Hello everyone! Thank you all so very much for all the fantastic reviews for the last chapter (I'm still blushing) So as requested I am updating as soon as I can...enjoy!
Disclaimer: By now if you don't know I own nothing...well then your just not smart.
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"The Fantôme of the Opera Caught At Last!"
Foreword By: Delmar Florismart
Article published by: Le Courrier de Mantes
"No, no ladies and gentlemen the headline above is not another rumor among the townspeople but in fact the mesmerizing truth!"
"The infamous Phantom that has haunted the Opera Populiare for nearly five years has in fact been caught and is currently being held by the Bureaux de Police de Paris. The ghost, who is in reality a deranged, unidentified individual, was captured early yesterday morning when several guards were about their daily patrol. Shortly after heading into Rue Saint-Maur, the gentlemen confronted what appeared to be a decrepit, elderly gentlemen. The guards regarded the man as suspicious, because of the odd hour, and upon stopping to question him, the 'elderly' gentlemen shed his cloak to reveal a strange, masked person and abruptly began attacking them, causing serious injuries to their persons. Once the guards at last captured the bizarre man, they recognized he fit the description of the Ghost that has been terrorizing the Opera Populaire for nearly five years.
'When we asked him if he knew anything about the Opera House his eyes just went wild! He began thrashing 'bout and claiming that the Red Death would claim all our souls!' stated Phlippe Charbonneau, an eight year veteran with the Bureau.
After later examination, the creature was claimed mentally unstable. Several items reported stolen from the theater were found in his possession, and the confession is more than enough proof for the Phantom to be declared a misfit of society for the crimes with which he has been charged.
After several a of interrogations, it was ddetermined that Mademoiselle Daae had originally been kidnapped and was in fact being coerced to later return to the Phantom. The Opera Ghost confessed that he threatened the lives of her friends and family to win her company and has more importantly confessed to the murders of Joseph Buquet (chief sceneshifter at the Opera Populaire) and the Vicomte Raoul Albert de Chagny. ( It is unconfirmed whether or not the murder of the Viscount was motivated by the rumored, romantic relationship between the Viscount and Miss Daae.)
But regardless the public outcry demands he be punished for his crimes as soon as soon as possible. Administrators claim that since the evidence is so tremendous the court case has not been found necessary and a simple hearing will take place later tomorrow afternoon and will only consist of the Commissaire de chef de police, Le maire, and a selected assortment of townspeople whom the Police believe will be helpful in deciding what is to be done with the man. But it is this reporter's opinion that the criminal deserves a swift justice for the heartache he has caused this great city, And the people who dwell within it."
Christine flinched as she read the last words of the appalling article. She rolled the paper up and violently threw it towards the the corner of her room. She was grateful Meg had retrieved every available paper the city had to offer with news of the Phantom and while details varied, the essential facts remained the same including the location and time of Erik's hearing. The lack of evenhandedness and evident corruption aggravated her beyond comprehension and she gnawed on her fingernails angrily.
"Overwhelming evidence? What a joke!" she huffed to herself, tapping her foot in an attempt to rid herself of her nervous energy.
Several minutes later she felt revolted with herself, her thoughts turned to Erik once more. For the last two days she had done nothing but dreamt of and yearned for him. How horrible the pain he must be going through right now! How dreadful the ordeal? She sighed and rose from her seat to stand at the window nearby.
The sight outside was truly a lovely one, the sun was just beginning to set, the sky turning a variety of pink's and oranges. Beyond it children were playing in the street, eager to use these last few moments of freedom before the darkness of the night descended. Christine smiled and realized that it would only be a short time now before Madame Giry's plan would be put into action. And soon, with any luck Erik would be free from the jail that detained him.
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Men and women of all ages and classes wandered around the streets of Paris on this same evening in frantic attempts to finish their daily chores before hours of darkness came upon them. The sky was clear and littered with a few stars as the sun dropped below the horizon, promising tranquil weather for the night. Upon the street where the Sièges sociaux de police was located, the few street lanterns that were capable of making any light faltered under a heavy gust of wind and the area quickly grew dark.
Below the pleasing to the eye Sièges sociaux de police, a less attractive set of rooms stood side by side providing a dungeon for any criminals that the city may receive. However, the only jail cell currently being occupied by that of a ghost.
Or at least someone who used to be a ghost.
