ERIK
I watched Danielle slip away from me again. No! I slammed my fist into the side of the nearest headstone. Why did I always have to push her away? I was so stupid! I tried to calm myself by taking a deep breath; little of my anger and self loathing faded. But now I was faced with the challenge of getting home. Danielle had taken Cesar, leaving the carriage. I'd have to find a way to rent a horse or steal one and make it look like it ran away. I walked the way of the carriage and found… nothing. My horse was gone, the carriage was gone; there was nothing left aside from the grooves in the snow that indicated movement. They had hitched up both horses and brought the carriage home, successfully stranding me here. A spark of anger licked at the kindling that was my waiting temper.
No. This was better. Now that I didn't have to worry about returning my opera's property, it left me with only the worry of getting home, a situation easily remedied. All I had to do was make it to one of the bigger towns and hire a cab to take me along the back roads to a point near enough to the Opera house so that it wouldn't raise suspicion, and also wasn't too far, or exposed, to walk. I swallowed the bitterness of my thoughts and walked as quickly as I could without looking suspicious down the road I had come up while taking an unconscious Danielle to the cemetery.
I was thankful for the long, heavy black cloak that I had brought from home, it was proving to be quite useful in both keeping me warm and shielding my face from view. The next cabby station was ten minutes down the road, just when you turned to go to the cemetery. While on foot, it took me almost double that amount, but I knew it was easy from there on out. I rapped on the window of the foreman office. A pudgy middle aged man with a balding head leaned out and spoke in a gruff voice.
"Need something?" I felt a twinge of annoyance towards this moronic man. Of course I needed something, I needed a coach, what other possible reason could I have for knocking on his window?
"I would like to request the usage of one of your drivers to take me to the Rue Scribe," I said, holding the fabric close over my face. He squinted and looked at me sideways.
"Why you got that cloak covering your whole head?" He asked, lacking the modesty or brain power to ignore it.
"It it quite cold out and I was feeling a tad numb. How much for a coach?" I tried to get back to business with him, hoping the topic would distract him.
"Well, it ain't that far, so I'll say ten francs." The man leaned his arm out the window, palm up, ready to accept the money. I held my grumbles in and handed him the money; this situation was too risky to argue with him, no matter how obscene the price. "Ay! Jim! Come give this gent a ride up to the Scribe, would ya?" The pudgy man yelled directly in my ear and I had to resist the urge to kill him. The scrawny looking coach driver, Jim apparently, hopped up from where he sat and jogged over with a smile.
"Sure thing, boss!" He said in such a cheery voice I almost strangled him. How dare he act like he hardly had a care in the world. Maybe he was soft in the head. "Right this way Monsieur!" He beamed at me and brought me to the closed in buggy, opening the door for me and, with a sweeping gesture, beckoned me inside. I tried my best to ignore his bravado and climbed into the warmth of the cab. I rubbed my one good eyes with weariness, I had almost not slept a wink for days and by God, this man was annoying.
I had thought getting into the carriage would make him stop talking, as we were separated by the walls of the carriage, but he insisted on opening the small window separating us and letting in the cold air so he could jabber at me. I could feel my patience thinning with each word.
"Will you kindly close your mouth and leave me too my thoughts?" I snapped at him. He seemed to start and close in on himself.
"Yessir, sorry sir." Irrationally I began to feel bad for reprimanding at him so; being so close to Danielle for so long has made me soft hearted. I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to make the bitterness that came with these words go away.
"I apologize for yelling so; I have had a trying few months and I wish to rest as much as I can." The boy looked back for a split second, apologetically.
"No, no, I was the one at fault, I'm sure that you have had a trying time; I mean, you walked to the company out of the snow! I should have taken the hint and let you alone." His embarrassment was almost tangible. He looked to be no older than Danielle was. Danielle herself looked young for her age, with her small, slender frame and cherub face. It was really her features that made her look older than she was, the two balanced her out to her proper age. It was her eyes, the way she looked made it seem as though she had seen too much in her short life; from the story she told me, I knew that to be true and by the way she held herself, it was different from anyone I had met or observed. "Here you are, sir! The Rue Scribe!" I looked out the window and saw the familiar, chilly back streets near my Opera Populaire.
"Thank you." I tipped him and I walked away.
"Ah, Monsieur!" I turned to look over my shoulder; what could the boy want? "Good luck with your lady!" I was taken aback.
"There is no lady." I insisted, but he merely laughed.
"The look on your face is the look of a man troubled by love." I scowled at him, he laughed and drove away, calling his luck to me over his shoulder. I didn't need his luck, I had my own methods.
Finally back in my home I began plotting for the night. Tonight was the night my opera was to grace the stage of the Opera Populaire and I would finally get what I deserved.
