Erik's POV

Finally... after these twenty, long, grueling years...

It... is finished.

The greatest masterpiece that has ever been composed on earth, in any age, decade, century, millennium... is finally complete. A virginal masterpiece, never before performed in its full, tasted in its dark and hallowed, wretched glory... never having yet possessed any soul so fully as it has possessed mine, its master and creator...

Don Juan Triumphant.

All my sorrows and pains... all my loneliness, wretchedness, unworthiness... all of Erik's hideousness, his hellishness, his anguish and suffering... his wicked laughter and all his burning sins... his failures and triumphs... bound so simply intricate in the golden pages of this manuscript.

Hell burns in these pages.

Heaven?

Yes... Heaven, too, shines in these pages. Angels—I heard them!—I sensed them--wept beside me, pitied me... their pity is now the most lovely music ever to grace mankind...alas, how a faint chorus it is...but it is still there, and is quite aesthetic...

Christine...

Her soul has been imprinted like flashes of fire on these last pages, forever her purest divinity entwined with my villainous, unworthy, unworthy soul! Oh, what an angel she is... her hair is like gleaming silk...so soft, so deliciously scented! She astounds me! Even in the darkness of the abyss of this place... her eyes light up more fairly, more purely than light itself, I am sure! Her eyes mingle with mine and become one... I have her eyes... I! I see through them, in them, with them... and her delicate, full figure, more smooth, flawless and white than Pygmalion's Galetea, which I carved! I! How great a work of art!... her seraphic voice... She truly, truly is an angel! She is the Angel of Music incarnate! Ah! Most wretched heart! She is mine! Mine!

I must have her!

And now... I can. The fatal work is complete... the greatest composition to ever grace the face of the earth...

And the world will never know such greatness. The world and all its members will never burn as much as Erik has burned for the sake of this music... this music is too dark, too real, too powerful for them to know or understand...It will remain five floors below the Opera forever, trapped in the Darkness--where it was born and created--isolated from the Light, sequestered and protected from foolish men and their artificial civility, their superficial manners and lack of discretion... I should love to make them burn with this music, oh, I should love to see their souls squirm and their flesh become pallid and full of death, like mine! That they could be consumed in my gruesome Fate and know my tormenting ugliness for themselves, and drink heavily of the cup from which I have drunk for so many long and painful years! ...but I will not give them the pleasure of such hellish indulgence... to do such a thing would waste what little of my life is left... that life belongs to Christine, my lovely, perfect bride-to-be! It would not be fair to her to throw my life away. Since I am the only one who can perform it to perfection--yes, only I, Erik--it will never be played at all.

Oh, Christine, my beautiful and perfect, perfect Christine, who loves me for myself, as I am! You bring tears to my eyes—such good and holy tears!—thinking of it! That so late in life, I should finally find my blessing! I should finally be like everyone else! I, Erik! I! ...I! At last!

I will not tarry another minute away in little dreams and fantasies! I must see you now, and hear your voice, that I might see your rounded, lovely hand and think of touching it--kissing it!--and see you playing so artfully with that poor little Chagny's heart. If I did not know you better, I would truly think you to love him! How delightfully clever you are in that game! You please Erik very much and make him smile. But I know you love me, and you will always love me... forever...

Fate links thee to me forever and a day...