Phantom of the Opera: The Untold Story

[EmilyAnnCoons 7]

So, I am taking the Phantom of the Opera movie and telling a new story. I've always wondered "What would it be like if Meg and Christine ended up together?" Well, this is the story I came up with. Hope you enjoy it ^^

 

Chapter 1: Hannibal

 

Paris, 1870. It was a wonderful year. The Opera Populaire was gaining more customers by the day, and the owner, a Mr. Leferve, was eager. Today was a special day for the Opera Populaire. Not only were they performing Chalumeau's “Hannibal” but something else very special was occurring today as well.

 

Lefevre was a tall man, in his fifties at least. He had short gray hair, along with a gray moustache as well. He wore a full, black and white tuxedo as his outfit. Being that he was the owner of such a fine establishment as the Opera Populaire, the proper attire was important. He stood at the stairs of the Opera Populaire, waiting as a carriage pulled up to the steps. He walked down and a worker opened the carriage.

 

From the carriage walked two men. One a tall man with black hair and a red and white tuxedo. He wore a gray coat, and carried in his hand a white top hat and a wooden cane. He placed the cane in his right hand, and placed the top hat on his head. “Welcome to the Opera Populaire,” Lefevre spoke to the man and shook his hand.

 

“Thank you,” the man spoke as he walked forward, looking up at the majestic building in front of him. From the carriage came yet another man. This one wasn’t as tall, and looked somewhat older. That may have been due to his white hair, however. He wore a gray and white tuxedo.

 

“Welcome to the Opera Populaire,” Lefevre spoke to the other man.

 

“Thank you, Monsieur Lefevre,” the man with the white hair spoke. The three of them walked up the stairs and into the opera house.

 

“Now, then, let me give you the grand tour of your new building,” Lefevre spoke. He then walked forward as the two men followed behind him. As he showed them the opera house, the workers inside we getting ready. They were preparing for the dress rehearsal they would have just before the performance. Lefevre continued the tour as the dress rehearsal began.

 

In the center of the stage was a tall woman. She wore a rather tight, forming fitting outfit that looked much like a rather expensive, Carthaginian dress. It was trimmed with gold lace, and a small crown of sorts was on her head. In her head was a fake head that was made specifically for this opera. This was Carlotta Giudicelli, the leading soprano. She held the fake head in her head as she sang.

 

“The trophy from our saviors, from our saviors from the enslaving force of Rome!” The music picked up and she tossed the fake head off stage. A group of chorus girls came up from behind Carlotta, all wearing similar outfits.

 

“With feasting and dancing and song,” they began to sing, “tonight in celebration. We greet the victorious throng, returned to bring salvation!”

 

Just outside the building, another carriage pulled up. This driven by a single man, standing on the carriage, instead of sitting. He stopped it at the doors and hopped down. He was a tall man, about as tall as the other two men who had shown up. The man wore a brown, leather coat on top of a black suit. He had shoulder-length brown hair as well. “Vicomte, welcome!” the man with the white top hat spoke, though he had now taken off his top hat and coat. The two men and Lefevre had gone to meet this new arrival.

 

“Monsieur Firmin,” the Vicomte spoke, shaking hands with the man. He then looked to the white haired man. “Monsieur Andre, good to see you both.” He shook hands with the white haired man.

 

“So, now, shall we go speak to the crew?” Lefevre asked.

 

“Yes, now would be a good time,” Firmin spoke. The four then all headed off inside the building. “Now, then, we will go in, and Monsieur Lefevre will make his announcement and introduce us. We will then introduce you, and that is when you can enter.”

 

“Sounds like a plan to me,” the Vicomte spoke, pulling off his leather gloves.

 

Inside the opera house, the rehearsal was still going. The men had just finished their small chorus. “Hear the drums, Hannibal comes!” The whole chorus sang in unison as another man entered on stage. He wore a suit of armor that had a lion head on the breast plate and a set of red plumes that stuck out of the helmet in a semi-circle around him. The man also wore a fake, long, red beard. As he entered, he rose his hands to sing.

 

“Sad to return to find the land we love threatened once more by Roma’s far reaching grasp!” the man sung.

 

There was a tapping noise, the silenced the orchestra. It was the Monsieur Reyer, the conductor. “Gentlemen, gentlemen, please, it’s Rome not Roma!”

 

It was then that Monsieur Lefevre, followed by Firmin and Andre. “As you can see, rehearsals are underway for a new production of Chalumeau's ‘Hannibal’.”

 

“Monsieur Lefevre, I am rehearsing!” Reyer spoke.

 

“Monsieur Reyer, Madam Giry, ladies and gentlemen…umm…please…if I could have your attention…” Monsieur Lefevre paused as he spoke. The choreographer, Madam Giry, was a rather tall woman as well. She dressed in a simple green dress, though simple, it was still fancy. Her hair was braided along the edges and pushed back into a single braid that then went down her back. In her hand was a black cane. She was currently leaned over talking to someone, but at the mention of her name, she stood up straight.

