Katelyn Quaranta

Period 4

September 12th, 2005

A Ghost of so Many Years Ago

DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters of Erik, Christine, Raoul or Philippe de Changy. They are properly of G. Leroux and Andrew Lloyd Webber.

Summary: (set after the Final Lair) After leaving with Raoul, Christine wonders if she can truly live without her Angel of Music. Based on the ALW musical. I was inspired by Gary Mauer and Beth Southard's performances as Christine and the Phantom.

Chapter One: It's over now...

"GO!" Erik screamed, "go now don't let then find you! Take the boat, swear to me, never to tell, the secret you know, of the angel, in HELL!" he could see his angel, his Christine embrace that wretched boy, "GO! NOW!" they were embracing. Erik didn't know how long he could watch before he went back on his word and killed the Vicomte, "go now and leave me..." The voices of the approaching mob echoed and bounced chaotically around the walls. Erik didn't watch his beloved leave. He couldn't. He knew Raoul was dragging her away, away from her Angel. He stormed away from the lake, hardly able to contain his fury. "Damn her" he muttered, picking up a small hand mirror and shattering it. The resulting crash was oddly satisfying. Erik continued around the room in this manner. "Damn her!" he screamed again, to the empty room, "damn her..."one of the intricate figurines he had made caught his eye, "and damn that bloody Vicomte as well!" he crumpled to the ground, tears springing to his eyes, "why?" he asked, his angelic voice a hushed whisper, "why!" Erik's head collapsed into his hands, inwardly hating himself as he felt the marred side of his face.

A soft, melodic slowly intertwined itself with his silent tears. Lifting his head, Erik's golden eyes searched for the source of the tune. It barely took a second to recognize it. His music box, the one thing he couldn't bring himself to shatter into a million pieces. A Persian monkey sat perched atop a miniature barrel organ. His cymbaled hands clapping merrily in time with the song. Despite himself, he felt his face pull into a weak smile. Erik remembered when he had made that monkey, back when he was an apprentice to a mason in Rome. He had stayed up many late nights, attempting to complete it, making prototypes of every piece to ensure that it would play the way he wanted. Of course, it hadn't helped when the mason's daughter, Luciana had destroyed most of them. He winced, recalling her death. See? He thought, have you not already learned your lesson? You're a monster, a freak! Did you really expect her to stay? No. He stopped himself. He could not allow himself to think of her. Not now. That was his past, a past he would rather forget.

The monkey's merry tune played on, intruding on his thoughts, Erik found himself softly singing along, "masquerade, paper faces on parade..." he saw Christine in his minds eye, whirling around the grande foyer, her face beaming, "masquerade...hide your face...so the world...will never...find...you..." he stopped as the song softly faded away. A faint rustle of fabric, almost inaudible, startled him into turning around. A part of him had wished it would be the mob. What he saw instead was Christine, her copper curls tangled, and her eyes wet with unleashed tears. To Erik's eye, she was the most beautiful he had ever seen her. "Christine" he choked out, "Christine, I love...you"

She remained silent, not trusting herself to speak. She silently slipped the wedding band Erik had given her from her finger. She could see his eyes look down. Christine grasped his hand and lay the ring in his open palm. He could only stare at it, not knowing what to do. As she slipped her hand from his, Erik's fingers became intertwined with hers, "stay" he whispered, pleaded. Christine's eyes brimmed with tears, tearing her hand from his she fled the room, knowing that if she stayed any longer, she would never be able to leave. Erik watched her go, "I love you!" he cried, taking a few hating steps and crumpling to his knees, "I love you...". Her voice floated back to him, and Erik struggled to his feet and gazed after her retreating figure.

"Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime"

"Say the word and I will follow you..."

Even as Raoul answered, Erik knew she was singing to him, even as she was pulled from him, Christine sang for her Angel. Erik watched until the gondola turned a corner and was lost from sight.

"You alone can make my song take flight..." he felt a lone tear role down his cheek, "it's over now! The music of the night!" he ran from the lake, grabbing his cloak as he passed it. He could hear the mob clearly now, their voices only adding to the chaos he felt. Settling himself in his 'throne' he draped the cloak over himself, and grinned. Time for one last trick.

Young Meg Giry gripped her torch with clammy hands. She had truly not expected to come this far, let alone stumble across the Ghost's lair. Holding the torch out in front of her, she ventured through, room by room. In the flickering light, she thought she saw a figure, hunched over in a very ornate chair, one could even go as far as to call it a throne. She gestured fervently for Jammes to hold the light. Meg anxiously approached the figure, only to discover that it was in fact a cloak, draped over the front. Meg grasped te hood of the cloak, and with a flourish, whipped it off of the throne. A gasp escaped her lips. The throne was empty, but laying on the seat, in sharp contrast to the black velvet, was a white, porcelain mask. She gingerly picked it up with a shaking hand. Jammes looked at the mask in Giry's hand,

"Is that...?"

Meg nodded, the rest of the mob came running to where the two girls were standing, but stopped when Meg turned to face them.

"He's gone."

A/N: hey! I hope you liked it! I took the 'stay' line from Gary Mauer's performance in Boston when he broke, or rather, got too into character. le sigh

updates comming soon! Oh and lemme know what ya think, plot wise. Hate it, love it. Think I should never write again:P