I looked at my deformed face in the mirror; most of it was hidden by the wig that I automatically reached to fix atop my head and pull the black half mask into place, so it covered my deformity while leaving the normal side untouched.
"Seal my fate tonight
I hate to have to cut the fun short
But the joke's wearing thin
Let the audience in
Let my opera begin!" Took a candle from my desk and walked to the miniature of the stage I had created during the long sleepless nights, now that I didn't have Don Juan to work on anymore. Soon it would be over; only an hour away was one of the most important moments of my life, and I was ready.
DANIELLE
It felt like a knife was twisting in my guts, that was definitely the truth. It was about ten minutes to curtain and I was all but climbing the walls. I tried to center myself my breathing, but it never felt like I was able to suck in enough air, so no matter what I was panting. I tried to make my breathing regular, but I was too worked up; it was almost like I had to run a mile in gym class again (although, the last mile I'd had to run was three years ago and I had to be brought to the hospital because the constant running fucked my heart up a bit. If I hadn't decided not to press charges, the teacher would have been fired and had his teaching licence revoked. That had made me a saint amongst the other students. I'd rather be running the mile than doing this.
God, Erik was probably going to sneak up behind Christine during a song and me and Raoul are going to have to go into the bowels of the opera to save her. At least this way we didn't have to break the chandelier. Finally, trying to get myself together, I huddled into a ball where I was standing and wrapped my arms around myself, trying to block out everything.
"Danielle?" I looked up. Raoul was crouching in front of me. "Are you alright?"
"Do I look alright, you aristocratic Pepe Le Pew?" I spat at him, feeling my hackles rising, like a dog. Raoul drew back, surprised. "I'm sorry, this is just really getting to me. What do you want?" I could feel myself sagging back into the crouch.
"I want to know everything. And I want to know why you refuse to tell us." Hadn't I told them before? Told them how a story needs to stay on track?
"Well, Erik's mom gave birth to him and his parents hated how he looked, so they sold him to gypsies who paraded him around in a freak show. They hardly fed him and he almost died on several occasions. He managed to escape by killing his captor and finding his way to the Opera with the help of a young Madame Giry. He spent his entire life getting kicked around and hated until he has the chance to help a little Swedish girl by pretending to be an angel sent by her father and teaching her to sing. Everything's going great until her kiddie crush decides to drop in and ruin his chances, sending him into a jealous rage, causing several murders and heartaches. Then shit goes down and there we are. Anything else?" I could tell he was mad at me for being so vague. "You know I can't interfire. Don't worry, you'll be fine. In no version have you ever died. I think. I haven't seen many." I smiled apologetically. He looked so scared I laughed out loud. "I'm joking, don't worry!"
"That wasn't funny." He scowled, but the look of relief on his face was obvious.
"You know it was; one day you'll look back on this and laugh like I am now." I punched him in the being such a pushy jerk. Right now I'd rather talk to Erik than you." I stood. "And I'm pretty pissed at him."
"You didn't seem mad at him when you called for him in the cemetery." Raoul shot back. I put my hands on my hips, sticking one to the side.
"He has the power to hypnotise anyone with his voice, he made me forget I was mad at him, now I'm madder than I was before." I waved my hand in front of my face in a 'get on with it' motion.
"Why did you speak to him in the first place? How did you meet him?" Finally a good question.
"When I first got here. Somehow I managed to find myself on the stage; I was singing to a make believe audience in the Royal Albert Hall, then suddenly I was here. I had my eyes closed and when I opened them I hears someone calling down to me, claiming to be the Angel of Music." I let out a harsh laugh. "Who would believe that? I'm not religious! And I read the book and saw the play, so I thought it was my new friend, Ramin, pranking me by doing the Angel of Music thing. But no, somehow I was transported into the Phantom of the Opera. I went out the door and saw the horse and carts, went back inside then passed out. Erik caught me and brought me to Madame Giry. She got the old manager to let me stay. He started talking to me and offered me lessons, how could I say no? You've heard his voice, it's like an angel come to Earth. I never believed in any angel, but I played along. I met people and made friends. I met Blaise." I felt my heart squeeze and tears collect in the corners of my eyes. "Erik got jealous of him and brought me into his lair, revealing himself. We had a few arguments after that and then my best friend died." Raoul's eyes matched mine; the image of sorrow. "Erik sculpted his grave stone. After that he fucked up again and I stopped speaking to him, which led to the scene between us that you witnessed in the graveyard, and here we are." I could see the wheels in his head turning.
"So you could tell us where it is! We could apprehend him and bring him to justice." I shook my head just as he began speaking.