 

“As you know, for some weeks there have been rumors of my imminent retirement,” Monsieur Lefevre continued. “I can now tell you these are all true, and it is my pleasure to introduce you to the two gentlemen that now own the Opera Populaire. Monsieur Richard Firmin,” he waved to Firmin, “and Monsieur Gilles Andre,” he then waved to Andre. The crew present on stage all clapped. “I’m sure you have read of their recent fortune amassed in the junk business.”

 

“Scrap metal, actually,” Andre spoke, both firmly, as if angry, and correctingly.

 

“And we are deeply honored to introduce our new patron,” Firmin spoke, “the Vicomte de Chagny!” At that moment, the Vicomte stepped out and onto the stage. “I still can’t believe we managed to get him, it’s such a coup for us, Andre.”

 

At those words, two specific chorus girls popped out from the crowd. One had long blonde hair, while the other had short, curly, brown hair. They both wore a brown, two-piece outfit. The top covered their breasts, but left their stomachs completely exposed, and the bottom was a fancy brown skirt. The blonde girl had a sad look on her face.

 

“It’s Raoul,” the brown haired girl spoke, referring to the Vicomte.

 

“What’s wrong?” the blonde girl asked.

 

“Before my father died, at the house by the sea…” the brown haired girl spoke, and the blonde looked at her. “I guess you could say we were childhood sweethearts. He called me Little Lotte.” The blonde looked back at the Vicomte.

 

“Christine, he’s so handsome,” the blonde spoke, looking back at the brown haired girl. “I’m no match for him.”

 

“But you’re beautiful, Meg,” the brown haired girl spoke.

 

“My parents and I are honored to support all the arts,” the Vicomte spoke, especially the world-renowned Opera Populaire.”

 

Carlotta stepped forward, a smile on her face. “Gentlemen,” Monsieur Lefevre spoke, “Signora Carlotta Giudicelli, our leading soprano for five seasons.” Carlotta extended her hand towards the Vicomte, who took it into his hand and kissed it lightly. Everyone clapped. “Also, Signor Ubaldo Piangi,” Lefevre spoke, turning towards the man who was wearing the armor and had been singing a solo only a moment ago. Everyone clapped as Piangi stepped forward and gave a bow. Carlotta turned and walked away from the group.

 

“An honor, Signor,” the Vicomte spoke. “I believe I am keeping you from your rehearsal. I shall be here this evening to share your great triumph, my apologies.” With that, Raoul turned and walked off.

 

“Thank you, Monsieur Vicomte,” Monsieur Reyer spoke. “Once more if you please, signor,” he spoke, turning to Piangi.

 

“He love me, he love me,” Carlotta bragged as she walked off to the side of the stage.

 

“Thank you, indeed, for the wonderful words. So inspiring and encouraging…” Firmin began as he, Andre, and the Vicomte all walked off. They walked right past Christine and Meg.

 

Christine looked down. “He wouldn’t recognize me,” she spoke, looking to Meg.

 

“He didn’t see you,” Meg responded.

 

“If you please,” Madam Giry spoke, looking to the new owners. “Monsieur, I must ask you to step to one side.” As she spoke, the music started up once more, and the ballet dancers rushed out, Meg and Christine included. They danced amazingly as Firmin, Andre, and Madam Giry all watched. “We take particular pride in the excellence of our ballet, Monsieur.”

 

“I see why,” Andre spoke. “Especially that little blonde angel,” he spoke, referring to Meg.

 

“My daughter, Meg Giry,” Madam Giry responded rather quickly.

 

“And that exceptional beauty, no relation I trust,” Firmin spoke, now referring to Christine.

 

“Christine Daae, promising talent, Monsieur Firmin, very promising.”

 

“Daae did you say? No relation to the famous Swedish violinist is there?” Firmin asked.

 

“His only child,” Madam Giry spoke, “orphaned at seven when she came to live with us in the ballet dormitories.”

 

“An orphan you say?” Andre spoke.

 

“I think of her as a daughter also,” Madam Giry spoke quickly once more. “Gentlemen, if I may ask you to stand to one side.”

 

The music had now picked up, and the singers were singing once more.

 

“Hannibal’s friends!” With that line, a fake elephant appeared on stage. It was enormous in size, looking as tall as a real elephant, though obviously fake. It ran on wheels to push it across the stage. Piangi walked to the elephant and began to try to climb on top of it. “The trumpeting elephant sound. Hear, Romans, now and tremble! Hark to their step on the ground. Here the drums, Hannibal comes!” With the end of their song, they all struck a pose. Piangi had lost his helmet trying to climb on top of the elephant, and thus decided to just stand next to it. Carlotta had a rather upset look on her face now.

 

“All day! All they want is the dancing!” Carlotta shouted. The workers on the stage turned the elephant around, revealing its backside was completely missing. Inside were a couple of workers who had gone on their break, and were promptly eating inside of the massive elephant.

 

“Well, the Vicomte is very excited about tonight’s gala,” Lefevre spoke to Carlotta.

 

Carlotta walked over to them, a frustrated look on her face. “I hope that he is as excited by dancing girls are your new managers,” she pointed to both Firmin and Andre. “Because I will not be singing!” She turned around, waved her hand towards everyone to show her anger, then proceeded to stomp off speaking in French. Piangi just smiled and waved.

