I'm not going to lie
and say that this is perfectly accurate, because it obviously can't
be since this phic is based off of the musical, the movie and the
novels. I tried to incorporate a bit of them all so please forgive
some confusion…anyhow…there are quotes from the Kay novel in this
chapter too. I don't own it…my name isn't Susan Kay. Obviously.
Thanks!
Syd
CHARLES
Damn them…damn them all! I
furiously threw a few items of clothing into a bag before turning to
leave my room for good. As I turned to leave, I saw Gabe standing in
the doorway.
"Get out." I said and he narrowed his eyes at
me.
"God, you're an imbecile." He said, making the rage
rise. I had never felt like this before, like I was watching myself
fall into this pit of destruction and I couldn't do a thing about
it.
"First you betray me, then you dare to tell me I'm
an imbecile?" I challenged him. "How could you do that to
Millie?" He became angry, pointing his finger at me.
"Don't
ever say that I would hurt Camille, because I love her. Madeleine
wasn't having an affair with me God damn you!" I became confused
now.
"She said she didn't know if she could ever feel
that way about me! I heard her Gabe!" I said, knowing I
sounded like a whining child. He shook his head sadly, looking at me
with pity.
"She wasn't talking about you, you idiot! She was
talking about her father! She figured out who he is!" He
practically screamed at me. I stopped dead, looking at him.
"Renaud
Champoux?" I asked and Gabe raised an eyebrow.
"No…it's
your father…it's Raoul…Raoul de Chagny." I dropped the bag
and sank to the floor. Then that would make us…no! It wouldn't,
for I wasn't Raoul's son. I buried my head in my hands as Gabe
knelt beside me.
"Look…she loves you…" He said and I
looked up at him.
"After the way I treated her…I can't…I
don't deserve her. I'm just going to go." I said quietly,
standing and walking out the door. He called after me.
"Charles!
You don't know the whole story! Don't go!" I couldn't
stay…there was nothing for me here but lies and betrayal.
I
mounted my horse and left my home for good, unsure of where I would
go, but certain of where I needed to go. The cemetery. I had to talk
to Mother. The wind was bitter cold, and stung my face but I didn't
care. I flew through the gates of the Paris Cemetery, my hair wild
and curly from neglecting to cut it for so long. I dismounted the
horse and led him to Mother's grave which was quite near my
grandfather's. Instantly, my heart leapt into my throat as it
always did when I saw her gravestone. As angry as I was with her, I
couldn't stay mad because I had loved her so much and still did. I
knelt before it, allowing myself to cry.
"Why? Why would you do
this to me? To him?" I asked her, knowing I wasn't going to get
an answer.
"The heart wants what it wants dear boy…" I
turned to see the Middle Eastern man from the opera standing there. I
stood, unsure of what to say or do. The man had sympathy and kindness
in his dark eyes.
"Monsieur Khan…" I said and he
nodded, smiling slightly.
"Come on son…let's get you some
food, you look ghastly." I nodded, turning to look one last time at
Mother's grave before turning to leave with the man. We rode back
into town and arrived at his hotel, where we tied up our horses and
went inside. Monsieur Khan stopped at the front desk.
"Mademoiselle,
if you could have dinner sent up to my room…my friend and I have
much to discuss." He led me up to his room, which was just a normal
nice hotel room, more upper class than anything and he motioned for
me to sit at the table.
"I would have suggested a restaurant,
but in the condition you're in, I can see you need to be away from
people right now. Tell me my boy…what happened?"
I
sighed.
"Everything I am is a lie…" I said, unsure of why I
was so comfortable talking to this foreign man. He nodded.
"Go
on…" He urged and I hesitated but continued.
"I recently
discovered that my father, is really not my father. If that makes any
sense at all. My mother had an affair of sorts I suppose and I was
the result. A man who my father spoke nothing but kind words about."
Monsieur Khan nodded.
"Erik." He said softly.
"You knew
him?" I asked and he sighed.
"Indeed dear child I did…you
see I was the chief of police in Mazenderan, or the daroga as I was
called. I never wanted a job as such. I was summoned by the shah and
sent to Russia to find the greatest magician who ever lived."
He
smiled slightly.
"I admit, I was a bit jarred when I found him,
for you see, he was dressed in all black except for the white mask,
which covered half of his face. He told me to come back the next
night and I was shocked at the beauty of his voice. I brought him
back to Persia and on the way learned he had horrid mood swings, yet
when he told stories…it was amazing. He could capture any audience.
I saw him kill for the first time on that journey back. He saved my
life that night. I took him to meet my son who was extremely ill.
Reza. Erik dazzled my son bringing him out of the darkness of disease
for a short while. When the shah demanded Erik's presence at court,
Reza was devastated and threw a fit, but with one word, he calmed the
child down and promised that if he was a good boy, he would return.
When he saw the poverty of Tehran, he was appalled and straight away
he wanted to rebuild the city."
