Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, places, events or music associated with The Phantom of the Opera or the various writers thereof. I also do not own the lyrics to "My Immortal.
Author's Note:
Just a brief one-shot fic borne of boredom and Evanescence mingled together while stuck on my other, longer fiction.
Rated a definite PG-13 for sensuality.
When you're finished with this one, go check out my other Phantom fic, "Anywhere You Go", if you haven't already.
Enjoy.
My Immortal
I'm so tired of being here…
The small ring glittered in the muted candlelight, mocking me with its delicate brilliance. I stared down at it, tracing the lines of the dainty setting with my eyes. Fragile and beautiful.
Just like Christine.
When the soft lap of water against wood was gone, when the final strains of the lovers' song had dissipated, I let loose with all the fury of the infamous Phantom of the Opera.
"It's over now, the music of the night!"
The sound of the shattering mirrors echoed the screaming of my own soul, no longer entrancing and harmonious, but loud, shrill and discordant, screeching to a deafening crescendo in my ears alone.
One by one, the full-length glass mirrors broke, splintering my marred countenance into a thousand pieces. Shards of glass flew in all directions, embedding themselves into my skin, piercing the twisted and the perfect alike, sending rivulets of blood streaming down my face and arms.
The physical pain was nothing compared to the pain in my heart and soul.
The mirrors, the long walls of glass that had mocked me for so long, throwing back at me the horrific fact of my imperfection, broke then.
But my heart had broken long ago…
I slipped away then, into darkness.
Silent darkness.
Suppressed by all my childish fears
I looked back only once.
Oh, God, if I had only known how many times I would look back in the years to come.
In my heart, I believed that I belonged with Raoul.
He loved me.
I believed that.
It was, perhaps, the only thing that I could believe.
But even in that moment, when I walked away with Raoul and looked back only that once, I knew.
I was afraid.
And so, like the child that I was, I chose the safer road.
And if you have to leave
I wish that you would just leave
Because your presence still lingers here
And it won't leave me alone
I can't escape her.
She's in my dreams at night, her voice in my head every moment, both waking and sleeping.
She's my angel, my demon.
In my nightmares, she kisses me again, inciting fire in my blood. I can taste her again, aching to hold her closer, nothing between us but the night, the seductive darkness that she and I alone can share.
In my nightmares, I feel all this and more, only to see her leave me again. In my nightmares, I hear her sweet laughter as she sits by the fire with Raoul. I hear her cry out his name as they make love. I hear the soft giggling of a child and jealousy sweeps through my veins.
In my nightmares, she sees my twisted visage again and screams in terror.
In my nightmares, I am repulsive to her, as repulsive as ever were the demons of Hell.
But in my dreams, ah, my dreams.
In my dreams, she sees my face and does not shrink. In my dreams, she turns the boy away instead.
In my dreams, I see her skin glowing golden in the firelight, the silence and darkness of the catacombs winding around us like a velvet blanket.
I feel her tremble at my touch and hear her cry out my name. I taste her sweetness and I feel her body arch beneath mine, loving me with every part of her, mind, body and soul, despite everything that I've done and everything that I am.
And then I awake, to my cold bed, alone.
Ah, God, if only I could dream forever.
I dream of Heaven.
I live in Hell.
These wounds won't seem to heal
Raoul is everything a woman could wish for in a husband.
He loves me unconditionally, treats me as though I were a queen. My life is filled with sunshine and beauty…
It is not enough.
My heart glories in the life I've chosen.
My soul cries out for the darkness.
This pain is just too real
Is this what you lived with for nearly forty years, Erik? This pain that pierces one's being and seeps into one's soul, poisoning any happiness one might have?
There's just too much that time cannot erase
Raoul was right, Erik.
You'll haunt me till one of us dies.
Your death means my freedom.
So why is it that I pray every morning to God that your last breath comes only with my own?
When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
Do you remember the chapel, Christine? You'd light a candle for your father and cry, longing to hear his voice and feel his presence.
I gave you that.
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
I took off my mask so you wouldn't fear me any longer.
Did it help, dearest Christine?
I laid my soul bare to you, and still you left.
Still you ran.
And I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have all of me
I'll never escape you, Christine.
You used to captivate me by your resonating mind
Now I'm bound by the life you left behind
Your face it haunts my once pleasant dreams
I remember when I dreamed the dreams of an innocent young girl.
I remember when, even in the pain of losing my father, my dreams were my refuge, a place where all was good and beautiful.
Now in my dreams, I see it in your face as you shattered before me when I walked away.
I feel the shards of your heart cut into mine, and we bleed together.
There is no refuge in dreaming any longer.
Your voice it chased away all of the sanity in me
You owned me from the first night that you sang to me.
That moment when we stood together on the dais and you sang to me as you ran your gloved hands down my sides, inciting fire in my blood and sensations that I never knew before, reaching into the deepest recesses of my soul and drawing forth the essence of my being, you owned me.
You owned my mind and my soul, and if not for that awful mannequin, mark of your obsession, perhaps you would have owned my body as well.
God knows I dreamed of you that night, dreams that no innocent young girl should dream.
And God help me, I am a married woman with a husband who loves her, but I still dream those dreams.
I still dream of your voice in my ear, low and seductive, your hands on my body, your lips trailing over my skin. I dream, and when I wake, I blush in shame.
But who can decide what I dream, and dream I do.
These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase
When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
And I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have all of me
You'll never leave me, Erik.
I know that.
And God help me, I never want you to.
I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone
Christine has a husband and a child.
She must be happy.
I wonder if she thinks of me.
But though you're still with me
Raoul was gone last night.
I sat in the drawing room and played the piano. It is a source of great contention in our house, for Raoul wishes me to sing as he plays, but I will not.
I cannot.
I sang for you, and you alone, my angel.
And so I sat, touching the keys as I long to touch you, and I played. I could not hope to make the instrument sing as you would have, but my voice soon drowned out the sound of the piano as I sang to you again, as I had on the stage.
I imagined you at my side, your hands covering mine and guiding them over the keys. I imagined your hands moving up my arms, caressing my skin, touching my throat, my face, my mouth.
I imagined that it was your lips that caressed my body.
The sound of the piano disappeared and I realized it was my own hands that moved languorously over my skin, but I pretended that it was you.
I've been alone all along
And when it was over and the vision and feel of you went away, I cried.
But there was no one to wipe away my tears.
When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
The snow is falling lightly.
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
A cold gravestone, sculpted angels.
The wrong companions for a woman so warm and gentle as you.
And I held your hand through all of these years
I lay a final rose on your gravestone, tied with black ribbon, a small ring encircling the stem.
Fragile and beautiful.
Just like you, Christine.
But you still have…
I close my eyes, the brilliance of diamonds sparkling in my eyes and falling down my face.
I remove the mask slowly, and watch as the snow slowly envelopes it.
I see you, dancing before my eyes, a lovely angel at last in Heaven.
I wonder, will I be able to see you from Hell?
All of me