 

“She’ll be back,” Piangi spoke.

 

Meg put her hands on her hips and shook her head. “She does this all the time,” she spoke to Christine.

 

“Bring my doggy and my boxy!” Carlotta suddenly shouted out.

 

“What do we do?” Andre asked Lefevre who was standing next to him.

 

“Grovel,” Lefevre spoke. “Grovel, grovel.” Lefevre waved towards Carlotta.

 

Firmin and Andre immediately ran off towards Carlotta. “I am going now, it is finished,” Carlotta spoke.

 

“Signora, world-renowned artist and great beauty,” Firmin spoke. Carlotta, hearing Firmin, turned to look at him.

 

“Principessa Bella Diva!” Andre spoke.

 

“Si! Si! Si!” Carlotta spoke, waving her hand fiercely.

 

“Goddess of song!” Firmin added in.

 

Carlotta went to speak when Andre interjected. “Monsieur Reyer, isn’t there a rather marvelous aria for Elissa in Act 3 of ‘Hannibal’? Perhaps the Signora-” Before he could finish, Carlotta interrupted.

 

“Yes, yes, but, no! Because, I no have my costume for act 3 because,” she turned to look at someone, now shouting at them, “somebody not finish it!” She then turned back to Andre and Firmin. “And, I hate my hat!”

 

“But, I wonder, Signora, as a personal favor,” Firmin quickly interjected, “would you oblige us with a private rendition?” Carlotta began to cry fakely. “Unless, of course, Monsieur Reyer objects,” he spoke, turning to Reyer, now placing the blame of what happens next on his shoulders.

 

Carlotta quickly stopped crying and waved her hands, showing she appeared happy. “If my manager’s command.” She then gave a glare to Reyer. “Monsieur Reyer?”

 

“If my diva commands,” Monsieur Reyer spoke.

 

“Yes, I do!” She spoke, walking forward. “Everybody, very quiet!” Carlotta spoke out to the whole stage, walking back to the center.

 

Monsieur Reyer quickly headed over to Lefevre. “Monsieur why exactly are you retiring?”

 

“My health,” Lefevre spoke in reply. Monsieur Reyer nodded in agreement, then quickly headed to his post.

 

“You as well!” Carlotta spoke, pointing to someone who had continued to talk after she had told them to be quiet. One of the stage hands walked over to Carlotta, carrying a box. Inside was a small perfume bottle of sorts, with a red liquid inside. She took it and sprayed it in her mouth, then put the bottle back in the box.

 

“Signora,” Reyer spoke, to ask if she was ready.

 

“Maestro,” Carlotta responded, telling him she was ready. Reyer began waving his baton again, and the music started up once more. Firmin and Andre both walked to Carlotta’s right to watch and listen. Firmin pulled out his pocket watch and looked at it. This was normal for him to do when he was bored and just didn’t want to pay attention.

 

“Think of me. Think of me fondly as we’ve said good-bye,” Carlotta sang. “Remember me, once in a while, please promise me you’ll try. When you find that once again you long to take your heart back and be free.” Her singing was cut off as a piece of scenery suddenly began to fall from the ceiling. Meg looked up and screamed as it fell on top of Carlotta. It didn’t hurt her much, which was lucky for her.

 

“Oh my God, Signora!” Reyer shouted, the music quickly stopping.

 

“I hate you!” Carlotta shouted. “Get it off!” The stage hands quickly rushed to get the fallen scenery off of her.

 

“He’s here, the Phantom of the Opera,” Meg spoke to Christine. “This is bad.”

 

“Buquet, for God’s sake, man, what’s going on up there?” Lefevre shouted up at the rafters. Buquet’s face now came into view. He was a man in his mid thirties. He had brown hair, that ended around his neck. He also had a beard and moustache. He looked rather rough, and sounded it too.

 

“Please, monsieur, don’t look at me. As God’s my judge I wasn’t at my post!” Buquet looked around. “Please, Monsieur, there’s no one there, and if there is, well, then, it must be a ghost.” Buquet then began to pull on one of the gears to pull the scenery back up.

 

Those on the stage all helped Carlotta stand to her feet. “Signora, these things do happen,” Andre spoke.

 

Carlotta looked at Andre and Firmin, almost with a look that seemed to say “You two know nothing!” She got mad and spoke out at Lefevre first. “For the past three years it’s been ‘These things do happen’, and did you stop them from happening? No!” She then turned to Andre and Firmin. “You two, you are as bad as him,” she spoke, referring to Lefevre. “‘These things do happen.’” She gave a groan of frustration. “Until you stop these things from happening, this thing does not happen!” She shouted out. She turned, waved her hand. “Ubaldo! Andiamo! Bring my doggy and my boxy!” she shouted as she stormed off.

 

“Amateurs,” Piangi spoke, walking off with Carlotta.

 

“Now you see, bye-bye, I’m really leaving!” Carlotta shouted. Meanwhile, while this was going on, Madam Giry had been off stage, picking up a small envelope that seemed to have slipped from the rafters and landed in front of her.

