Episode
No mask could hide the fear upon the countenance of those in attendance as the Red Death stalked through their precious party. From frivolity to fear...maybe that is how the gossip rags will report it tomorrow.
What concern is it of mine? They have my instructions and if those damnable fools of managers can't follow those... then they deserve whatever fate I decide for them.
Lead singers...laughable, truly laughable that anyone with any sense of pitch could listen to the warbling pair of Piangi and Carlotta and call it music. I can only imagine what possible sounds will erupt from them when they read through my masterpiece. It is above them. Above all of them but you.
I changed the entire second half of the opera once I knew what gift your voice was. What beauty and technique could combine to become had to be represented in my work...until your deceit. But even that can be written in- you...who are no better than Delilah, than Salome, than Eve herself. But this Don Juan shall be more tempting than the serpent, more than the apple.
Yes you- you lying, doe-eyed whore. Your fate I have already decided.
You will be mine.
You are mine.
Episode
Rehearsals are going horribly. Why did I believe that this excuse of a company could perform my masterpiece? No one understands the flow of the tonality, and it is all I can do not to Punjab the lot of them. Antoinette's dancers are no better- more like seizures than seduction.
But you Christine- you know this music, heard it the night you ripped the dream away. Magnificent sob, indeed. That sound from your throat was eclipsed only by the sound of my pitiful heart trying to escape the cage of my body. So yes- let it seep into every pore of your being. You will hear it every moment that you are on the stage and off and will know that you can never escape me.
For Mozart will make you weep Christine, but my Don Juan burns! Burns into your soul and I, yes I, will be there rising as the phoenix from the ashes! Your burnt soul will be as ugly as my face and then we shall be ugly together! Yes your poor Erik will have a companion in both his music and his ugliness...
You are mine, Christine. We shall burn together.