caught up in my chest. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "Turn my head with talk of summertime." I closed my eyes, trying to right back tears. "Say you need me with you, here, beside you. Anywhere you go let me go to. That's all I ask of you."
"Let me be your freedom." I wanted the Vicomte to shut his naïve mouth. "Let me be your light. You're safe. No one will find you. Your fears are far behind you."
"All I want is freedom," Christine continued, "a world with no more night, and you, always beside me to hold me and to hide me." As she said "a world with no more night," a tear ran down the normal side of my face.
"Then say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime. Let me lead you from your solitude. Say you need me with you, here, beside you. Anywhere you go let me go, too. Christine, that's all I ask of you."
"Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime." Christine had dropped the rose I gave her. "Say the word and I will follow you. Share each day with me, each night, each morning. Say you love me."
"You know I do," the Vicomte said.
"Love me. That's all I ask of you." They kissed, and I thought the pain in my heart would kill me. In fact, I wished that it would. "Anywhere you go let me go, too."
"Love me. That's all I ask of you." They kissed again, and Christine, all sadness gone, lead the Vicomte towards the door to the stairs.
"I must go," she said. "They'll wonder where I am. Come with me, Raoul."
"Christine, I love you."
"Order your fine horses. Be with them at the door."
"And soon, you'll be beside me."
"You'll guard me and you'll guide me." They went through the door, and I stepped out from behind the statue. I fell to my knees in front of the rose Christine had dropped. My arms felt leaden as I picked up the rose and gazed sadly at it.
"I gave you my music," I said, my voice barely above a whisper and shaking. "I made your song take wing, and now, how you've repaid me, denied me, and betrayed me. He was bound to love you when he heard you sing." I sobbed openly, unable to hold back my tears any longer. It was rather ironic that the one time that I had fallen in love, the one that I loved would chose another instead of me. I wondered if, with certain conditions, she might choose me after all. The thought gave me an idea.
I tore the soft petals off and the rose and dropped the stem before rising to my feet. "You will curse the day you did not do all that the Phantom asked of you!" I yelled to the starry sky. I knew what I was going to do, and I needed to finish "Don Juan Triumphant" to pull it off.