 

“Gentlemen, good luck, if you need me, I shall be in Australia,” Lefevre spoke to Andre and Firmin, before walking off himself. This made Reyer very nervous, and he put a tissue to his mouth. This also made the rest of the crew nervous as well.

 

“What are we going to do if Carlotta is leaving?” Meg asked.

 

“

 

I”

 

“I don’t know, Meg,” Christine spoke.

 

“Signora Giudicelli, she will be coming back, won’t she?” Andre asked Reyer. Reyer just threw his shoulders up, showing he had no idea, then went back to moaning.

 

“You think so, Monsieur?” Madam Giry asked, a smile on her face. In her hands was the letter she had found. “I have a message, sir, from the Opera Ghost,” she spoke, holding up the sealed letter. It was in a white envelope with black trimming. A red, wax skull was on the back as the seal.

 

“Oh God in heaven, you’re all obsessed!” Firmin spoke.

 

Madam Giry opened the letter and read it. “He welcomes you to his opera house.”

 

“His opera house?” Firimin asked, putting an emphasis on “his.” Reyer began to walk over to listen to what the note said.

 

“And commands that you continue to leave box five,” Madam Giry spoke, pointing her cane at one of the balcony seats, “empty for his use. And also reminds you that his salary is due.” Madam Giry then handed the note to Andre.

 

“His salary?” Firmin shouted.

 

“Monsieur Lefevre used to give him twenty thousand francs a month.”

 

“Twenty thousand francs?” Firmin shouted once more, snatching the note from Andre’s hands.

 

“Perhaps with the Vicomte as your patron you can afford more.”

 

“Madam, I had hoped to make that announcement public tonight,” Firmin spoke, looking to the crowd that had now gathered around him to hear the note, “but it seems we shall now have to cancel,” Firmin began ripping up the note, “as it seems we have lost our star!”

 

“Surely there must be a…umm…” Andre struggled with the word.

 

“Understudy,” Piangi, who had stayed behind, spoke quickly.

 

“Understudy!” Andre spoke back quickly.

 

“Understudy? There is no understudy for La Carlotta!” Reyer spoke.

 

“A full house, Andre, we shall have to refund a full house!” Firmin spoke, turning back to Andre.

 

“Christine Daae can sing it, sir,” Madam Giry spoke up suddenly. This immediately broke the conversation Meg and Christine had been having during everyone else’s conversation. Christine turned to look at Madam Giry.

 

“What, a chorus girl, don’t be silly,” Andre spoke.

 

“She has been taking lessons from a great teacher.”

 

“Who?”

 

Everyone seemed to look at Christine. “I don’t know his name, Monsieur,” Christine spoke, rather nervous now.

 

Madam Giry walked over to Christine. “Let her sing for you, Monsieur,” she spoke. “She has been well taught.”

 

Andre sighed. “All right, all right.” He sighed as Christine began to walk up towards the front of the stage. “Come on now, don’t be shy.” Christine stood in the center of the stage now. “That’s it…just…”

 

“From the beginning of the aria, then, please, Mademoiselle,” Monsieur Reyer spoke.

 

“Andre, this is doing nothing for my nerves,” Firmin spoke.

 

“Well, she’s very pretty,” Andre spoke, trying to re-assure Firmin. However, he had his doubts as well.

 

“Think of me,” Christine began to sing. “Think of me fondly when we say good-bye. Remember me, once in a while please promise me you’ll try.” The crew was now walking towards her, all staring in amazement. They had never heard such an amazing voice before. Meg watched while standing next to her mother. She smiled, almost as if in love with Christine’s voice. Christine turned to look at Meg and Madam Giry, and Meg smiled. Madam Giry waved for her to walk forward and take the front of the stage. “When you find, that once again you long, to take your heart back and be free,” she sang, then turned and walked forward. “If you ever find a moment, stop and think of me.”

 

Firmin and Andre were so amazed, that they immediately grabbed her and nearly begged her to perform in Carlotta’s place. Christine gave a giggle, but then agreed as she looked up at Meg. Meg smiled even more, a look on her face showed she was madly in love with Christine and her voice. It was only a few hours later, and Christine had changed outfits, and was now performing the last part of Hannibal.

 

Christine was now dressed in a white dress, almost like a wedding dress. In her hair were silver stars that went down her hair. Her hair was now longer, since she didn’t have it up anymore. Meg had changed into a white dress. It looked absolutely stunning on her, and Christine had told her so many times.

 

Christine stared out at the audience, who was all dressed royally. There was princes, princesses, duchesses, and all other forms of royalty visible. Those who were not of royalty simply wore tuxedos and fancy dresses. Christine smiled as she stared out at the audience. The stage behind her now had a background of a beautiful river, and live sheep and other animals could be seen on the edges of the stage.

 

“We never said, our love was evergreen,” Christine sang, “or as unchanging as the sea. But if you can still remember, stop and think of me. Think of all the things we’ve shared and seen. Don’t think about the way things might have been.” Madam Giry was offstage, standing next to Meg. She smiled and closed her eyes, then lightly brushed her hand against Meg’s hair.

 

“She’s very beautiful,” Meg spoke.

