It was Friday night, the night of the performance of Il Muto. I walked into my dressing room with Claudia close at my heels. She had barely left my side for five minutes since I had returned from Erik's lair. I had seen Raoul talking to her and suspected that he had told her to keep an eye on me. It was the first time I had returned to the dressing room since Erik had practically thrown me into it the day he brought me back.
How I had wanted to talk to him! But I could not find the words, not when my feelings were so completely jumbled! I had felt so guilty after I had ripped his mask off. He was right, he had been good to me and I had repaid him by sneaking up on him and unmasking him. Yes, he had come to me under false pretenses. He was not the Angel of Music. But now I knew why he hid in the shadows, why he wore the mask.
But none of this helped me understand my muddled emotions. Part of me felt that I cared for him, more than I could admit, while the spoiled, selfish part of me was still recoiled at the thought of his face.
Then there was Raoul, who seemed to be underfoot every time I turned around. He was sweet and charming, not pressing me for details about where I had been as everyone else did. He brought me flowers and chocolates and begged me nightly to dine with him. I declined, however, not feeling I was fit company in the state I was in.
Carlotta had been in quite a temper since I had returned. Rumor had it that the Opera Ghost had demanded I get the lead in Il Muto and Carlotta the silent role of the Pageboy. The manager's had refused, however, despite talk of a 'disaster' that would occur. So consequently Carlotta was on my case constantly, criticizing every move I made.
My thoughts were constantly with Erik. I thought of our time together, the sound of our voices as we sang. At the most inopportune moments I would remember the intensity of the blue fire in his eyes. I remembered flashes of desire that I had seen, and the terrible hurt and anger after I had removed his mask. The thought of his anger still made me cringe.
I sighed as Claudia bustled me behind the dressing screen and helped me into my costume. When I emerged again I glanced at the mirror, wondering if Erik stood behind it, watching me. Claudia refused to leave me alone, however, so I could not find out if he was there or not.
"It is time, Mademoiselle," Claudia said, breaking my reverie. I nodded and followed her out of the dressing room. I looked over my shoulder at the mirror one last time, wishing I could just hear his voice again.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
I watched Christine from behind the mirror. Her green eyes stared intently at me, though I knew she had no idea whether I was there or not. I could not tell what she was thinking.
Rarely did I feel out of control of my emotions. In fact, I prided myself on being calm and in control. But since I had taken Christine to my world below the Opera House my emotions had been in a constant state of turmoil.
If only she knew how I adored her. I wanted nothing more than to be with her, to know her love. To see those green eyes look at me with love, not fear. To know she loved me, that I did not disgust her.
But I had not lived as long as I had by harbouring false hopes. Since the moment I realised that my Mother wanted nothing to do with me, had only kept me out of some twisted religious fear of God, I knew that I would never find love. I was a freak, a monster. My face had been used to frighten children. The only woman that had ever desired me had desired my mystery, not my self, and she had died as a result of that desire, and I had lost my mentor, the one person who had ever accepted me, as a result. I was a killer, a freak, a monster. I had certainly heard the words enough in my lifetime to know that they were true.
I had resigned myself long ago to being alone, to being always on the outside. To never know love. But Christine Daae had broken through that resolve and shown me that I could, in fact, love.
My grand plan to get her where I wanted her, as the leading lady of the Paris Opera house, was foolproof. After tonight, Christine would be guaranteed the lead. She would be the Prima Donna. I smiled grimly as I turned from the mirror and made my way to see if the Vicomte was really foolish enough to sit in my box after my warning.
When I reached the hidden doorway I heard voices.
"Gentlemen, would you care to take your seats? I shall be sitting here, in Box Five," Raoul said.
"Do you really think that wise, Monsieur?" Andre asked, apparently from the Manager's Box.
"My dear Andre!" Raoul said with a laugh, "There would appear to be no seats available other than Box Five!"
