The Phantom of the Opera: Chapter 8
Disclaimer: DC Comics owns "Teen Titans." Gaston Leroux owns the original story of "The Phantom of the Opera." Andrew Lloyd Webber owns the musical version. I own whatever I write/create. Don't steal and don't sue.
A/N: If some original characters in this story confuse you, please refer to my story "Book of Demons" for more information about them.
On the morning of the day that was supposed to be utterly perfect, the notes were the first things that told the world the day would not go as planned. Jinx woke early at ten sixteen, too eager to sleep for the first time in three years. She smiled as she stretched and did not curse the bright sunlight flowing into her window. As her hands fell from their position over her head, her fingers landed on an envelope that was placed rather artistically on her pillow.
She picked it up with a smile, thoroughly believing that Malchior had furtively delivered an admirer's note while she slept. With quick, small fingers, she tore open the envelope and withdrew the note.
You will not sing tonight. You have a cold, and trying to sing will ruin your voice. Sing, and you bring disaster on yourself.
It was simple and succinct. Jinx tore it to pieces and threw the shreds over the side of the bed. She thought momentarily of lying back down and sulking, but refused to let the note affect her too greatly. She kept the smile on her face and went to ready herself for the performance.
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Robin picked up the solitary note on the floor under the mail slat. He opened it without much caring or thought, his mind blissfully blank after his morning exercises.
You will not occupy Box Five tonight.
The note, even shorter than Jinx's, infuriated the young man. He crumbled it in one hand, his fist tightening until his knuckles turned white. A sneer pulled his lips as he looked at the hand holding the note, and he strode quickly away into his parlor. He snatched up a box of matches from his desk and took one out. In his fervor, he snapped the match in half when he tried to light it. Restraining a snarl, he tried again. The match lit and flared brilliantly, and he set the note ablaze with the tiny flame. Robin dropped it on the table, knowing it would leave only a small, easily cleaned smudge on the hard lacquer finish.
He tried to grin at his small triumph when it was abruptly stolen from him. The flames that were burning away the notepaper turned from bright red to pure black. The black fire swelled and grew, and a swift wind that came from nowhere made the pillar dance and sway. Six red eyes—the same as those he had seen less than a week ago in his drunken fit—appeared in the flames, and a voice spoke.
You will not occupy Box Five tonight!
The pillar swelled and exploded in a shower of sparks. Robin frantically patted out the flames that burst into life on his clothes from the sparks and ran around stomping out multiple fires on his prized oriental rug. A burn mark, one he would not be able to clean, lay on the table in the center of tiny spark scars. Robin stared at it, his breath shallow and fast. He swallowed hard and forced his breathing to find a calmer pattern.
"Box Five is mine," he snarled aloud. "I won't give it up to some demon!"
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"Chaos? I thought Madame Kali watched every performance. I didn't see her in the audience." Starfire did not look up at Bumblebee's statement. It was not her place to answer why Kali was not in her usual place by the orchestra pit, nor was it her place to reveal how well Chaos knew of Kali's plans for the evening. She bit her lip, concentrating instead on running through both the blocking for the role of Serafimo and the lines for the role of the countess in her mind.
"She'll be here. She just doesn't want to run into—Kitten." The snarl that Chaos's voice degraded to when saying the single word was the closest any of the dancers had seen her to visible anger. She paused with a frown on her face before speaking again. "Go on—get to your places. I don't want any last minute running around."
A tradition of the theatre is to say a quick prayer for the success of the show before the curtain rises. While this was never expressly forbidden in the Paris Opera House, Chaos—the one who most people assumed would lead the prayer—never uttered a word. Starfire hurried to the wings of downstage left, whispering her prayer. She knew that her two friends would ask for strength and talent from that shapeless, faceless wonder the Church had deemed God.
While she acknowledged this higher being and asked for its aid in bringing success to the Opera House, it was not God that Starfire thought of to draw strength into herself. With the thought of Raven first and foremost in her mind, Starfire took a deep breath and waited for the curtain to rise.
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"They say that this youth
has set my Lady's
heart aflame!"
"His Lordship, sure
would die of shock!"
"His Lordship is
a laughing-stock!"
"Should he suspect her, God protect her!"
"Shame! Shame! Shame!
"This faithless lady's
bound for Hades!
Shame! Shame! Shame!"
The look of shock on Serafimo's face as the curtain parted was nothing short of hysterical. The kiss the countess and Serafimo shared was broken immediately while the countess's confidante, jeweler, hairdresser, and two attendants looked on in surprise, both real and exaggerated to hide the gleeful triumph of learning the truth behind the gossip. Before Serafimo could hurry away to hide, the countess snatched his wrist with a thoroughly wicked smile on her face.
