Disclaimer: Andrew Lloyd Webber's version.
A/N: Thanks to the people who liked the first chapter, as well as the idea behind this story. But to everyone else… NO DIFFERENT SURPRISE ENDING FOR YOU!
Hahah lol, jk. I'm still going to make it end differently. It was what I was planning from the beginning.
"We're not safe here!"
Christian ran through the chaos of the backstage, followed closely by the new patron, his childhood sweetheart. They ran through the mess of panicked actors and stagehands, climbing ever higher, as though the Phantom was a flood that the pair could escape simply by climbing to higher ground.
"Christian!" Rebecca called, "Christian, why have you brought me here?"
"We can't go back there," Christian panted, his eyes wide.
"We must return."
"She'll kill you!" Christian turned back, panicked, "Her eyes will find us there…"
"Christian, don't say that…"
"Those eyes that burn!"
"Don't even think it!"
The boy bit his lip, casting his eyes around in the darkness as though searching for the white half-mask that once dwelt in his dreams… the face which now haunted a waking nightmare. "If she has to kill a thousand men..."
"Forget this waking nightmare!"
"The Phantom of the Opera will kill…"
"The Phantom is a fable, believe me!"
"And kill again!"
"There is no Phantom of the Opera!"
Christian pulled open the doors and plunged out into the night air. It was cold, and snow was falling lightly over the landscape. Down below, the audience scrambled for their carriages, determined to get away from the Opera at all cost. Rebecca stumbled out onto the opera roof after Christian. The boy was shaking, and it wasn't from the cold.
"Christian," Rebecca went towards him, "What's gotten into you? What happened?"
The young singer turned to her, his eyes filled with fear. "She killed him. And she…" Christian shook his head, trying to shake the memory from his mind, "She will kill again. She'll kill you, Rebecca!" Christian leant heavily against one of the Pegusus statues that adorned the roof. "The Phantom of the Opera…" He looked down - in his hands he held a rose. A blood-red rose tied with a black silk ribbon.
"There's no such thing!" Rebecca said softly, trying to console him.
"No?" Christian looked at her, with eyes so full of fear they made the countess pull back. "If she does not exist, then whose voice was it that demanded box number five?" He took a shuddering breath.
"Bec, I've been there
To her world of unending night
To a world where the daylight dissolves into darkness
Darkness…"
Christian turned, grabbing Rebecca by the shoulders, pleading with her to believe him.
"Bec, I've seen her
Can I ever forget that sight
Can I ever escape from that face, so distorted, deformed,
It was hardly a face in the darkness…
Darkness…"
He sighed, then cast his mind back, remembering his Angel's face the night she took him to the seat of music's sweet throne.
"Yet in her eyes, all the sadness of the world
Those pleading eyes that both frighten and adore…"
His eyes gazed into memory… her face, her voice, her form…
Rebecca saw the blood on his hands where the rose's thorns had pierced him. She shook her head, "Christian, she is just a woman. But she has you under some sort of spell."
Christian shook his head. "No, Rebecca, no spell. Just her music. Her voice, and her… her beauty." He sighed again. "She's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."
Rebecca watched her childhood sweetheart for a moment, her conflicting thoughts playing plainly on her face. Christian, sensing he offended her, lowered his head. But Rebecca put a hand to the side of Christian's face, trying to calm him. "Christian… Oh, Christian…"
On the wind came the soft mocking echoes of the Phantom's voice, still as warm and seductive as it had been. Christian… Christian cast his eyes about once more, but it was just the wind… and his memories. Nothing more. For a moment, Christian thought he smelt the dark musk perfume the Phantom wore… but like the voice, it was just an illusion.
Rebecca's gentle glove hand turned Christian's face towards her, and slowly, she pulled him towards her. She embraced him, gently, hesitantly, but with all the force of one who has kept her love hidden for so long.
