Monsieur Brightside Chapter 3: Take It Away, a phantom of the opera fanfic

Mr. Brightside
by
IChooseTheScorpion

Disclaimer: Well, I know Gaston Leroux isn't reading this, unless they have internet access where dead peoples' souls go (if there are such things as souls, and assuming religion isn't just a manifestation of the human mind created to deal with the thought of death and non-existence...), and I'm going to go out on a limb here and assume that Susan Kay isn't a huge phan/fanfiction reader. I know for a fact that Andrew Lloyd Webber is in the process of bitching out Joel Schumacher for totally jacking up his awesome musical and making it into a realtively good movie that at times had bad singing and was a cheesefest. Feel free to leave me a lovely review about how you disagree with that opinion: it'll make the numbers go up. Yeah, I totally on Phantom of the Opera! Erik is mine for having wild, orgasmic sex with every night of the fcuking week.

Summary: Not EOW in a romantic sense at all...just enough for our lovely O.G. to have an equally lovely son, who falls in love with possibly the most obvious of women. But daddy doesn't like the thought of his flesh and blood in a relationship with what should have been his own progeny. SK, GL, and ALW combined.

A/N: Hi! I have a buncha pen names, including Padfootz-luvr, Sugarcult Babe, and CapnJacksBonnieLass, but this is my first story under this particular one. This phic is based of of the plot of ALW, with that Erik's half-mask, but underneath it he is all SK and GL-ish. Nadir is in it, and the whole SK scenario is totally into play, just not anything after Erik is all in his lil Opera home underground and falls in love with Miss Cheating BitchSlutWhoreTramp DaaÃ© (jk, I kinda like her...sometimes...). Monsieur Le Fantome has fallen into this sort of...twisted...whore-ridden...sex-fest of drugs and stuff, but then he leaves France for a little bit. He returns...but his fav courtesan has had his kid. Read to find out more and I swear I will share Erik on Mondays and Wednesdays when I have play practice.

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Get down
Get down

I'm lying to myself
And this dagger's my excuse
I'm appalled
I should have paid up
And I left an hour late
I was laid up

I must abuse myself
I'm against all that I've made up
Set in stone the sun will come
And I hate light
You know I hate light
Don't make it look so pretty burning

Burn the sun
Burn the light
Take take take take take take it away
Take my hand
Take my life
Take take take take take take it away

I must have caught something
In the heat of all these dances
I'm a worm with no more chances
And I've lost all doubt
In a chemical romance

I guess I'm bitching
At the thoughts of tarnished hope
It's kind of funny
The only feeling
I'm not in love
You know it's not love
Don't make it look so pretty burning

Burn the sun
Burn the light
Take take take take take take it away
Take my hand
Take my life
Take take take take take take it away

Brothers and sisters
I'm right here with you
Cause everyone's got oneI started to kill me
I'm so apathetic in my resentment
Living, loving, knowing this... in my resentment

Take my hand x8
Take my life
Take my heart take my mind
Take my life take my life

Burn the sun burn the lights
Take take take take take take it away
Take my hand take my life
Take take take take take take it away
Burn the signs burn the lights
Take take take take take take it away
Take my hand take my life
Take my life
Take my life
Take my life

"Take My Life" by The Used

Chapter Three:
Take It Away

Aurore opened her eyes, looking around the familiar room, dazed. What had happened?

She remembered feeding the younger children a tiny bit of stale bread: the last of the food. Marq had come in, but without any of the food and money he was constantly promising to bring. They fought, he stormed out, and then she had tucked most of her siblings into bed (many of them shared a singular sofa or mat of straw wrapped in a moth-eaten cloth or blanket.).

Then a knock at the door, and her anonymous "employer", and him taking her to some vaguely familiar building...but Aurore was unable to see what it was in the dark. Not to mention that this yet unnamed man was fiercely bruising her lips with his own, occasionally moaning "Christine" into her mouth, making it absolutely impossible to tell where they were or where they were going.