Monsieur Khan stopped to laugh as I sat quietly. There was a knock at the door as he called to allow them in. They set up our dinner on the table and left us to eat in peace. "The day we arrived in court, he was up to his usual mischief. When he saw the swans, he was enthralled. Erik, you see, had a fascination with the creatures. I remember exactly what he said. 'Swans are ugly when they hatch, and yet they grow to be the most beautiful and majestic of birds…that is one of life's pretty miracles, is it not? Like the snake which sheds its skin and caterpillar which turns into a butterfly. Metamorphosis…Yes…that is the true magic in this world…but it's a secret that has never been revealed…not even to the tenth graduate of the College of Sorcery. Would you like to be turned into a swan daroga?'"
I
only looked at my food, completely lost.
"Daroga…sir…I
don't understand." I said, unsure of what to say. He smiled
sadly.
"Erik, my friend, was horribly deformed. The right side
of his face was completely mangled." I am sure my eyes had widened
because the man became solemn. He continued,
"Once, the khanum
ordered him to remove his mask, or she would…well, let's just say
the intended result wasn't pleasant…" He said, laughing. "Erik,
being the smart ass he was, snapped back and finally threw the mask
at her feet. That is when the khanum gave him the diamond ring he
always wore on his little finger." The daroga became silent for a
moment.
"My son's conditioned had worsened and he was confined to a wheeled chair. His sight was almost gone. Erik had stolen the king's cat to show Reza. I became angry with him, but he never got caught. Never. Reza began to suffer and Erik was as unable to watch him suffer as was I. He asked me to give him two months, and sure enough over those two months Reza deteriorated right before me. I couldn't do it anymore. Erik made a potion to put him to sleep…forever. I couldn't do it, so he did it for me and laid my son in my arms when he had died."
He had to stop for a
moment and catch his breath. I looked at him, hurting for him. He
looked up at me and smiled, motioning to my uneaten dinner.
"Eat
Charles…" He said and I took a bite of the cooked greens. He
nodded, ready to go on.
"The day finally came when they sent a
slave girl to Erik's chambers for him to use her as he wished. He
couldn't…he sent her away…I knew it would end horribly, but
they killed her. Soon, I realized he was horribly addicted to opium,
hoping to die. They turned on him and I had to get him out. I
couldn't watch them destroy him. We said our goodbyes and I didn't
see him again until 1875. I learned he had become a ghost of some
sorts. The opera ghost! He agreed to meet me once a week on the banks
of the lake…to keep track of his sanity…or lack thereof." He
chuckled.
"Six years passed before your mother and Erik communicated. Madame Giry had brought her to the opera after her father died when she was sixteen. She was so vulnerable…and innocent. As you can probably recall, her father used to tell her about the Angel of Music. Erik heard her calling out for him in the chapel. The Angel…that is. For months, he deceived her shamelessly, using guilt to control her with only his voice because he was in love with her, and Allah knows Erik should have never fallen in love. It was too dangerous. One night, he brought her through the mirror and down into his lair. After a production of Hannibal. That was when the madness ensued. That same night, the Vicomte de Chagny had seen her sing, and remembered her from their childhood. He had, of course, come to greet her and bring flowers to her. After he left, Erik had scolded her for allowing distractions in her life and she begged his forgiveness. That is when he revealed himself to her, acting purely on adrenaline and jealousy."
I sighed,
running a hand through my overgrown hair.
"She never spoke of
him…" I said quietly and the daroga smiled.
"No, she
wouldn't have, would she? It would have only hurt more…"
"With
the viscount, she found the safe young love that all girls dream of,
but in Erik, she found something terrifying yet she was unable to
leave. Like a moth to a flame. She did love him, she proved that fact
the night of Don Juan Triumphant. Raoul, in an effort to save
her from Erik, had ordered the police to be there and shoot if he
appeared. I knew these efforts would be ridiculous as did Madame
Giry, but what else could we do? We let the boy think he had the
upper hand. Still, when Erik appeared on that stage, I actually
feared for him. Christine knew too, and revealed him to the audience.
He reacted just as I'd suspected and the chandelier fell that night
as he took Christine. In doing this she saved his life. I led Raoul
into Erik's home and soon the boy had a noose around his neck and
Christine had an ultimatum. Choose Raoul and he dies. Of course, she
became angry, but she slid Erik's ring on her finger and kissed
him. He made her leave, much to her dismay. A month after that night,
she returned when Erik was very ill. She stayed in that room with him
and didn't emerge until Raoul came for her. Eight months later, you
were born and Erik had been assumed dead."
My eyes hurt,
burned actually. This had to be some insane dream. I tried to breathe
as he offered me water, which I took and choked down.
"Do you
think, daroga, that Erik is dead?" I asked, and he stared at me
with his black eyes for a few moments.
"He disappeared that
night, as did your parents. In his condition, I wasn't sure he'd
survive the night, but then I realized this was Erik…Erik who had
survived far worse things, yet this broken heart seemed to age him
drastically. The next morning, I went into the room to check on him
and he was gone, his bed neatly made, clothes left in the closets."
My hands began to tremble as I tried to savor the cool water, but I
couldn't hold the glass any longer. I took another breath.
"I
ask you again daroga…do you think that my father is dead?" He
thought for a moment before looking straight into my eyes.
"Not
for one second."