"No more talk of darkness,
Forget these wide-eyed fears -
I'm here. Nothing can harm you;
My words will warm and calm you."
She stroked the side of his face, her eyes softening as she soothed his fears.
"Let me be your freedom,
Let daylight dry your tears -
I'm here, with you, beside you,
To guard you and to guide you…"
Christian stared at Rebecca for a moment, then lifted his own hand, to caress the side of her face.
"Say you'll share with me
One love, one lifetime,
Say the word and I will follow you…"
Rebecca smiled at him, and suddenly, both of them were crying, both of them wiping away each others' tears.
"Share each day with me, each night, each morning…"
"Anywhere you go let me go too…"
Rebecca's eyes and Christian's eyes locked… and suddenly the cold and the snow no longer mattered. Thoughts of the Phantom were far from their mind. All that mattered was each other. Christian let the rose fall from his hand as he held Rebecca in his arms.
"Love me… that's all I ask of you…"
And then they kissed. If kisses were music, this kiss was a full orchestra piece, the score loud and triumphant, heralding the arrival of two lovers as they began their journey together. This was a clashing of cymbals, the cheering of violins, the applause of the brass and woodwinds.
Christian looked down into Rebecca's eyes. Rebecca looked deep into his. And they kissed again.
Eventually, the cold brought the lovers back to earth. Christian shivered apologetically. "We should go. They'll wonder where I am." He smiled and led her by the hand. "Come with me, Bec."
"Christian, I love you." She followed, her eyes staring deep into his. They kissed again.
Christian, seized by the moment, grinned, and suggested a plan. Rebecca's eyes glinted, and she too grinned, sharing his enthusiasm. They laughed and sang about their future together as they climbed back down into the opera house together. Holding hands.
The snow outside continued to fall. From behind one of the statues, a shadow disengaged itself and crunched slowly across the roof. A gloved hand reached down and picked up the rose that Christian had dropped - no, thrown aside. The blood had been washed from the rose's thorns and stained the snow red.
The Phantom raised the red blossom to her face and pressed it against her lips, as though it were Christian himself.
"I gave you my music…
Made your song take wing
And now, how you've repaid me
Denied me and betrayed me…"
The Phantom breathed in the scent of the rose, as though trying to breathe in one last memory of Christian. What was visible of her face was torn in anguish, and tears welled up in her eyes. She remembered the way the countess had smiled, how she'd held him… how she'd kissed him.
"She was bound to love you
When she heard you sing
Christian…"
The Phantom fell forward, the rose held to her lips, and began to sob brokenly. The snow continued to fall, uncaring of the grief-stricken figure on the Opera House roof.
And then, echoing though the halls of the Opera House came two voices, singing together. The Phantom's tears dried up as she lifted her head to listen.
It was Rebecca and Christian singing their sweet duet.
"Say you love me
Every waking moment,
Turn my head with talk of summertime…"
The Phantom's grief turned slowly to rage. The hand which had so gently caressed the rose before now crushed it in a vice-like grip. Scarlet petals fell slowly with the snow. As the notes of the lovers' song continued, the Phantom's mouth twisted in a snarl.
"Say you need me
With you, now and always…"
With a scream, the Phantom threw what remained of the rose aside and ran from the rooftop. She clambered up on top of one of the statues and screamed her vengeance at the night sky. The breeze lifted her cry and let it echo across the square.
"YOU'LL CURSE THE DAY YOU DID NOT DO
ALL THAT THE PHANTOM ASKED OF YOU!"
With a final keening wail, the Phantom leapt off the building and was whisked away into darkness.
It had been three months. Three months of peace, and quiet… and no Opera Ghost! Three months, and a brand new year was beginning. The managers Firmin and Andre were hosting a masquerade ball at the Opera Populaire, all the all the rich and famous were going to be there.