 

“I know,” Madam Giry spoke. “Everything will work out one day.”

 

“I know. I just hope it’s soon.”

 

Christine continued to sing. “Think of me, think of me waking, silent and resigned. Imagine me, trying too hard to put you from my mind.” Madam Giry now turned and walked off. Meg turned to look at her mother for but a moment, before turning to the beautiful woman in front of her that was singing. “Recall those days, think back on all those times, think of the things we’ll never do. There will never be a day when I won’t think of you.” She paused as the music continued to play. It was a short instrumental solo. Everyone clapped at this point.

 

“Wait a minute it…is it…is that…Christine?” Raoul asked. He stood to his feet to get a better look. He was sitting in Box Four, just beneath Andre and Firmin. “Bravo!” he shouted. He quickly turned. “It is!” He quickly turned and began down the stairs. He wanted to be at the stage when she came off of it. “So long ago…it really was long ago, wasn’t it? We were young, and so innocent. I wonder if she remembers me at all.”

 

“Flowers fade,” Christine continued to sing. “The fruits of summer fade, they have their seasons, so do we, but please promise me that sometimes, you will think of me!” The last few notes of the song were drawn out as she then finished. Everyone stood to their feet and clapped their hands. She gave a bow, and the rest of the cast ran onto the stage and gave their bows.

 

“You were wonderful, Christine,” Meg spoke.

 

“Really?” Christine asked.

 

“Yes, you were.”

 

“Bravo!” the whole crowd shouted.

 

“Brava! Magnifica! Stupenda!” Andre shouted. Firmin shook his head, showing he was somewhat embarrassed by Andre’s reaction. It took a while, but finally the crowd died down, and everyone headed off the stage. At that, everyone began to disperse. Once the audience was gone, the cast and crew headed off towards the gala.

 

Raoul had decided against meeting Christine as she came off stage, and instead had decided to bring her flowers and meet with her at the gala. Unfortunately, most of the flower shops were closed at this time, and so he was forced to return to the gala without flowers.

 

Once the gala had begun, Christine walked away from it, heading downstairs and deep into the lower sections of the opera house. There she found a stained glass window, along with several unlit candles. She hung a picture of her father on one of the candles, then lit it. She closed her eyes as she began to pray.

 

“Christine?” Meg asked as she looked around. She was still up where the gala was taking place. “Christine, where are you?” she asked, then turned, noticing the door Christine had gone through to get into the lower sections of the opera house was open. She walked through the door and downstairs. She soon made her way down and found Christine praying at the candles. “There you are, Christine,” she spoke.

 

Christine turned, seeing Meg. She smiled. “Hello, Meg,” she spoke.

 

“That was amazing, Christine. You were so perfect today.” She knelt down next to her. “I wish I knew your secret. You have to tell me who your new tutor is.”

 

Christine looked at her, then looked away for a moment. “Meg, do you believe in angles?” she asked. Meg nodded. “When your mother brought me here to live, when I came down here to light a candle for my father, I would hear a voice from above singing to me. And he was always there in my sleep, too. You see, when my father lay dying, he told me ‘I will send an angel to guard you. It will be an angel of music.’”

 

“Do you believe, then, that the spirit of your father is coaching you?” Meg asked.

 

“Who else could it be, Meg?”

 

“It could be the Phantom…” Meg sighed. “And if it is, he might take you away from me…”

 

“Don’t worry, Meg. Nothing will come between our love.”

 

“Promise?” Meg asked.

 

“I promise,” Christine spoke, and the two kissed each other. Meg then stood to her feet, then helped Christine to her feet. “Father used to speak about the angel of music. I used to always dream he’d appear. Now in my dreams I can sense him, and I know he’s here.” She looked around.

 

“Christine, what you speak of happens in fairy tales and dreams, not reality. It’s almost like you speak of ghosts. I’m honestly a little worried.”

 

“Don’t worry, Meg, I’m okay,” Christine spoke.

 

“But your face, it’s white…it’s almost like you’ve seen a ghost…” Meg sighed.

 

“I’m okay…” Christine spoke, not truly sure if she was. Meg nodded and they walked off. Buquet had been watching from the rafters. He laughed some.

 

“Those two won’t be able to hide their love forever,” Buquet spoke to himself. “They’ll have to tell someone sometime.”

[Maxxis221 0]

haha , more ideas and inspirations for my game!

Excellent story :D

[EmilyAnnCoons 7]

Sorry for the long wait. Here is chapter 2 of Phantom of the Opera: The Untold Story.

 

Chapter 2: The Phantom of the Opera

 

Christine and Meg made their way back to the gala. As soon as they arrived, everyone jumped on Christine. They pushed her with questions, and Madam Giry quickly jumped in and pushed them away. She took Christine to the changing room, and shut the door behind her. “No!” she shouted at someone, before shutting the door. She then turned to Christine. “You did very well, my dear,” she spoke.

 

Madam Giry walked over to a stand and picked a rose off of it. It had a green ribbon on it as well. She handed it to Christine and smiled. “He is pleased with you.” She then turned and walked out of the dressing room. Christine stared at the rose for a moment, sighing.

