Christine's Tutor (A Phantom of the Opera Prequel)

VI (Phantom)

He was content to see that there were less people on the streets after what he had done. It gave him more leeway to roam freely; now he wasn't confined to the shadows of the buildings. He was able to move through the middle of the street, underneath the streetlamps. This he did with an air of confidence and gallantry, and even of superiority.

It was glorious. Absolutely no-one was on the street.

He passed a lamp-post with a paper nailed to it. He reversed his steps and stopped in front of it to read what it said.

The words "WANTED: PHANTOM" were written in large letters across the top. Following it in smaller font were contact addresses and reward details.

"Phantom", he repeated to himself. A rather perfect title, he thought. "The Phantom...of the Opera."

He continued on his way to the Paris Opera House. When he reached it, he crossed the remaining half of the street to his right and climbed the stairs to the large double doors. He was prepared to pick the lock, as it was after-hours for the opera-house, but when he pulled on the brass handle of one door, the door yielded to him. He opened it halfway, and went through.

He was well aware that someone was still in the opera-house. He had a notion as to who it was, although he couldn't know for sure. Thus, he obliged himself to be silent as he maneuvered his way down the stairs to the lower level of the opera-house.

This level was in truth a cellar, although it was august nonetheless and had many rooms on either side of the hall. He heard sounds coming from the door at the very end of it.

He approached it, and paused before it to listen to the sounds. He was able to make out a quiet, suppressed song.

"Think of me,

Think of me fondly

When we've said

Goodbye.

Remember me

Once in a while

Promise me

You'll try..."

Drawn to the voice, he opened the door slowly and carefully, keeping the hinges from screeching.

Yes, his intuition was correct. Christine lied there on the floor, dress splayed out, spreading waves of royal blue in all directions. It caught the light of the fireplace in front of her, as did her brunette curls and hazel eyes. Dull light filtered through the stained glass basement window, transformed into stunning shades of green, yellow, red, and blue, casting a brilliant angel onto the floor.

He immersed himself within the room and shut the door, making no sound. He watched her, looked over her soft features, admired her. She didn't seem to notice his presence; she went on singing, as if there was no-one behind her. Her defense was down, he could tell, for before, when he had been following her on the streets and her defense was up, she had kept looking over her shoulder and behaved nervously.

There came a point when she stopped. That was when he slipped out of the room, leaving her to herself.

~

He stepped out from the gondola and onto his enclave. He climbed the stairs to the plateau, and immediately went to a dark wooden bookshelf.

He sought out something in particular as he sifted through the books and scores. Eventually, he found what he was looking for.

He pulled out from his bookshelf the score titled "Hannibal". He flipped through the pages until he came upon the song "Think of Me". He then left the bookshelf for his desk, and spread out two sheets of staff paper onto its top.

He sat down, and began to copy onto them "Think of Me". As soon as he had finished with that, he endeavored to sing the part himself.

His voice drifted through his lair, unfolding before everything like a soft shadow. His voice was angelic and light, not as heavy as it usually was, but just as poignant and strong. As he sang, no noises came from the cave, as if it was withholding all sound; the water droplets dripping from the cave's roof halted their downward fall, and the frogs in the water stopped croaking. Everything was captivated by him.

~