The greatest mark of an actor's talent is not how well they take on the emotions of the character they portray—it lies in how well they mask how they truly feel. On that night, Starfire proved herself to be an incredible actress to all but the most experienced eye. She laid her hands upon Jinx as any young, eager lover would, scandalizing the audience with her character's audacity. The audience was utterly convinced that Starfire felt nothing beside the carefully limited lust of her character, and Jinx was too concerned with enjoying her victory to think otherwise.
Distraction seemed a common thing that night. The managers spent most of their time either discussing their good fortune in luring Jinx back into the theater or admiring Terra and Bumblebee despite their silent roles. Robin was torn between staring at Starfire and dwelling on the demons that plagued him. There were only two people in the Opera House who had focus enough to see past the skillful lies of the actors.
The first was Chaos, who stood in the wings of stage right. She watched, spotting the telltale twitches in Starfire's muscles and the blending of hurt and anger in her eyes that belied her every action. Only once did her eyes stray from the stage, and what she saw sent a tremor of fury dancing up her spine. Kali was standing in the back of the theater, her typical place taken up by Kitten. The blond woman was sitting with an overwhelmingly smug smile on her face, twisting and turning to gaze with pride on the full house that she had sold. Chaos bit back the urge to react, instead turning her eyes back to the stage.
High above, standing on the gantry that ran round the circumference of the domed ceiling, was Raven. She stood in shadows, looking out at the Opera House. Everything she saw, heard, and sensed made her scowl darken and her eyes burn a bloodier red. Just as Chaos did, she saw the miniscule signs that Starfire could hide from all but a choice few. She had watched the young woman for too long to be blind to the tightness of her fingers or the stiffness of her spine. Though she could not see Starfire's eyes from such a distance, she knew her pride was wounded.
With one eye still trained on Starfire, Raven turned a new focus on something very near the young woman. She saw Chaos's scowl and felt no surprise, despite the rarity of seeing the expression. It was an anger they both shared, and Raven knew that her anger at Kali's insult was nothing compared to the fury that Chaos somehow managed to keep in check. Raven had sworn to remedy the situation, and the time was drawing close.
Another split of her focus brought her third eye upon Box Five. The sight of the fop boy sitting in her box was an insult she knew had to be answered. He was arrogant, looking about the Opera House with an upturned nose. It was an act, she knew, he put on entirely for her. The strain, however, was clearly eating away at his nerves. His terror could not be suspended forever. Everything was falling into place to set everything right once more.
Raven's focus centered again on the stage. Serafimo's disguise—hastily thrown on with the entrance of Don Attilio, the countess's husband—had been ripped away. The don still stood just in the doorway, watching his wife celebrate her infidelity with the voiceless pageboy by mocking him. Malchior's false rage was convincing as Jinx sang with a grin on her face. Her mocking laughter—bursts of barely controlled vocalization—was not directed at him. Raven saw her eyes continually flick toward Starfire while she laughed. When the three chorus members joined in with her laughter, Raven knew the time had come.
"Did I not instruct that Box Five was to be kept empty?"
Her demand rang clearly throughout the Opera House and was answered by the abrupt halting of the music and a wave of gasps from the audience. She strode out from the shadows, stopping only when she was in full view. Hands still hidden within her cloak, she gestured. The chandelier before her swayed suddenly, metal pieces grinding together and creaking. The lights in the Opera House—whether electric or oil—flickered and sent the theater briefly into darkness. Those that saw the four glowing red eyes high above gasped again, one or two choice women shrieking with terror. The lights returned.
"The Phantom of the Opera!" Terra clapped her hands over her mouth the moment the words escaped her lips. The audience began to mutter amongst themselves, trying to determine if the event that was unfolding around them was real or staged.
"It's her," Starfire whispered. Jinx whirled on her furiously, her cheeks reddening so much that her carefully painted white face turned pink.
"Be silent, you little toad!" The hiss shot like an arrow through the Opera House. The audience fell silent, eyes darting back and forth between the black form on the catwalk high above and the painted diva on the stage. Jinx stepped toward the edge of the stage, clearing her throat. Monsieur le Blood nodded to her and signaled to the orchestra. The song began again from the top of the scene.
"Serafimo, away with this pretense!
You cannot speak, but kiss me in my CO-ACK!"
The scowl Raven wore slowly turned to a smile, and she could not keep the sardonic laugh from bubbling up out of her throat. Jinx stood with her eyes wide, face fallen, and a hand at her throat. For a long moment, no one moved or spoke.
"Get on with it!" Cyborg snarled from the manager's box. The orchestra began to play again, at a point slightly further on in the song. Jinx swallowed forcefully and opened her mouth.