 

“Why all of this?” Christine asked herself. “Suddenly so many people like me all because of my voice…I never wanted this…” She set the rose down and then sat down in her chair across the room. The entire room was filled with flowers. Normally flowers made her happy, but this was just too much.

 

Meanwhile, just outside her room, the Vicomte had made an appearance. He was heading towards the dressing room. “Ah, Vicomte!” Firmin spoke.

 

“Vicomte!” Andre spoke. Andre had caught Raoul’s attention. Raoul turned to look at them. “I do believe we made quite the discover with Miss Daae. Perhaps we can present her to you, dear Vicomte.”

 

“Gentlemen, if you wouldn’t mind,” Raoul spoke. “This is one visit I would like to make unaccompanied.” Raoul stared at the set of flowers that were in Andre’s hands. He snatched them from Andre’s hand with a “Thank you”, then turned and walked off towards Christine’s room. He opened the door and entered.

 

“Little Lotte let her mind wander,” Raoul spoke as he entered. “Little Lotte thought, am I fonder of dolls, or of goblins, or shoes?” He walked towards her. Christine looked up and smiled. “Or of riddles or frocks…or of chocolates?”

 

“Those picnics in the attic,” Christine spoke. “Father playing the violin.”

 

“As we read to each other dark stories of the North.” Raoul set the flowers down and kneeled down to Christine’s level, as she was still sitting in her chair.

 

“No, what I love best, Lotte said, is when I am asleep in my bed, and the angel of music sings songs in my head.”

 

“The angel of music sings songs in your head?” Raoul smiled. “You sang like an angel tonight.” Raoul and Christine embraced in a hug.

 

As they broke from the hug, Christine began to talk again. “Father said: ‘When I am in Heaven, child, I will send to you the Angel of Music.’ Well, Father is dead, Raoul, and I have been visited by the Angel of Music.”

 

“Oh no doubt,” Raoul spoke as he stood up. “And now, we go to supper.”

 

“No, Raoul, the Angel of Music is very strict,” Christine responded.

 

“Well, I shan’t keep you up late.”

 

“No, Raoul,” Christine tried to speak.

 

Raoul gave a laugh. “You must change. Two minutes, Little Lotte.” Raoul turned and walked out.

 

“No, Raoul! Raoul, wait!” Christine spoke louder, and the door shut behind Raoul. She sighed, sitting back down. After a moment, she stood back up to her feet and headed behind the small curtain made for her to change behind. She changed into a white dress, then sighed as she stepped out. There was a gust of wind, seemingly from nowhere, and it blew out all the candles around her. She looked up, a worried look on her face.

 

“Insolent boy, this slave of fashion, basking in your glory!” a deep, male voice boomed out. “Ignorant fool, this brave young suitor, sharing in my triumph!”

 

Christine had tried to make for the door as he spoke, but she sighed, looking down. “Angel of Music, I hear you. Please speak to me and I will listen. Stay by my side and guide me. Angel, my soul was weak, please forgive me. Enter here at last, Master.”

 

“Flattering child, you have served me well. It is time for you to know who I am, and see why I hide in shadow. Look at your face in the mirror, and you will see me there, inside!”

 

Christine turned to the mirror, and much to her surprise she saw a man standing in the mirror. He was dressed in a black tuxedo, his hair slicked back nicely. A mask covered the right side of his face, and gloves covered his hands. Her eyes focused on him, and she began to walk forward, as if under his control. The man in the mirror gave a smirk and extended his hand. “I am your Angel of Music. Come to your Angel of Music.”

 

It was then that Raoul came to the door. He put his ear to the door as he heard the man’s voice. “Whose is that voice? Who is that in there?” he shouted.

 

“I am your Angel of Music, come to your Angel of Music,” the man continued to chant. Christine extended her hand out, and their hands touched. The man pulled her close. “Stay with me, and I will show you great wonders. I am the Angel of Music, the Phantom of the Opera!”

 

The Phantom then turned and pulled Christine gently. They seemed to walk through the mirror and made their way through a long hallway. The hallway was lit by several torches; all that seemed to be held onto by odd, hand-shaped hangers. The Phantom lead her through them, and down the hallway. At the end of the hallway was a set of stairs, which they began to slowly walk down.

 

Christine’s eyes focused on the taller man next to her as they walked down the stairway. The stairway soon lead to a flat piece of marble which held a horse on it. The Phantom grabbed Christine and set her on the horse. “No need for you to walk all the way,” the Phantom spoke, “please rest your legs.”

 

Christine gave a nod and the Phantom turned, grabbing the bridle of the horse. He pulled the horse along beside him, glancing back at Christine on occasion. He’s amazingly handsome, Christine thought. I never would have imagined it, really. I should have guessed he would be, though. Oh, but what are these thoughts in my head?

 

The Phantom now began to sing. His voice…it is definitely the voice I remember…but how can all of this be? That voice…I’ve always heard it in my mind during the night. Now he sings in front of me, and I found it so amazing. He is my Angel of Music.

