Chapter V: The Phantom
The next morning, Raphael woke up early. He hadn't been able to sleep much the night before. It was Monday, which meant there was a day off until the performance that evening, so Raphael was probably the only one awake. He washed his face, and then looked at his reflection for a long time. His scar was always the thing he looked at the most. He had always thought, "If only I could just hide that scar from the world." Now, he had similar emotions, but it seemed to him that to put on the mask for good would be to jump over the edge of a forbidden cliff.
He still couldn't get over the previous night. Maybe it would have been best if he hadn't told her. It was such a crazy thing to tell anybody. She probably thought him some crazed lunatic now. Still, he had to try to patch up things with her. They had been friends far too long for something as little as this to get in the way. Of course, now that he thought of it, this wasn't exactly what you would call 'little'. That didn't make him feel much better. He sighed, then walked out the door of his bedroom, off to search for Chouet.
By an odd twist of fate, Chouet was walking by just as he went out. She jumped, and then, seeing who was coming out, began to hurry away. Raphael began going after her. "Chouet, wait! I need…I need…" She rushed down the stairs, and he rushed after her. "I need…" He finally reached her halfway down the staircase and grabbed her hand. "…We need to talk."
Chouet struggled. "No…please, let go…"
Raphael simply watched her. "No. I want to know what happened last night and why you were avoiding me."
Chouet struggled still. "Please…"
"What happened?"
Chouet stopped and sighed. She turned to look at him, and Raphael was stunned to see tears there. "I can't believe you…you…actually…"
Raphael was truly stunned. "What? What is it, Chouet?"
Chouet was crying freely now. "I can't believe you actually respect him! You told me he was a monster! Now…you think he's a genius! He was a murderer, Raphael! He was a man of death. And I cannot love a man who loves death." There was silence during which Raphael stared at her, stunned. She took a deep breath. "Please let go."
Raphael let go of her, and she rushed down the stairs and out of sight. His knees were suddenly weak, and he grabbed on to the handrail to prevent himself from falling down the staircase. He pulled himself back up, panting as if he was winded. She didn't love him…he loved her so dearly; he couldn't begin to use words to describe it. And she didn't love him…
Suddenly, Raphael heard voices. He froze, listening. One was that of Chouet, and the other was that of Monsieur Giovanni. He could hear Chouet say, "...and he went to where the Phantom lived, Monsieur. I'm sorry you had to hear that…"
"Oh, no need to apologize, Mademoiselle. If you ask me for my opinion, it's best if you don't see him anymore. You shouldn't associate yourself with him. If he really thinks that…he was a genius…well, then…we must question his sanity…"
Chouet was obviously shocked by this. "Oh, no, Monsieur! Raphael…he's just confused…"
"Mademoiselle, you should just let him go. It is possible that he might be dangerous, now that he's learned the story of the Phantom. You should best stay away from him from now on."
Raphael heard a sigh. "I suppose you're right, Monsieur."
"Well, then, Mademoiselle Chouet, I shall see you this evening for the performance."
Raphael listened and continued to pant. She was leaving him…he loved her so dearly, and she thought him some sort of monster…
If she couldn't love him…he couldn't live…
His face had fallen to the ground, and a single tear fell to the wooden staircase. His heart had just been broken into a million pieces.
Then, very slowly, his head began to rise slowly. That manager…he was encouraging her! And Jacques…he even called him a phantom! They all thought that the Phantom was a madman. He was a genius! A genius! And now they thought he, Raphael Giry, was crazy, just for knowing the truth about this genius. Well, if they wanted a madman, they would get a madman! They would get everything they feared of, and more! They would get back all that they had scorned and laughed at! They would curse the day they ever laughed at him!
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Raphael was down in the catacombs underneath the old opera house, positively fuming. He rummaged through the objects and found a cape. He put on the cape, tying the drawstring around his neck carefully. He then found a coil of rope. He examined it and found that it was already tied into a hangman's noose. He put the rope underneath his cloak, deciding it would be…useful that evening.
The last thing his eyes saw was the manikin head. Resting on it was the mask, almost beckoning out to him. He walked towards it slowly, reaching out a hand to it. He took it off of the head and looked at it in his hand for a moment. He finally put it on, looking down at his feet at the pile of shattered glass. There was his reflection, jagged and deformed, hidden by the mask. There was an odd glint in his eyes that seemed to drive his features with a force that had never been seen before. It was a force of anger.
Note from Author: Look! Another note! Mark your calendars! I just wanted to say that I love this chapter. There. I just love it. It's Raphael's transformation into the Phantom. You may wonder why I don't combine this chapter with the next one, since the next one is also quite short. Simple: this is a HUGE happening and deserves its own chapter. It's probably the most pivotal part of the plot. OK, here I go, rambling. I shall shut up now.
Next Chapter: Murder
Chouet walked down the hallway, suddenly feeling very cold. Why did she suddenly feel so cold? She reached the door of the manager's office and opened the door. She looked for a moment around the office, and then screamed.