Fuming, I stalked through the passageway. I had warned them, and they chose to ignore my warnings. Well, after tonight there would be no doubt what the Phantom was capable of! I made my way to the passageway backstage.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
The production began smoothly. Despite the slight feeling of unease among the performers there were no problems. As my part was rather small, I spent a good deal of time backstage, waiting.
Carlotta, as the Countess, was the largest role and she was onstage most of the time. But if she happened to pass me she would glare at me and mutter in Italian under her breath.
My part finally came. I went onstage dressed as Serafimo, the Pageboy, disguised as a maid. The play went on around me as I pretended to be cleaning. When my part finally came I stood in front of Carlotta, who glared at me briefly before she began singing.
"'Serafimo, away with this pretense!" Carlotta sang. She ripped away the skirt, a little rougher than was necessary, "'You cannot speak, but kiss me in my husband's absence!"
The whole of my part consisted of pretending to kiss Carlotta, a truly vile thing, in my opinion. I pasted a big grin on my face and enthusiastically pretended to kiss her while she and the chorus continued the song.
Suddenly an eerie voice spoke from somewhere above the stage.
"Did I not instruct that Box Five be left empty?"
The performers gasped and looked around. I looked up, feeling a chill down my spine at the anger I heard in Erik's voice.
"It is him," I said quietly. "I know it, it is him!"
Carlotta's nostrils flared. "Your part is silent, little toad!" she hissed.
"A toad, Madame? Perhaps it is you who are the toad," Erik's voice said eerily from the ceiling.
Carlotta glanced around uneasily. Then she nodded to the maestro, "From the opening," she whispered.
"Serafimo, away with this pretense!" Carlotta tried to rip the dress away, but it was already gone. Flustered, she pantomimed taking the dress off. Her face beneath the stage makeup was turning red. "You cannot speak, but kiss me in my croak!" There was a collective gasp from the performers and the audience as, instead of singing, there was a tremendous croak. There was a stunned silence. Carlotta put a hand to her throat, disconcerted. She took a deep breath just as an eerie laugh echoed throughout the stage. Carlotta looked around fearfully, but pulled herself together and kept singing. I glanced above me. That laugh…it was enough to make a person's hair stand on end!
"Poor fool he makes me laugh," Carlotta sang, her voice wavering. She opened her mouth to continue the song and began croaking again, sounding for all the world like a giant toad. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was open and I had the fleeting thought that she even looked like one before Erik's laugh resonated throughout the entire Opera House. The chandelier began flickering and the audience gasped.
"Behold, she is singing to bring down the chandelier!" Erik cried, his maniacal laugh growing louder and louder as Carlotta burst into tears.
"I cannot go on!" she cried, looking towards the manager's box. Andre and Firmin hurried down to the stage, but Carlotta was already running off stage.
Piangi rushed towards her, "Cara, cara, I am here! Is all right, come with me!"
Andre and Firmin stood in the middle of the stage. I looked around fearfully, expecting to see Erik watching me.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the performance will continue in ten minutes time!" Firmin said with a tight smile. "When the role of the Countess will be sung by Miss Christine Daae," he added, looking up at Box Five. The chandelier returned to normal and Firmin took me firmly by the wrist and led me off stage. I could hear Andre behind us.
"In the meantime, ladies and gentlemen, we shall be showing the ballet from Act Three of tonight's performance. Maestro, the ballet. Now!"
The chorus girls rushed past us. They looked terrified.
"Come, Miss Daae, we must get you changed so you can finish the performance as the Countess," Firmin said, handing me over to Claudia. We rushed to a dressing room and I slid into the Countess' costume. It was too large, so Claudia quickly took it in.
"Be careful, Mademoiselle," Claudia warned as we hurried back to the stage.
"Be careful?" I repeated.
"That you do not tear out the stitches. They may not hold."
I gave a little sigh. Everything seemed ominous.