 

A few minutes passed, and they finally came to a stop. The Phantom walked to Christine and pulled her down off the horse. He smiled and turned, holding his hand out to point to the boat nearby. An underground lake was now in front of them, and there was a boat sitting at the edge. The Phantom walked Christine to the boat and sat her down in it, then carefully stepped into it himself.

 

He positioned himself at the end and pulled out a long oar. He pushed the oar against the ground beneath the lake, and it pushed off. He continued pushing on the ground below with his oar, moving the boat further along the lake. Christine just watched in wonderment. She hadn’t met such a wonderful man before.

 

As the boat sailed, they came to a large gate. The Phantom rose his hand, and the gate seemed to open, as if by magic. The boat continued to sail forward, and the lake turned into a large room. An organ sat in the center of the room, on the edge of where the water ended and the land began once more. Mirrors were all over the room, though covered by some kind of curtain or other. Candles lit the entire room as well.

 

“Welcome, Christine,” the Phantom spoke as he set the boat against the side of the land. He stepped out, tossing his cloak to the floor so his three-piece suit was now showing better. “This is the seat of sweet music’s throne. All who come here must pay homage to music.”

 

The Phantom reached out his hand and gently helped Christine out of the boat. “I have brought you for a single purpose,” he continued. “Ever since I heard you sing for the very first time, I knew I needed you. I brought you here to serve by singing for my music.”

 

“You want me to sing for you?” Christine asked.

 

“Exactly,” the Phantom spoke. “I want you to sing like you’ve never sung before!” An odd grin appeared on his face as he pulled her close. “I write the Music of the Night.”

 

“The Music of the Night?”

 

“Yes, can you not hear it?”

 

“No, I cannot, monsieur.”

 

“Then close your eyes. Ignore your surroundings, and listen only to my voice.” Christine did as she was told. “Turn away from the garish light of day. Light is cold, unfeeling. Ignore it, listen only to the night. Surrender yourself to your darkest dreams. Purge your thoughts of all the life that you once knew. Listen, carefully, and you will hear it.”

 

The Phantom’s hand rose up and touched Christine’s face. Slowly his hand slid down the side of her body, and Christine seemed to slip into a complete trance, now only noticing the words from the Phantom’s lips. “I hear it,” she spoke. A smile crossed her face. “I hear it! It’s wonderful!”

 

“Now open up your mind, and let your fantasies come to life! In this darkness which you know you cannot fight, the Music of the Night shall gently caress you. Listen to it, let it possess your very being, and become a part of it.” Christine did not realize what was going on, but soon, she had slipped under the Phantom’s complete and total control. “You are the only one who can make my songs take flight, Christine. Help me make the Music of the Night.”

 

“I will,” Christine spoke and gently began to sing.

 

“Let me show you something,” the Phantom spoke and walked Christine over to a small curtain. “Behold!” he spoke, and pulled the curtain down, revealing a life-like mannequin of Christine. It was wearing a beautiful, pearl-white, wedding dress. Christine’s eyes went wide when she saw this, and she fainted, falling back into the Phantom’s arms.

 

Carefully, the Phantom lifted Christine into his arms and carried her forward. He pushed through a couple of curtains, until he finally reached a large bed. He gently set Christine down upon the bed, then turned and stepped away. He stopped after a moment, and gently closed a curtain around the bed, then slipped off.

 

Meanwhile, back in Christine’s room, Meg had become curious. Christine had been missing now for an hour, and was determined to find out why. “Christine?” she asked as she walked up to the door and knocked. “Christine, are you in there?” She took hold of the handle to the door, and gently turned it, opening it carefully. The room was still full of flowers, but Christine was nowhere in sight.

 

“Christine?” Meg called out, but heard no response. She walked through the room, examining everything she could to see if Christine had perhaps just fainted from all the work, and not yet awoken. Soon, though, her search led her to the mirror in which Christine had vanished into. As she reached it, she noticed it was pushed a little to the side, and an opening was visible in the back.

 

“Christine?” Meg called into the opening, but received no answer. She pushed the mirror a little, giving her room to step in. She then quickly turned around, noticing the mirror was actually a piece of one-way glass. Someone could easily see into her room, but she wouldn’t be able to see them.

 

Meg then turned, noticing the path before her was dark. There wasn’t a single light in the hallway before her, and it appeared it hadn’t been used in a while. Cobwebs hung on the ceilings and walls, and there were even small pools of water on the ground. Meg continued in, however, determined to discover what had happened to her lover.

 

She did not walk long, however, for no sooner had Meg entered the hallway, then did a rather large rat jump out in front of her. She gave a scream and jumped back a little, watching it run off. Then, a hand reached out for her and grabbed her by the mouth. She went to scream, but she couldn’t, and the hand quickly turned her around, revealing to be attached to none-other-than her own mother.

 

“What are you doing here?” Madam Giry spoke.

 

“Looking for Christine,” Meg spoke. Her heart was beating heavily as she was slowly relaxing now.

 

“Don’t worry about her,” Madam Giry spoke. “She’s fine.” Giry took hold of Meg’s arm and gently began to pull on her. “Come, we must go back to the dormitories.”

 

“Yes, Mother,” Meg spoke, a fairly saddened sound to her voice. The two walked slowly back to the dormitories, where Buquet stood around a small group of women.

