A Phantom Christmas Carol - *Phantom of the Opera*

Chapter Five

A/N: Again, the video clip is a bit different than written story. It begins at end of last chapter, carries through this one, and ends before it does (next video chapter will begin with end of this written one). Pretty soon this will catch up though. :) -Clips from: Phantom of the Opera (2004), Wuthering Heights (2009), and The Secret Garden. Music from: soundtrack for Outlander (the movie) and soundtrack for Pan's Labyrinth (intro from Phantasia)

Poor Young Maiden

V

"Take me anywhere but here!" The Phantom cast a scornful eye at the painted wagons and canvas tents that materialized in the stretch of forest where he now stood. "I cannot possibly discover anything of merit in this wretched place."

"You might be surprised what the shadows conceal," the Spirit countered, motioning to a slight gypsy girl skulking along the fringe of wood. She wore a shift too large for her thin frame. The hem of her multicolored skirt trailed the ground at the back as she clutched the front and tiptoed on bare feet past a dying campfire where a burly man slept, his back against a tree.

"I have lived a lifetime in shadows," Erik insisted. "I assure you, there is nothing of consequence to be found there."

"Be still, and listen."

He clamped his jaw, knowing it would serve no purpose to refuse. If he attempted to escape this vision, it would only haunt him until he surrendered to it.

"Arabella!" A boy of roughly six whispered, catching the Phantom's attention.

The girl whirled around, a bundle clutched in one hand. As the firelight flickered across her face, the Phantom noticed she was not much older than the boy.

"Josef, go back to the wagon before Papa knows you're gone and you get us both in trouble."

"If Papa knew you were going inside his tent, you'd get the beating, not me."

"What makes you think I'm going inside?"

"'Cause I've seen you do it before. Papa said anyone who goes in will be cursed, 'cause the beast has the evil eye."

"Hush!" She clapped her hand over the boy's mouth, looking beyond him, afraid to be overheard. "You don't see horrible things happen to the outsiders that go in to see, do you? If you tell anyone, I'll say you went in first, and you'll get a beating too. Do you understand?" The boy nodded, and she dropped her hand away from his face and gave him a push. "Run back to the wagon. Hurry, before someone sees you!"

Once a scowling Josef scampered off, Arabella picked her way over the sleeping gypsy camp to a tent on the opposite side. The Spirit motioned for the Phantom to follow. The stink of sweat and earth and manure mixed with the lingering, sickly sweet smell of incense made him want to retch. The moon cast a bright glow over a banner, and he distinguished bold letters announcing The Devil's Child resided within. He tensed as the flap parted beneath it and a thin, wiry man exited, his sleeves rolled up past his elbows, a stick gripped in one large hand. The man breathed with difficulty, as though having just exerted himself in a grueling task.

The Phantom dug his nails into his palms, reminding himself that the ogre remained a ghost of the past and retribution would serve no purpose. On the heels of that thought, he remembered he had found vengeance in his jailer's death, though at the time he acted only with a child's fear and rage.

The man stood outside the tent and wiped an arm across his shining brow and his matted beard. The gypsy girl, Arabella, shrank back into the bushes at the sight of him, waiting until he'd walked to the other side of the camp before resuming her stealthy trek. She kept to the shadows but halted suddenly, inclining her head as a child's sobs drifted from within the canvas structure.