Rebecca and Christian entered the ball, dressed to the nines and beaming with a secret joy. Christian had finally scraped up enough money - and courage - and had asked Rebecca to marry him. She had accepted - they had been engaged for little under a month. She wore a thin gold band on a chain around her neck now. Christian looked at it, a little ashamed. When he could afford better, he would by her a diamond ring, a ring the woman he loved truly deserved.
Rebecca caught him staring at the ring. She hugged his arm. "You look nervous Christian. Is everything alright?"
Christian forced himself to smile for her. "Of course." He winced mockingly. "It's just… well, I don't think you should wear that ring so obviously."
"Why?" Rebecca asked, batting her eyelashes at him teasingly. "Scared that it's going to look like I'm the one who gave you your promotion?"
Both of them had heard the rumours. That Christian had only been given the lead roles because of the mysterious Opera Ghost… who was, according to gossip, the Countess herself. Favours for favours, wagged the tongues. But it was all hearsay and rumours.
The Opera Ghost… Christian stared off into the distance and thought of his angel just briefly. He wondered where she had gone… He wondered if he'd ever hear her voice again…
"Come on, darling," Rebecca tugged at his arm, smiling, "Let's dance."
Christian smiled, eager to turn his thoughts away from the past. After all, the New Year would soon begin, and it was a time to look forward to bright new things. He took Rebecca in his arms and twirled her around. They danced together for a while, then both Christian and Rebecca were pulled apart and danced with other partners. They saw snatches of each other's faces through the crowd, but they knew, that by the last dance, they would be together again.
Masks flashed past in gold and black and white. Faces and half-faces, snatches of familiarity amongst the strange and unknown. There, there was El Cobalto and his newest wife, Piratta (There were rumours she was nothing more than a gypsy girl, but as far asEl Cobalto was concerned, she was a queen). The two managers and their girlfriends for the evening. Patrons of the arts. Madam Giry and her daughter in matching oriental outfits. It was a wild array of colour and glitter and sound.
And suddenly, in the middle of it all, stepped a figure dressed in the colour of blood.
The music and gaiety of the ball died as the Phantom stepped down in the revellers midst. Under a half-mask, the woman's scarlet lips parted in a mocking grin. It was no coincidence that her masquerade mask was that of a skull.
Christian froze, feeling the blood drain from his face at the sight of the Phantom.
"Why so silent, good monsieurs?" she greeted the managers, who were frozen in fear on the steps she was descending. "Did you think I had left you for good?" She paced down the steps like a hunting wildcat - she took each step deliberately, her blood-red gown swishing with each step.
"Have you missed me? Well, I have returned!" She laughed, spreading her arms to the roomful of guests. "Am I not allowed to enjoy a New Years Masquerade with the rest of you?" She sighed, then turned back to Firmin and Andre. She had a leather-bound manuscript in her hand; she threw it contemptuously at them. "I wrote you an opera, good monsieurs." She looked down at them. "Do not disappoint me again." She started to turn away, then looked back, and with a devastating smile, asked, "Do you believe in me now, monsieurs?"
Judging from the fear on their faces, they did. And so did the rest of the crowd.
Christian felt himself drawn to the woman in red, like a compass-point to the North. She had returned. His Angel had come back to him! … Rebecca! Where on Earth was Rebecca? He turned, scanned the crowd with his eyes, but every face was fixed on the Phantom. Rebecca was lost to him.
"Did you wonder where I was all this time?" She asked, her voice soft and cold. "Well?" When no-one answered, the Phantom's eyes narrowed to slits behind the mask as she surveyed the crowd.
"For three months I have been trying to make up my mind
For three months I have been weighing up my heart…"
She stepped down into the crowd, who parted around her, fearfully. She strode purposefully, deliberately… towards Christian. Christian swallowed, stared. The Phantom's gown displayed her bosom to good effect. Pale skin and blood-red gown… Christian swallowed again as the Phantom stood directly in front of him.
"Christian," she purred, smiling. "Oh, Christian, I've missed you so very, very much…"
"I missed you too," Christian found himself saying. "Where were you?"