 

“His skin is like yellow parchment,” Buquet spoke, describing someone. “There is a big black hole where his nose never grew.” He pulled out a small length of rope, which he had fashioned into a lasso. “You must always be on your guard, or he will catch you with his magical lasso!” He quickly wrapped the lasso around one of the women and pulled her close, giving a snarling sound to her.

 

“Buquet!” a female voice shouted loudly, scaring Buquet. He whipped around, starring Madam Giry in the face. She quickly undid the lasso around the girl next to him. “Those who speak of what they know, soon find that prudent silence is wise.” Madam Giry then turned to Buquet, pushing herself into his face. “Joseph Buquet, you hold your tongue!” She slapped him hard across the face, then tossed the lasso around his neck. “Always keep your hands at the level of your eyes!” She pulled on the knot in the lasso, which tightened it right around his neck, nearly tight enough to strangle him.

 

“Yes, ma’am,” Buquet spoke quickly, and Madam Giry pulled the lasso loose. Buquet then quickly pulled the lasso off his neck, and Madam Giry turned, walking off. Buquet followed quickly behind. “So, Christine is really with-” Buquet began once they were out of hearing range.

 

“Yes,” Madam Giry interrupted quickly, then sighed. “He is obsessed with her, and I would rather not be one of his ‘accidents’.”

 

“I see, well, it probably is best to leave her there, then. What about Meg, though? What if he doesn’t bring Christine back?”

 

“He will,” Madam Giry spoke. “He needs her to sing. He will do whatever it takes to make her happy with him.”

 

“He really wants her then?”

 

“Of course, he chose her. And why wouldn’t he? She is beautiful, a great singer, and he could live very well off of her for the rest of his life.”

 

“I know…to think, though…Christine is in the hands of that…Phantom…”

 

“But it is for the best. If Christine and Meg truly wish to be together, this will be one obstacle they will have to overcome.”

 

“How very true.”

 

Meanwhile, back under the Opera House. The Phantom of the Opera gently played upon his organ, composing music. Christine’s eyes slowly opened, and she slowly sat up from her bed. “Where am I?” she asked. The trance she had been in was now broken. “I remember mist…over a glossy lake…” she stood up from her bed and began to walk forward. “There were candles all around,” she continued. “On the lake…a boat…” she spoke as she had now come out far enough to see the lake. Her eyes noticing the boat once again. She turned, now seeing the Phantom playing on his organ. “And on that boat, there was a man…”

 

Christine walked forward, slowly, desiring to discover who he was. “Who was that man? Was it this man?” she asked herself. She now noticed the mask on his face. “It was, but who is the man behind the mask?” she asked herself. She now walked forward a little faster, and walked up behind him. She gently began to caress him, and the Phantom closed his eyes, smiling. She then carefully, but quickly, pulled the mask from his face.

 

The instant she did, the Phantom’s eyes shot open wide, and he quickly knocked her back. “Damn you!” he shouted, turning to her. She could now see his face. It was mangled, and ruined. It looked as if his skin had been melted in several spots, causing seemingly loose, almost clay-like skin. A piece of his nose was missing, and even his hair was scattered over his head, the black wig he wore to cover his nearly bald head, now falling to the ground.

 

“You little demon! You Pandora! You couldn’t resist could you? You were curious!” The Phantom shouted, then pushed himself close to her, his face now close to hers. “You little viper, is this what you wanted to see?” He quickly pushed her away and stood to his feet. “Damn you! Now I can’t ever let you go free!” he shouted as he stormed off to the dock, stopping at the edge.

 

“Stranger then you could have dreamt it, isn’t it? Can you even bear to look at or even think about what you’ve now seen? I’m nothing but a loathsome gargoyle who burns in hell, but secretly yearns for heaven.” He turned to look at her, now covering his face. “But, fear can always turn to love. You can learn to be able to see and find the person behind the monster with this face. I’m just a repulsive carcass that seems a beast, but secretly yearns for beauty.”

 

The Phantom walked up next to her and knelt down. “Christine, please,” he spoke. Christine reached over to the mask that she had dropped and handed it to him. The Phantom took it with his free hand and smiled, standing to his feet. He quickly turned his back to her and placed the mask back upon his face, grabbing the wig and pulling it on as well. “Come, we must return,” he spoke as he turned back to her. “Those two fools who run my theatre will be missing you.”

 

With that, Christine and the Phantom quickly hopped upon the boat once more, pushing off, and returning to where they had come from. Madam Giry had been waiting in the dressing room for a while now, and gave the Phantom a glare as he returned Christine. “Are you alright, my dear?” Madam Giry asked.

 

“I’m fine,” Christine spoke.

 

“You should rest,” Madam Giry spoke, taking hold of Christine. The Phantom quickly turned, heading behind the mirror, and shutting it behind him. Christine opened the door to her dressing room, coming face-to-face with Meg on the other side.

 

“Christine, you’re okay!” she shouted.

 

Christine smiled and hugged Meg gently. “Yeah, I’m okay, Meg,” she spoke. “I’m okay.”