As we came to stage left there was quite a commotion. We stood to the side and watched the performance. The girls' were obviously uneasy. They were dancing, keeping one eye on the backdrop behind them. There was a sudden flicker of light behind them and a shadow fell across the backdrop. They immediately fell out of step. They huddled together, staring at the shadow moving behind the backdrop. The music stopped and there was a terrific crash as the backdrop fell to the ground. I screamed, as did everyone else, when a body fell to the floor with a loud thud. I recognised it as Josef Buquet, an old stagehand. A noose made of thin rope hung around his neck.
Pandemonium erupted. The audience, unsure as to what was happening, stood, trying to get a better look. The chorus girls ran, screaming, from the stage. Firmin ran onto the stage while Andre directed the stagehands to drop the curtain.
I backed away from the stage, my eyes glued on the body of Josef Buquet. Erik had killed; he had murdered a man in cold blood! I felt as if I had been drenched in ice water. My hands were shaking and I gasped when I realised that the only reason Erik had to have killed this man was me! To further my career. I began to feel ill and tears filled my eyes. It was my fault that Josef Buquet was dead! I thought about how angry Erik had been when I had pulled off his mask. He had looked angry enough to kill, but I had not thought him capable. Obviously I was wrong.
Strong hands suddenly grasped my shoulders from behind and I screamed and whirled around. It was Raoul, looking frantic.
"Oh Raoul!" I cried, sinking into his embrace.
"Christine, come with me," he said, pulling me backstage.
"No, to the roof! We will be safe there," I said urgently, taking his hand. As we hurried towards to roof access door I could hear Monsieur Firmin shouting above the din.
"Ladies and gentlemen, please remain in your seats. It was an accident, merely an accident! Please, remain calm! The performance will continue!"
Monsieur Andre caught my arm. "Miss Daae, we must finish the performance. We cannot afford to anger the Phantom any further!"
"Of course," I agreed. Anything so I could get away.
"Do not go far," Andre added as the police arrived.
We slipped through the door and ran the several flights of stairs that led to the roof. My heart was pounding and I felt like at any moment Erik, the Phantom, would find me and drag me down to his lair.
"Christine, why have you brought us here?" Raoul asked as we burst through the door onto the roof.
I glanced around. Every shadow seemed menacing in the darkness of the roof. "Please, Raoul, do not make me go back there!" I said. I wrapped my arms around myself, shivering.
"But we must return," Raoul protested.
"He will kill me! His eyes will find me, those eyes that burn…."
"Do not say that!"
"He has already killed, he will do it again! I will never escape from him! The Phantom will find me," I cried. I kept seeing the lifeless body of Josef Buquet sprawled on the stage, his blank, staring eyes. And it was my fault, all my fault!
I paced along the rooftop. It was snowing lightly and cold, but I barely felt it.
"There is no Phantom of the Opera, Christine," Raoul said, attempting to put his arms around me.
I pulled away from him. "Raoul, I have been there, to his world of unending night. To his home, in the cold and shadows," I said, backing away from him "I have seen him, Raoul, how can I forget his face? I will never escape from that sight," I whispered. "So distorted and deformed…."
I paused and stared into the distance, hearing his voice in my mind. "But his voice! His voice is that of an angel's. And his music, it is…wondrous. When he sings, it is as if I could feel my soul take flight. It holds me, thrills me….I cannot explain it…."
"Christine, what you heard was a dream. The Phantom is merely a myth, nothing more. He is just a man, Christine…"
But I was not listening. "But his eyes are filled with such sadness, sadness like I have never known. Those haunting eyes that both threaten and adore…"
"Oh, Christine, Christine," Raoul said, stepping forward.
"What was that?" I gasped, glancing around as I heard a whisper of sound from behind us.
"Everything will be all right, Christine. I am here now, I will not let anything harm you," Raoul said soothingly.
I glanced up at him. His dark hair was dotted with snowflakes and his dark eyes stared into mine. I shivered and Raoul slipped off his overcoat. "Here," he said softly, wrapping the coat around my shoulders. I pulled it around me, feeling Raoul's warmth. My eyes filled with tears.
"No more talk of darkness and shadows," Raoul said, placing his hands on my shoulders.