But now he was only a broken man and as Erik lifted his head a slow feeling of pain grew from remaining cramped in the same position for so long. Without lifting his eyes, he glanced at his hands, stained by blood and the grime of the cell. He almost felt like laughing then, for it was hard to believe such gruesome looking hands had ever played something as wonderful as the piano...or touched something as beautiful as Christine.
He felt his heart swell then and he closed his eyes in an attempt to visualize his angel once more. Oh how he longed for her! To hear her voice, to see her face and feel her soft hand upon his brow!
Erik sighed and slumped against the stone wall beside him. The renewed throbbing from his previous injuries sending him wincing and throwing his head back in agony. He stifled a scream by biting his lip, only releasing his grasp when he tasted blood. Afterward, he continued to breathe heavily, taking in air in great gulps, hoping somehow the element of necessity would rid him of the blinding pain that came from his torn back, his fractured side, and what he presumed to be his several broken bones. Despairingly, he closed his eyes once more tunneling through his brain to find the voice of his angel that he had saved in every detail for such a situation as this.
Despite the surging torment of his injuries and the overwhelming sense of misfortune, Erik regretted nothing of what he had done. As the first of many beatings occurred he wondered briefly to himself if he had gone mad, but as time wore on in massive gaps of consciousness and unconsciousness, he knew that the decision he had made was perhaps idiotic but at least he would no longer have to worry for Christine's safety and that was worth a thousand years of torture if fate so desired it.
His thoughts were interrupted by the hefty footsteps that he instantly recognized to be one of the guards that was assigned to 'keep watch' over him. Instantly his presence brought the stench of expiring ale and pungent body odor. The overweight man strutted over, chuckling, twirling an club and hitting the bars in front of the cell, the sound echoing throughout the dungeons.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't the freak!" he said at last stopping suddenly across from Erik.
After a moment of silence he asked mockingly, "Aww! What's the matter, freak, cat got your tongue?"
Erik continued to be unresponsive and remained in his position on the floor leaning his unmasked face against the cold stone.
"Well, that's all right! 'Cause I just came down here to share something wit' ya," he said in a calculating manner. Slowly he leaned closer to the bars, his large eyes scanning around for fear some invisible soul should hear his announcement.
He smiled wickedly, "I hear their gonna hang you tomorrow." After that hearing they're gonna hang you from the gallows like a fish from the drying rack. The hearing is just for show, you see." He paused to place his grimy fingers against the bars. "The mayor and the other noblemen just want the public to think that they are all merciful and sympathetic, or some damn thing, but their gonna hang ya!" he said speeding up his speech and chuckling even louder.
"Oh yeah 'Phantom' this is your last night on earth I can guaran-goddamn-tee that!" He laughed for several more minutes before pulling away from the bars to take a seat on a nearby chair wiping his eyes as he did so. "It's odd isn't I? I never thought someone who was supposed to be dead could be hanged."
Without his realization Erik had taken the jailer's moment of inattention to examine this jailer fully. Erik was replused by the overweight male, his multiple chins and pendulous flesh dangling about his sides. The chair he sat upon made a horrible sound when he landed upon it and despite the man's generous salary he lack the intellect to bathe, or take care of his many rotting teeth. That stuck about in a horrible fashion.
When at last Erik turned away unable to take in the sight any longer the man had stopped laughing but he spoke once more to make one more demeaning comment.
"Don't worry Red Death...soon you'll be going back to Hell where you came from."
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A lone figure stood among the shadows that outlined the Opera Populaire. Her cloak rustled around her legs as the crisp night breeze whipped around the corner. She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered despite her effort not to. Patiently she awaited the stroke of midnight from the large clock tower nearby, her expression never changing as her eyes remained on the generously proportioned building.
She sighed and folded her hands together before putting them in front of her. She then proceeded to glance downward and roll her eyes at herself and her conspicuously nervous gestures.
Alone, she waited for the intimidating clock tower to toll, and her breath continued to grow heavier as time passed agonizing slow rate. However, she wasn't isolated for long before a slight tapping on her shoulder, alerted her that perhaps the current worry on her mind was no longer her biggest worry.
She jumped at the stranger's action and nearly yelped in preparation for attack but as she turned she was confronted by her childhood ally who was equally desperate to keep her dark haired friend from screaming.
"Christine! Christine it's just me!"
"Meg!" Christine shrieked with surprise at the familiarity of the voice . "What are you doing here? I thought we agreed to meet-"
"I know," The blonde said, cutting her off. "But mother had a change of heart and thought it best that I go to the station with you to save some time," she explained in a rushed whisper.
