Ann: The night of the Masquerade. What a grand and opulent celebration. How marvelous and beautiful The new managers Firmin and Moncharmin had spared no expense to create the most lavish New Years Eve ever.
The entire Parisian Upper Class was present that night. Dukes and Duchesses, Lords and Ladies, and of course Vicomptes.Christine had had the gall to show up with him even though her Angel had spoken to her that morning. I'd heard her and him, although it is quite rude to eavesdrop. Yet now, here she was, in all rose pink splendor, sprawled across Raouls arm like a lovesick puppy.
My Megan was dancing with every available man, and I saw quite a few jealous ladies. I myself hung to the back, enjoying the view. All seemed safe, merry, and jubilant. Until Erik. Edgar Allen Poe's Masque of The Red Death. Pure Terror. He made quite a grand entrance, slithering down the steps and threatening the managers.
He mocked the actors, commanded that his Opera be performed, and detailing exactly how it was to be done. I shrank in horror, holding Megan close to me. I could feel her trembling, and my hands were cold as ice. Red Death came to The Rose, and they stared. I do believe it was only the second time Christine had seen Erik. I mouthed silently to her "See what a magnificent man you've abandoned!" Erik screamed at her "You belong to me!" and grabbed her gold ring.
It was only then that I realized the ring she had been wearing for two weeks was actually an engagement ring. I ran towards Erik, but a cloud of smoke blinded me. Raoul jumped in after him, and I ran the other way, towards the brick wall that led to the side door of the mirror room. I came in just as Erik was teasing Raoul.
I grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the room.
Erik: The Bal Masque. The ridiculous New Years celebration they held every year. This time my new managers decided to use up all the remaining money in the bank account just to finance their silly performance.
What a lavish and over-done celebration. How trite and supercilious. Quite an egotistical parade of pompous aristocrats. The backstage was much more fun. I hung in the shadows watching the original dances and celebrations of the loose, excited lower-class.
They danced and partied with abandonment, certainly more interesting and enjoyable than the Grand Foyer. Alas, the Grand Foyer is where I made my entrance. I suantered down the stairs, threatening all with my powerful presence. For the first time in over 24 years of haunting, I revealed myself. I was a man, a dangerous, hurt man who would stop at nothing to get what he wanted.
I threw my Opera down along with shiny gold coins. I made it clear who was to perform what and how. I would over-see the productions to make sure my demands were carried out. Then I came to her, Christine. Beautiful, sensual, the object of my passion. I walked ever closer to her, and then saw the ring upon her neck. That Vicompte!
I growled as I snatched the trinket away, "Your chains are still mine! You belong to ME!" I screamed at her. How dare she betray me in this fashion! I threw my handmade smoke bomb down and disappeared through the trapdoor. It remained open! Damn! I tried to press the lever but it was stuck, and then that bastard followed me.
Raoul attempted to slash me, but only cut thin air at my reflection. I was glad I had built this room so long ago. It proved to be rather amusing as Raoul acted like the foolish fop he was. Suddenly Ann reached in and I growled. She pulled Raoul away and I ran to find Christine.
We needed to have a talk.
Ann: I pulled Raoul into my room and sat him down. He looked at me, imploring me to explain. I told him all I knew, everything I had done with Erik. I explained how I had brought him down to the Opera after he'd killed Javert.
I told him how Erik used the Opera as his playground, his personal domain. I told him what I had never told anyone in my life, even to my poor husband. Raoul was understanding, and he did not blame me. I, however, did blame myself. He patted me on the shoulder and left. He wanted to keep a close eye on Christine that night.
Erik: I ran to Christine's dressing room and waited. I did not hide behind her mirror, but stood calmly in her room. Several moment's later she appeared and began to pound her fist's on my chest. "What do you want from me!" She screamed.
She backed away and I hung my head in shame. "Christine, I want to explain." She replied, "There's nothing to explain!" I sat on her bed and began to tell her my story anyway. She continued to stand before me, but had the curtesy to listen without interrupting. I told her about my life with my mother, her abusive and cruel treatment, and the night I ran away.
When I talked about my life at the gypsy camp, I did not tell her about Javert. I made it sound as if Ann had rescued me, and there was no way I would tell her about Ann's husband. By the time I was finished she was in tears, and I stood up.
"I love you Christine, more than you'll ever know. I want you to rehearse your part well, and think about what I am offering you. Love, a life of music, and ease, and forever being pampered. Remember, I am always here for you." I wanted very badly to kiss her then, even a small peck upon the forehead, but I did not. I walked into the mirror and sat behind it, crying.
fell asleep sometime later, until the sound of footsteps awoke me. I watched her dress, and knew she must have been heading for her Fathers grave. I quickly ran outside, bashed the Carriage driver over the head, and waited, hidden, until she appeared.