"I'm not going to help you. Whatever you decide, you do it with Christine and your army of french policemen." His eyebrows rose in shock.
"How did you know about them?" Was he an idiot?
"I'm from the future. You hear m E. I know what's going to happen. I can almost quote you verbatim. You want to use me so that Erik will fall into your trap. Do you really think you can out maneuver the Phantom of the Opera in his own habitat?" Raoul looked embarrassed, caught in his hidden plan. "Really I don't care, but I'm not going to jiggle my tits to get him to focus on me if you try sneaking up behind him with a giant net." Raoul went red. "If he's stupid enough to get caught, then he will." I hugged him tightly. "Just don't get yourself killed looking for revenge. You're still my friend; conniving Frenchman or not." Raoul gave me one of his beautiful smiles, one I was sure I'd miss when I was gone.
"And you… you're a… an overly emotional colonist." I laughed at him; he was finally able to use an insult for humor.
"You're damn right, frenchie." I turned to step into my place, ready for the beginning dance number to finish. The curtain went up and the dancers went on stage. "Now get to your box and I'll see you after the show." I smiled back at him and he ran to get in his box. I turned to the stage and listened to the song that was so familiar.
Meg and Christine were dressed in raunchy dressed with a pound of makeup, looking like a pair of prostitutes.
"Here the sire may serve the dam,
Here the master takes his meat!
Here the sacrificial lamb
Utters one despairing bleat!" The instruments clashing together made a noise so inherently sexual, the audience gasped and covered their ears. good thing that the tickets were nonrefundable.
"Poor young maiden! For the thrill
On your tongue of stolen sweets
You will have to pay the bill -
Tangled in the winding sheets!" Carlotta's voice stood out among the rest, clashing garishly. Still, I would give anything just to go back to the beginning and put up with her singing 'Think of Me'.
"Serve the meal and serve the maid!
Serve the master so that, when
Tables, plans and maids are laid,
Don Juan triumphs once again!" My cue was soon and I started shaking. This was the biggest part of my life, in an actual Opera House in Paris. My heart seemed to move into my throat and my knees had turned to jelly. I took deep breaths and let out my energy by doing a few jumping jacks while Piangi sang.
"Passarino, faithful friend,
Once again recite the plan."
"Your young guest believes I'm you -
I, the master, you, the man." I didn't watch them, I was too busy listening for my cue.
"When you met you wore my cloak,
With my scarf you hid your face.
She believes she dines with me,
In her master's borrowed place!
Furtively, we'll scoff and quaff,
Stealing what, in truth, is mine.
When it's late and modesty
starts to mellow, with the wine." God, this is deeply fucked up.
"You come home! I use your voice -
Slam the door like crack of doom!"
"I shall say: 'come - hide with me!
Where, oh, where? Of course - my room!'"
"Poor thing hasn't got a chance!"
"Here's my hat, my cloak and sword.
Conquest is assured,
If I do not forget myself and laugh." Piangi walked off laughing a merry belly laugh. Holy shit, that was my cue. I picked up the basket of roses and skipped on stage, rocking my hips flirtatiously and smiling.
"No thoughts within her head,
But thoughts of joy.
No Dreams within her heart,
But dreams of love." I dropped the basket at the foot of the table and raised my hands up in glee, I looked like Snow White. I bent over the table, my breasts popping up in my shirt and grabbed an apple.
"Master-"
"Passarino -
Go away for the trap it is set
And waits for it's prey." The Italian lit was not lost, but the beautiful, enthral voice was unmistakably Erik's. I shined the apple by rubbing it to a rosy hue against my breast.
"You have come here
In pursuit of your deepest urge
In pursuit of that wish which till now
Has been silent
Silent." I looked over my shoulder at him; Erik was covered in a dark cloak, that no one but I could see the face beneath the hood; it hung perfectly so the light would always cast a shadow on his face. On the second silent, he lifted a long lean finger to his hidden-from-all-but-me lips. I gave him a lusty gaze.
"I have brought you
That our passions may fuse and merge
In your mind you've already succumbed to me,
Dropped all defenses," He grabbed a goblet, that was supposed to be filled with wine, but wasn't really, for obvious reasons. I moved away from him, carelessly throwing the apple in the air, watching it catch the light and letting it fall back into my palms.
"Completely succumbed to me
Now you are here with me
No second thoughts
You've decided
Decided." He plucked the apple from my hand; he was so close I could feel his breathing on my neck. He held the goblet aloft, for all to see, near the end of the verse He slowly offered me the wine. I looked around coyly, trying to decide whether I drank the wine or not.