"CO-ACK!" If her mouth was open, a toad's croak would emerge. The song ruined, she tried desperately to speak. She croaked at Malchior, at Starfire, at Monsieur le Blood, and at the managers. With each horrible sound, she grew visibly more and more distressed. Her face grew progressively darker shades of pink, and her eyes began to shine. Cyborg and Beast Boy hurried from their box and down the staircase that would bring them quickly to the stage. Jinx tried to give a cry of despair, but only produced the loudest and rudest croak of all.
The curtain was brought in as Malchior led Jinx away. High above, the chandelier rocked back and forth, the glass pieces sounding of perfectly tuned chimes. Raven grinned, her four red eyes fading into two blue eyes. Cyborg and Beast Boy emerged from behind the curtain, pale and sweaty.
"Ladies and gentlemen, please, forgive us the interruption!" Beast Boy said, wringing his hands. "The performance will continue in ten minute's time with Mademoiselle Starfire playing the role of the countess!" The audience applauded, revealing their preference instantly.
"We will give you the ballet from act three in the meantime!" Cyborg said quickly. "Until then, please—enjoy our dancers!" The two men vanished beyond the curtain. Raven's grin calmed to a smile, and she slipped back into the shadows.
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Jinx sobbed in earnest for the first time in twenty years. She clutched at her throat as if preparing to strangle the toad's croaks before they could escape. Malchior tried to lead her toward her private dressing room, but she struggled to stop when she saw Mammoth. He stood on a catwalk three levels above the stage floor, a supremely stupid look upon his face. She stared up at him, her face made hideous by the mix of tears, sweat, makeup, and rage upon it.
She said one word and made one gesture: as she pointed toward Starfire, who was hurrying away in the opposite direction, she snarled, "Dead." Mammoth stood staring at Starfire for a moment, but looked back to Jinx and nodded slowly. Malchior glanced at the man before leading Jinx away quickly. Mammoth started along the catwalk quickly, unsure of how exactly to carry out the order that had been given to him. Before he could set his mind upon it entirely, he found himself standing before Chaos. He blinked, trying to recall when she had climbed up into the catwalks from the stage.
"Aren't you supposed to be changing the sets for the ballet?" she asked coolly.
"Get out of my way or I'll kill you too!" He lowered his shoulders and curled his hands into massive fists, unconcerned of what he had just said. Chaos stared at him. His eyes flicked nervously toward Starfire. Chaos turned, seeing the young woman just before she vanished into a dressing room. Her eyes widened a moment, and she turned back to Mammoth with them narrowed.
"I said move!" he snarled. She did as he said, but moved to stand in the center of the catwalk. He growled, pulling back one fist. Chaos smiled.
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Raven dropped down onto the fifth level catwalk, her landing silent. Before she could stand straight or even look about, a loud crack rang out above the sound of the violins. Her focus naturally turned to the source of the sound, and her eyes widened at what she found. Chaos lay on her back on the backstage floor, blood streaming from the corner of her mouth and her forehead. There was a sharp bend in her right arm just below the elbow, and her eyes were closed. Raven could only stand, her spine set in ice, and stare at the unmoving woman far below. Her blood was dark—it looked black from where Raven stood.
"He's going to kill Starfire." Raven heard the voice in her mind as Chaos's eyes opened. Her eyes followed Chaos's gaze to find Mammoth making his way cautiously along the third level catwalk. The ice in her body melted when she realized what had been said to her, filling her instead with an equally cold fury.
Mammoth smirked at his victory, walking slowly to muffle his footsteps. He was all of ten steps from where he had thrown Chaos over the side of the catwalk when the darkness appeared. It was a shimmering ring in the catwalk above him that grew from a pinpoint to a massive circle large enough to encompass even his broad shoulders. A flash of black fell through the shadows suddenly, landing silently on the boards before him.
The black shape began to move—a human shape standing straight. A pale face covered by a white mask appeared from beneath a curtain of long dark hair. The eyes opened to stare at Mammoth, twin diamonds filled with fiery red light. Mammoth shuddered and made to step backwards, but found his legs unwilling to obey. Beneath the dark blue cloak, blackness formed and burgeoned the body, and the head soon rose above his own. The back was hunched slightly, the eyes fixed upon his. With a horrible start, Mammoth knew that he stood before the Phantom of the Opera and her ire was his.
His hand shot out, not to strike at the Phantom, but to grab the nearest rope and pull himself off his useless legs. He began to climb frantically, his eyes wide despite the painful cold sweat streaming into them. Though he never would have looked back for anything, he had no need to. The Phantom rose up through the air from under him, unaffected by gravity as she matched his speed easily. He gave a cry and let go of the rope. Mammoth fell backwards, crashing on the fifth level catwalk. He scrambled back to his feet and started to run away.
Rounding a corner, Mammoth finally let his eyes blink. When he opened them, the Phantom stood before him. Desperately, he threw a hard right hook. His fist smashed against a wall of shadows that appeared between his hand and the Phantom's face. Before he could pull his hand away, the shadows closed around it. With a vicious jerk, his arm was broken. More darkness covered his mouth before he could scream aloud. A flash of black sliced a gash on his forehead and sent blood streaming down his face.