Then he had begun to take her underground. How? Aurore did not know. She was disoriented at the time; all she knew was that there was a sudden absence of all light and it became very cold. Of course she had pulled back, suddenly very claustrophobic and aware of the walls and ceiling pressing heavily in on them.
Aurore closed her eyes, suddenly the memory of the night coming back to her in a rush of sound and feeling...

FLASHBACK

But then, after she felt the claustrophobia enclose around her at the though of being pressed in on, she heard it: out of the darkness, came the most beautiful, entrancing, unearthly sound she had ever heard in her life, or even dreams. The pure, hypnotic notes swelled all around her and through her, filling her heart with desire and luring her towards the sound without resistance. Then they stopped. And so did Aurore. She could hear the man in front of her, breathing heavily, and realized it was from he that the music was emanating.

How could such a beautiful song, such a beautiful, unearthly sound (it didn't even seem like a sound, really...more like an absolute feeling of ecstasy and promise of more) flow from a human's lungs and throat? How was it possible that this man, this controlling, temperamental, obsessive man that seemed to be constantly teetering along the brink of insanity and explosive anger, how was it possible for such a sound, such feeling and emotion (both of which he seemed to completely lack except for when he would say Christine's name, or in one of his fits of evanescent wrath) to be produced from such a man, such a complete-

"Monster..."

"What did you say" his beautiful voice hissed.

Aurore froze, not realizing she had muttered the word that was whirring through her brain out loud.

"N-nothing, Monsieur" she stammered.

"Liar" he growled. "You said 'monster'..." And then, unexpectedly, he laughed. But it was like no laugh she had ever heard before: it carried the tune of a demon, a terrible contrast to the angelic sound he had been exhibiting mere seconds before. It carried no real humor, just an ironic sense of disbelief and anger, and a tiny bit of underlying sadness...maybe even disappointment.

Abruptly, he slammed her against the hard, stone wall. It was damp and rough, but Aurore was so frightened that she didn't notice. This man, this said monster, was now proving worthy of such a term as he pulled Aurore's arms up with grueling intensity and strength.

Aurore heard her own whimper of pain and fright, as though from very far away, as is she was a third person looking and watching the scene unfold. Closing her chocolate-colored eyes tightly, the young woman envisioned what the pair of them must look like: an almost unbelievably tall, lithe man with catlike grace and movements crushing a much smaller, wisp of a lady against a stone wall in a moist, pitch-black corridor. Moreover, the man was wearing an impeccable, fine suit, very much contrasting the ratty, threadbare dress that the woman was wearing. Not to mention the tiny fact that the man was wearing a mask. And then, almost smiling to herself, Aurore realized that an onlooker wouldn't be able to see this unorthodox scene in such darkness.

"You would not believe how many times I have been called that in my life, my dear" the flawless, inhuman voice stated in her ear.

Aurore's eyes snapped open, only to be met with blackness once more. Somehow, when she had closed her eyes, it seemed less dark. Quite abruptly, Aurore felt a sudden surge of confidence and defiance run through her blood. "Well, you must have done something quite awful to deserve being called such an abuse."

"I have done nothing to you" he reminded her. "And I did nothing in any of the other incidences."
"'Nothing'" Aurore reverberated, her eyebrows raising. She had the impression that he could see her, even though it was just blackness in the seemingly narrow tunnel as far as her own unaccustomed eyes could see.

There was a pause. Then"Most of the time, I had done nothing to deserve such a term of endearment" he spoke the last words with such bitter sarcasm, it was almost sickening. "One is not always judged by their personality."

"Pity, that" Aurore remarked unconsciously, her own voice dripping with verbal irony. She hesitated, becoming aware only afterwards of what she had said.

To her absolute shock, he laughed again. This time, however, the laugh was relatively genuine, and it held the angelic notes and song that the voice carried.

Before Aurore could react, Erik pulled her from the wall and squeezed the young woman's thin but supple body to his own deft one. Out of his mouth came that beautiful sound again, and Aurore felt herself going deeper into the tunnel with him...below some huge building in Paris, not knowing or caring whether she saw the light of day ever again.

END OF FLASHBACK...AAAAAND (WAIT FOR IT!) END OF CHAPTER!

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