Erik's POV:
Silence. Cold and impersonal. It reflected that which I hate more than the wretched light of day- Loneliness. But I couldn't take the surge of noise that had swelled in the theater when the stage-hand's body had fallen above the stage. So I had sought out the refuge of the night on the Opera House's roof, where there was only the cold night's silence. The lesser of the two evils it seemed.
At that thought, I smiled grimly behind my horrid mask. 'Evil. What truly is evil? Isn't it nothing more than a point of view?... As with beauty, isn't evil in the eye of beholder?' with these thoughts, I nearly started to laugh in despair. Only a demon such as I would compare 'evil' to 'beauty'.
Hm. Beauty. My mind conjured up the vision of my darling Christine and my black heart swelled with love at the very thought of my Angel. Her voice, her beauty, it was all mine. Yes. Christine was mineThis thought made a predatory grin grace my grotesque features.
And as if by chance and fate, my angel's voice floated through the frigid night air to my ears. But to my chagrin, she was not alone... An all too familiar man's voice blended with my Angel's pure voice. My blood boiled and churned with unbridled hate and jealousy.
'NO!' I mentally screamed with all of my being, heart, and soul. Agony, despair, hatred, betrayal, and pain all battled within me to gain control. I was almost bent over in my turmoil.
How DARE she? And I had forbade that impudent fool of a viscount from seeing Christine! And yet they both had disobeyed my commands. Christine I could forgive, but the boy... 'Raoul' was his name. I would have his neck, that was for certain. Christine was mine and mine alone.
But this was only the beginning. As the moments passed, Christine had not only broken my faith in her, but my heart as well. She had chosen that boy instead of me, the man who had taken her voice and had purified it until it shown like gold. I had inspired her to sing, I was the one who had sheltered her when her father had died. It was because of me that she had won the role of Margueritein Hannibal. CHRISTINE BELONGED TO ME AND NO OTHER MAN WOULD HAVE HER IN ANY WAY!
SHE. WAS. MINE.
Her tender spoken words were like red-hot knives driven into my poor aching heart:
"Say you'll share with
me one
love, one lifetime . . .
say the word
and I will follow you . . ."
Each word spoken was another wave of pain and betrayal. I died each time the two of them came together in their passion. My compassion and my capacity for kindness dwindled until only the dregs remained in my raging soul.
Finally they stopped singing and with voices filled with excitement and love, my fallen angel and her..lover fled away back to their make-believe world of light and warmth. The scorn in my mouth left a bitter taste.
I walked over to the rose that Christine had dropped carelessly in the confession of love that she had partaken in. The red hot tears of pain and heartbreak were already running down my face and blurring my eye-sight as I knelt down and cradled my gift in my hands.
Like the waves of pain that I was drowning in, the tears as well seemed unending and startling in their intensity. These same tears choked my voice as I gasped out a sad song to vent my feelings: "I gave you my music . . .
made your song take wing . . .
and now, how you've
repaid me:
denied me
and betrayed me . . .
He was bound to love you
when he heard you sing . . .
Christine ...
Christine ..."
Then the two lovebirds' song came ringing back into my ears like a hellish echo of my heartbreak... I like my heart, I crushed the flower in my hands and let the mangled petals fall to the ground.
Then in an angry heartfelt rage I ran at the gargoyle in front of me, climbed on top and bellowed for all the world to hear: "YOU WILL CURSE THE DAY THAT YOU DID NOT DO ALL THAT THE PHANTOM ASKED OF YOU!"
And as my threat hung in the air like a ominous cloud of hate and menace, I slipped away like a scorned dog into the shadows of my black despair. They would pay. Oh yes, they would pay dearly...