The Phantom's gaze slowly turned away from Mammoth. He followed it, finding that she was looking down. Somehow, in his flight, Mammoth had brought them to stand exactly where they had started. On one side of the catwalk—where the Phantom's eyes looked to—was the area of backstage where the audience could not see. He saw, with his face paling to a sickly white, Kali and the two managers helping Chaos to her feet. That the woman was alive was something utterly unbelievable. Mammoth had thrown her down headfirst with all his strength. He knew that he had heard her neck snap.
He looked back at the Phantom, unable to look away even though he looked into the eyes that made his legs threaten to buckle. She looked back at him, staring and staring. Mind quickened by the pain of his broken arm, Mammoth's eyes widened when he realized the truth. The Phantom saw this and felt the rush of terror that ran through him. The shadows clenched around Mammoth's hand and mouth suddenly turned him about and disappeared. He looked back over his shoulder, but the Phantom was nowhere to be found.
Without another thought, Mammoth began to run. He went as fast as he dared to, but his usual skill was ruined by panic. He was third most talented at hurrying along the catwalks, his footing almost unshakeable at any other time. At that moment, with his arm broken and his fate obvious and imminent, he tripped over his own feet and was forced to grab the ropes supporting the catwalks more than once.
It was well known that Chaos was far more nimble on the catwalks than Mammoth, but it was not known that someone could surpass Mammoth but not Chaos. The Phantom strode swiftly along behind Mammoth, unencumbered by the rocking and shaking the man's frantic pace set the catwalk to. She leapt up onto the rope strung up as a guard against falling and ran atop it—a trick Chaos had once performed for the young ballet dancers. She passed by Mammoth and sprang further onward, her landing purposefully heavy. Mammoth pitched forward, the catwalk throwing him off his feet. The Phantom dodged to the side, letting him pass by. He flew clear over the side of the catwalk, beginning his plummet to the stage a good fifty feet below.
Before he could scream, Mammoth felt something wrap around his neck.
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Starfire, unable to keep a giddy smile from her face, hurried back toward the stage. She was in the countess's costume, and had found a single red rose waiting in her dressing room. With the utmost caring and silent thanks, she had pressed her lips to the petals of the rose she knew Raven had left for her. Her spirits lifted to immeasurable heights, she had dressed as fast as possible and went back out to continue the opera.
As soon as she emerged backstage, she froze. She saw Kali leading Chaos away, unable to ignore the blood on Chaos's face or her broken arm. Hearing running footsteps above her, she turned her gaze upward in time to see everything.
Starfire saw Mammoth begin to fall and watched the Phantom expertly throw a lasso made of shadows around his neck. She stared as the lasso tightened and cut off Mammoth's cry of horror and found herself unable to turn away even as the man plunged toward the ballet dancers on the stage far below. Abruptly, the lasso grew taut. Mammoth jerked to a halt, the sound of his neck snapping like the crack of a whip. His feet dangled, twitching, within reach just over the ballet dancers' heads. There was a moment of silence before the screams began.
The audience were first: the women shrieked and the men gave bellows of astonishment. The ballet dancers, confused, began to look about. Bumblebee gave a blood-curdling scream when she saw Mammoth's feet above her head. In a mad panic, the dancers ran from the now-unmoving body. The black lasso flickered out of existence, letting the corpse fall to the stage.
"Ladies and gentlemen, do not panic!" Beast Boy howled from the manager's box. "Please, remain in your seats!"
The Phantom turned away, a smile on her face. She started to walk away, but her gaze traveled downward for another glance. Starfire's eyes were on her. Starfire saw the red light in her eyes and the smile on her face. Tucked away quietly behind the rage of the Phantom, Raven felt utter and abject horror. Starfire took a step backward, her eyes wide and her face ashen beneath her makeup. Before anything could be done, Starfire spun on heel and ran away.
"It was an accident!" Cyborg roared. "Just an accident!" As he spoke, the chandelier began to rock back and forth. The creaking of the metal grew louder and louder, but Raven did not turn to watch the climax of the evening. She slipped away into the shadows, hurrying to hide in them.
Even if the lights had not flickered for a sudden moment, no one would have seen the black flames burn away bits and pieces of the chains holding the chandelier in place. It pitched violently, the momentum of its swinging to and fro throwing it toward the stage. The audience screamed again, running from the massive chandelier.
Kitten—the woman who Jinx had recommended and who had replaced Kali—started to stand. One leg would not move, as something gripped her ankle painfully tight. She looked down to find a hand reaching up through the floor as if it were the hand of an intangible ghost. The instant before the chandelier crashed down upon her head, Kitten realized that she recognized the hand.
—to be continued—