The Phantom's smile vanished. "Writing the opera… for you." She whirled back to face the managers, who were trying to creep away. "Christian will have the lead role, gentlemen. This time. Won't he?"
Firmin and Andre managed weak nods. With a predatory smile, the Phantom turned back to Christian…
And found herself staring into the hostile face of the Countess Rebecca. The tension in the air almost crackled.
"Move, girl." The Phantom said, voice on the verge of a snarl. "I will not ask you again."
"He does not belong to you," Rebecca hissed in reply. "Christian belongs to no-one!"
The Phantom's eyes grew flinty. "Really?"
The countess stood her ground. "Leave him, murderer. He is free now."
Suddenly, the Phantom caught sight of the ring Rebecca was wearing. She stared, horrified, then turned to Christian, pleading. "Tell me that is not your ring she wears."
Christian stared between the two women. Rebecca stood her ground and glowered up at the Phantom, while the Phantom, his Angel of Music, looked to him, tears in her eyes, begging that it wasn't so.
"I am engaged to Rebecca," he said mechanically, not wanting to betray his feelings.
The Phantom gave a shriek and drew back her hand. Christian flinched, but it was Rebecca that felt the blow. She fell to her knees and cried out as she hit the floor. The crowd drew back even further.
"NO!" Christian leapt forward, and knelt back down the Rebecca's side to hold her in his arms. She was fine - the Phantom's slap had not drawn blood.
"I made you!" The Phantom screamed at Christian. "You're NOTHING without ME!"
"No!" Christian said, angered, "I'm a prisoner! You keep me here to sing to you, like a bird in a cage!"
The Phantom shook her head, suddenly afraid and repentant, rocking back on her heels. "Christian, no," she whispered, pleading, "I did it for you. All for you. Everything. The operas… the music… me… "
"You're a murderer! You're a monster!" Christian shouted, then stopped short, suddenly realising what he had said. But it was too late to call the words back.
The Phantom's heart was broken.
"Monster?" She cried. "Monster?" With a broken cry, she turned on her heels and fled, sobbing.
"Angel, wait!" Christian called out. But the weight of Rebecca in her arms, and the smell of the roses, topped him from rising to his feet. "Forgive me!"
"Let her go," Rebecca said softly, rising to her feet. "She's a madwoman." She pulled at Christian. "We should go."
Christian watched as the Phantom pushed her way through the crowd, no longer self-assured, but panicky and close to tears. He'd seen her face in the darkness, with the music of the night. And he still loved her. But he knew her weakness.
"And never come back!" Rebecca shouted, in defiance.
Those were the words that stopped the Phantom in her tracks. She turned, slowly, a terrible light shining in her eyes.
"Never?" She said, her voice icy. "Never come back?" She laughed, the laugh of a madman, and turned her eyes to Christian.
"I gave your voice wings
Taught you to soar
I gave you everything
And so much more!"
"Leave him alone!"
The Phantom glowered down at Christian, as though it were he, not Rebecca, who had spoken. "Leave you, Christian? Leave you?" She laughed again. "I can never leave you, Christian. I'm am in you, Christian. I am part of you! I will never leave you!" Her shout echoed in the room, again and again.
Rebecca stared, open-mouthed, at the woman whom Christian had adored for so many years. A madwoman! Insane! Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Madam Giry look aside. The only face that did not stare at the Phantom.
"Your chains are still mine," The Phantom smiled a frightening smile at Christian. "You belong to me…" Suddenly, there was a rush of flame. The crowd screamed, and pulled back. Christian turned his back to the flames to shield Rebecca. When they both turned back, the woman in red was gone. All that was left was the stink of fear.
The bells began to toll midnight. But no-one felt like celebrating.
A/N: Male phantom equals heartbroken misunderstood genuis. Female phantom equals crazed psychopathic stalker. Really? Well, wait and see.