"Past the point of no return
No backward glances
Our games of make-believe are at an end." I looked away from him, only to have him gently have him turn me towards him again. The male dancers, all dressed in black, came out from behind the fiery scenes that reminded me of the movie and began to dance. I knew Henri was among them. I pretended to take a long drink. Erik began to pace around me, I copied his movements so we were always facing each other.
"Past all thought of 'if' or 'when'
No use resisting
Abandon thought and let the dream descend," he suddenly reached out and grabbed my raised wrist and we took three quick steps back. He spun me away from him a bit and grabbed me tenderly by the throat, pressing our bodies together and singing right in my ear.
"What raging fire shall flood the soul
What rich desire unlocks it's door
What sweet seduction lies before us?" His hand slunk down my arm, trying to lace our fingers together, but I pulled away and went to sit on the bench.
"Past the point of no return
The final threshold." He came to sit beside me, pressing our bodies together once more and let his hand wander lewdly up my side.
"What warm unspoken secrets
Will we learn
Beyond the point of no return?" He pulled me from my sitting position, still pressed against him, towards the winding staircase he would later have to walk up, with one hand clasped in mine and extended and the other on top of mine, slowly working its way up my side. He let me go and I backed away to center stage, ready to sing my verse.
"You have brought me
To that moment when words run dry
To that moment when speech disappears
Into silence
Silence." I turned and sang at him, but his eyes were not on me, they were on box five, where Raoul sat, tense and alert. Behind him stood a police officer; what was the word for them, gendarmes?
"I have come here,
Hardly knowing the reason why
In my mind I've already imagined
Our bodies entwining." I ran my fingers from my hair to my breasts before lacing my fingers together.
"Defenseless and silent,
Now I am here with you
No second thoughts
I've decided
Decided." I pushed the hair over my shoulder, being as flirty and sexual as possible, leaning back against the table, letting it dig slightly into my back; I grabbed a cloth napkin from the table and carelessly flung it behind me. Erik came and sat on the bench again. It might have been a trick of the light, but I could swear I saw him lick his lips. Mine quirked into a smirk.
"Past the point of no return
No going back now
Our passion-play has now at last begun." I sang into his ear causing him to shiver and pull away. We walked to our staircases and slowly ascended.
"Past all thought of right or wrong
One final question
How long should we two wait before we're one?" We stopped at a turn, facing each other I leaned forward so he could get a better view of my cleavage. I could see his fingers digging into the wood as he leaned forward, to me. I smiled seductively and licked the corner of my lips before continuing on.
"When will the blood begin to race
The sleeping bud burst into bloom
When will the flames at last consume us?" I stood across from him, finally at the top of the stairs. Erik unclipped the clasp around the neck of the cloak and, with a flourish, revealed himself to the audience.
"Past the point of no return
The final threshold," We walked to each other, again completely absorbed in each other, not caring who was there.
"The bridge is crossed
So stand and watch it burn
We've passed the point of no return." We collided and Erik spun me around. He lovingly caressed my stomach, covering my hands with his; he let his thumbs trace my hipbones. The music had lulled and my mind was hazy, not because Erik had put me in a trance, but because he was so close. How I had missed this, missed being near him, making jokes and laughing; just being together. I missed him, everything about him.
"Say you'll share with me
One love, one lifetime
Lead me, save me from my solitude." I opened my eyes, not realizing I had let them slide shut. I looked to the boxes, automatically looking at Erik's, but there sat Raoul; his eyes were sad and watery blue. Why was he so sad? I stopped thinking because Erik began to caress my throat, as if to massage the vocal cords beneath the thin walls of flesh and sinew.
"Say you want me
With you here
Beside you." I looked around at him; he held my hands to his heart and I nearly burst into tears. How had I been so blind as to not see it sooner? He had brought me, alone, to the cemetery to bring me to him. He gave me the lead in Don Juan and made Christine a silent prostitute. He was offering his heart, body, soul and love to me. I smiled a watery smile, letting a lone tear trickle down my cheek.
"Anywhere you go
Let me go too
Danielle, that's all I ask of-" he was roughly cut off my someone ripping the mask and wig from his head, unveiling his deformity for all to see. Screams of disgust and horror filled the room. Horrified I looked behind Erik to see who had so viciously unmasked him. Christine stood there looking white and terrified, still holding the mask and wig aloft.
CLIFFHANGER! Chapter thirty! And it only took me almost a year to get here! The one year anniversary is coming up on the eighth! Thank you to everyone who stuck with me through this year, and all the new fans who were rounded up as the story went on. When the last chapter comes I will be taking questions, any questions, that my fans want to ask. If you didn't understand something write me a question in the reviews box when you read the last chapter and I'll answer it. I'll wait a week for questions to come in and if none come, that'll be that. You can ask as many as you want. Remember to review and no character, besides my own, belong to me. hope you enjoy!