I smiled tremulously at him, "Let us just talk of summertime, Raoul, those summers on the beach when we were young and carefree."
He smiled and gently wiped the tears from my cheeks. "Forget your fears, Christine. I am here for you. I will not leave you."
I looked up at Raoul and felt a strange tightening in my chest. My thoughts were scattered, my emotions whirling. Raoul inched closer to me, putting his arms around me. I froze and tried to block out the thought of a pair of burning blue eyes.
Before I knew what was happening, I was wrapped in Raoul's arms, burying my face in his shoulder. My thoughts were with Erik, remembering his expressive eyes, his entrancing voice, and the tidal wave of emotions that he brought out in me. But being with Raoul meant safety, security. I felt a prickle of guilt, but then remembered Josef Buquet's dead body. Erik had killed a man in cold blood, with no thought, merely to manipulate, to show his power. I shivered and Raoul pulled me closer. His warm, strong arms held me tightly, warming me, calming me.
"All I want is freedom," I whispered, pulling back to look into Raoul's eyes. "I want to be free of the night, Raoul. I want you beside me, to hold me and protect me."
A smile spread across Raoul's handsome face. "Oh, Christine!" he said happily. "Do you mean it? Will you stay with me, share your life with me?"
I smiled back at him, "Yes, Raoul," I said. "I will."
Raoul looked at me and ever so gently reached his hand up to caress my cheek. Then he took my chin in his hand and tilted my face up. He leaned down and his lips met mine. I closed my eyes and tried to ignore my growing sense of regret as we kissed.
"Oh, how I love you, Christine! I have loved you for so long! I thought I had lost you. Let me take you away from here, Christine. Come with me to London and get away from all of this. Please, say you will come."
My heart pounded in my chest. I was terribly confused, but the horror of the death I had just witnessed forced all other thoughts out of my mind. "Yes, Raoul, I will come with you!"
Raoul laughed and pulled me into his arms. He swung me around in a wide circle. "We will leave tonight."
I nodded. My only thought was to get away, before Erik could find me.
"I will order my carriage to be at the back door, with my fastest horses. As soon as the performance is over go directly to the carriage and we will leave."
I nodded. "I must go now. They will wonder where I have been if they are continuing the performance," I said. "Wait for me, Raoul. Wherever you go, I will go with you," I said.
"Christine, I love you!" Raoul said, taking my hand as we hurried to the door.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
From above the stage I watched the Vicomte embrace Christine. He tried to pull her backstage, but she would not go. Then I heard her tell him to go to the roof. Anger boiled inside me. She had turned to the Vicomte. Did not she realise I was doing this for her, that it was all for her?
Seething, I turned and ran to the side door that led to the back of the roof. Quickly I walked up the narrow flight of stairs and quietly opened the door that led to the upper part of the roof.
It was snowing, and a layer of white covered the roof. I made my way stealthily across the roof, until I heard voices. I slid behind the statue of Le Victoire Ailee that adorned the roof. Shadows hid me from view as I peered down at Christine and Raoul.
"He will kill me! His eyes will find me, those eyes that burn!" Christine was saying.
"Do not say that," Raoul protested.
"He has already killed, he will do it again! I will never escape from him! The Phantom will find me," she said. I could see her shaking.
"There is no Phantom of the Opera, Christine." Raoul said and tried to embrace her.
She darted away from him. "Raoul, I have been there, to his world of unending night. To his home, in the cold and shadows." I watched her eyes grow wide with fear as she talked of my face. Fury was boiling up inside me. Then, suddenly her face, her voice changed. I thought I detected a trace of longing as she spoke of my voice, how it held her, thrilled her.
Then Raoul was protesting, and I heard a hint of anger in his voice.
""But his eyes are filled with such sadness, sadness like I have never known. Those haunting eyes that both threaten and adore."
"Oh, Christine," I whispered helplessly. My emotions were in turmoil, going from hurt to anger and back again.
"What was that?" Christine whispered, glancing around fearfully.