"Oh, I see," Christine replied. "Let's go then, I don't think I can stand waiting another second, let alone until midnight."
Meg glanced at the clock tower and back at her friend's worried face before responding with a firm nod of her head. "Ok, but let's be careful."
Christine nodded in agreement and the girls swiftly began their journey across town to their destination. The trip was silent, the only sounds that accompanied them were that of the wind as it whispered nothingness in their ears and that of the delicate tapping of their shoes as their feet carried the young women along the dark streets. Meg took many panicky glances in the direction of her companion who appeared to be staring at everything and nothing but her expression was blank, her skin pale. At last Meg stopped and halted Christine with her.
"Christine are you sure you want to do this?" Meg asked in a frightened whisper. It took several moments before Christine could reply but once she did she smiled greatly and placed her hands in Meg's as a show of reassurance.
"I never wanted to do anything like this Meg," She whispered solemnly. "But I have to do this, I love Erik far too much to know of his suffering and do nothing to stop it. Please try to understand Meg, I know this is probably the most foolish thing I've ever done...but I just cannot allow him to die."
Meg sighed and clutched Christine's hands a little tighter. "All right Christine, I'll play my part, but know that I don't do this for him! I mean, I do believe the man should be punished for what he's done...but you're my sister. And I love you too much to watch you suffer." With that both girls smiled and hugged briefly before releasing each other and letting out a small laugh.
"I'll never be able to return your kindness, Meg," Christine whispered sadly.
Meg simply shrugged and replied with a grin. "You'll never need to…halfwit." she included in attempt to lift Christine's spirits.
"Ill-bred beetle." Christine retorted playfully with a wry smirk.
With that both women moved forward to the station, continuing the rest of the journey in silence. The night surrounding them enouraging them to finish their mission.
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Death.
It was ironic; he had dreamed of death for so long. Prayed for it. Yearned for it. And even counted down the seconds until it enveloped to his miserable form and stopped his shriveled heart.
And here it was, ready and waiting for him. Reaching out it's distorted, desiccated fingers and inviting him forward…all he had to do was walk to the scaffold and stand upright while the noose was placed around his neck. But for some reason the thought evoked an emotion in him that he was beginning to recognize as fear. For he no longer daydreamed of dread and sorrow but only of Christine, and a life without her, even one in hell, seemed beyond horrible and he clenched his chest painfully. It wasn't the fact that he was going to die that frightened him.
It was the fact that he would never see Christine again.
He began to notice a slight wetness on his cheeks. Troubled by this, he opened his eyes and moved his hand to the source. They were tears that flooded from his eyes and they washed only some of the dirt from his features, he sighed sadly, choosing to close his eyes once more and ignore the burning of his orbs and attempting to swallow his tears.
A few moments later he forced himself to open his eyes again ass he heard rustling from above. He glanced around curiously for the source but he saw nothing but the darkness around him, yet the noises only continued to grow louder. The sound of screeching and loud clapping intruded upon his hearing but still he could see nothing of it's source. Frustrated with the fruitless search, he moaned and sat in the rancid strewn about hay of the floor. Despondently, he proceeded to hang his head in his hands twrilling the dirty strands of hair between his fingers. The laugher continued, resounding throughout the grounds. Annoyed, he covered his ears with his hands.
From the sounds of the vulgar and perverse comments that echoed from above, he could only guess that a female was keeping company with the guards. Their condescending yelps and whistles were driving into his skull, forcing him to shake his head violently back and forth and hum a well-known melody to himself to drown out of the horrible sounds. This wasn't the last human experience he wanted! He didn't want to hear the clatter of some revealed young woman being subjected to perversity like that!
But as the sounds continued to grow and build in his brain, he was unaware of another soul entering the dungeons. The quiet footsteps approached his cell hesitantly, as though they were lost and had never been there before. Erik, however simply hummed louder and bolted his eyes shut so tightly that his eyelids burned. The subconscious tears that he was shedding also wasn't of much help in improving the problem. Luckily, the footsteps had ceased their movement and a petite shadow loomed over him.
The silhouette remained over him, moving frantically trying to gain his attention, saying words he couldn't comprehend. He continued to discount it until at last of the loud laughter and obscene remarks subsided and the grim shadow ceased movement entirely. The sudden calm made Erik suspicious but his overwhelming inquisitiveness forced him to open his eyes and return to reality once more. A voice startled him back from his twisted dreams, desperate to reach in in his sorrow.
"Erik…"
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Oh aren't I just plain evil...