Hey! Um… I'm typing Ashleigh's story again. Also, neither of us own the Phantom characters, just read, because this is my favorite chapter!
Chapter 3
Again, in the shadows of the Opera Populaire, a familiar figure is seen. Truly, he would be unrecognizable, if not practically invisible, but for his white mask. And so this dark figure makes his way through the Opera Populaire's darkest corridors, towards that room he knows so well…
Christine stood in the center of her room, singing. Two days had passed since her encounter with the Vicomte, so by now all traces of her tears were gone. Here lovely voice hit every note perfectly.
"… Remember me, once in a while…"
As Christine sang, in crept a certain masked figure, so quietly he was unheard by the girl. He simply stood there, admiring her, until Christine paused for a moment, as if lost in thought.
"Don't stop singing. Your Angel of Music would like to hear your voice. Sing for me!"
Startled, Christine turned to find him there. Girlishly impulsive, she then ran to embrace him.
"Erik. But… I was so… I thought you were…"
"Dead? My love for you kept me alive!"
"Erik, your voice is so hoarse… the… recent event have taken their toll on you."
"Tell me you love me."
"I… I love you. I never realized how much until I thought you were dead. And now… I'm just so happy!"
She turned her face up towards his. He bent down and gently kissed her. Passion overtook them…
(We'll leave them to their privacy)
All things ended, the two lovers cuddled on the small couch. They sat silently, thinking over what had just happened with small secretive smiles on their faces. Finally, her cheek and his mask were separated.
"It is time for me to go. No, don't protest. You know I must."
"Goodbye. Come back soon… don't leave me alone for that long again."
"I'll try, but it is hard to get away… from your room, I mean. Someone could see me, and start all of this up again."
"Yes… I suppose you are right."
"Of course I'm right. Now, I take my leave."
Long after her masked lover left, Christine sat, gazing into what seemed like empty space, but was truly a realm of beautiful memory. So Christine sat, hour after hour, until she realized her hunger. She stood up to go fix her toilette, then suddenly she stopped. Christine gave a high pitched scream that echoed through the opera house. Her face was fixed in an expression of horror, her complexion white.
As one would imagine, all who heard the scream ran to their star's aid.
"Miss Daae? Miss Daae? Are you all right?"
"No one is answering! What could have happened?"
"Well, go on in and find out, you fool!"
Upon entering, Christine's group of would-be rescuers just had the chance to see her standing there, shocked, before she crumpled to the floor.