I watched with growing horror as they talked and Raoul wrapped his arms around her. "No," I whispered. Tears burned my eyes as Christine spoke of freedom from the night, from me. "No," I repeated. My breathing turned ragged and I felt like a dagger was being driven into my heart. The pain froze deep inside of me as Christine looked up at Raoul adoringly and they kissed. She clung to him as if she was drowning and I felt a pain unlike I had ever felt before. I had been locked in a cage as a child, mocked and ridiculed. I had been taunted and feared, simply because of my face. My cursed face. But nothing had ever hurt this badly, watching the only woman I had ever loved pledge her life to another. Another who would never love her the way I did and would never need her as I needed her. I had devoted my life these past months to her, only to her, guiding her, teaching her and helping her reach her potential, and now this! To be denied, betrayed behind my back.
And then, as they made their plans to leave, a wave of absolute fury washed over me, driving away the pain and hurt. I clenched my fists and knew that in that moment, I could have killed Raoul with my bare hands. They disappeared through the door back into the Opera House. I watched them go, talking of their love and it was as if the hurt and the anger simply exploded.
"You will regret this, Christine!" I roared. "You will curse the day you betrayed the Phantom!"
Blind with anger I dashed across the roof, my mind running in circles. I went through the door and made my way above the stage.
Most of the audience still remained. Andre and Firmin had apparently smoothed things over. I had heard his comment to Christine. He was too afraid not to continue the performance, despite the discovery of Buquet's body. I grinned maliciously. At least someone knew enough to be afraid of me and follow my orders.
Il Muto continued, the performers stumbling over their lines, the dancers hardly able to remember their steps. They were all clearly terrified to be there, but they were even more terrified to not be there. Christine kept glancing around as if expecting another body to drop out of the ceiling.
It was by far the worst performance I had ever seen. Their fear only fed my anger and by the time the performers walked to the front of the stage to take a bow my anger boiled over. With barely a thought of the consequences I began loosening the cable that held the massive gas lit chandelier that hung above the audience. It was an ornate monstrosity, ten feet high and six feet wide, covered in crystals and lit by dozens of gas lights. The thing probably weighed a thousand pounds. The chandelier began to sway and the lights flickered. There was a gasp from the audience and people looked up and began screaming. The performers stood, frozen on the stage, staring up at the swinging chandelier in horror. Christine, standing in front of everyone else, paled. She stared up at the chandelier, transfixed, her mouth slightly opened.
There was a stampede of people as the audience realised something was going wrong. They bolted for the doors, screaming.
Suddenly the chandelier lurched and the lights blinked wildly and went out. I laughed manically. "GO!" I bellowed, my voice reverberating around the theater as the chandelier fell. It crashed into the seats, the glass shattering into a million pieces, flattening the seats beneath it. There was a burst of flames as the gaslights ignited the seats' velvet coverings. Christine, a look of complete terror on her face whirled around and ran for the back door, and Raoul.
I followed her, melting into the shadows as everyone made their way to the front exits. She burst through the door. "Raoul!" she cried.
I slid out the door and hid in the darkness. Raoul stepped out of the black carriage and wrapped his arms around her. "What is it, what happened?" There was screaming and the sounds of police sirens.
"The chandelier! It fell, he made it fall! It-it crashed onto the seats and caught the seats on fire!" she babbled.
Raoul's mouth was open. "The chandelier? Was anyone under it?"
Christine shook her head. "I do not know! I do not think so; they all ran for the exit when it started to swing. Oh, Raoul! He would have killed them all!"
"It is all right now, Christine. I have got you. He will not find you. We will go far away," he said. Raoul kissed her forehead. "Come, let us leave now, while we can."
He helped her into the carriage and climbed in behind her. The door slammed shut and the driver flicked the reins and the horses pulled the carriage away.
I stepped out of the shadows, watching Christine drive away with Raoul. My anger evaporated as quickly as it had come. In its place was an icy feeling of emptiness. The snow was falling harder now and I stood there, alone, in the swirling snow. She was gone. My Christine, my Angel.