Angel of Music

The Phantom of the Opera Is There

    Disclaimer: I, will all my broke soul, wished I owned POTO. But, Alass, I do not.

This chapter is dedicated to Izabella, the girl who believes in my voice.

  Christine's hand grips mine tightly.
Her gaze is fixed upon me with awe and wonder.
  She believes she is holding the hand of her angel.
  The further we plunge down, Christine's eyebrows nit together.
  "Who are you?" She whispers, terror slipping into her voice.
I grip her hand tighter, almost crushing her small fingers. I will not loose her now, not when I am so close.
  "You are the Phantom!" She cries. "You are the ghost!"
  My head whips around to face her. I brace my self for the look of horror plastered on her face.
  But there is not a drop of fear in her brown eyes.
  Only excitement.
  "Yes," I say, confused. "I am the Phantom."
  Christine's lips curl up into a smile.
  "My angel of music is the phantom of the opera..." She giggles.
  This is not what I expected at all, I thought she would be horrified to learn who I was.
My horse, Caesar, is waiting for us at the bottom of the winding stairs.
I grab Christine's waist and place her on Caesar, her white night dress drooping over his side.
Her small hand reaches out to touch my unmasked sided face. Her touch sends thrills down my spine.
"You are handsomer than I thought you'd be," Christine's pale cheeks blush pink. "And you are a ghost." Her hand drops and I turn to grab Caesars's bridle.
I guide the horse through the labyrinth of stone walls, Christine silent but looking around in amazment.
We reach the small lake beneath the opera house. Christine gasps, she did not know how vast the opera house was.
I help her down, and she grips my cloak. She doesn't let go when her feet touch the stone floor, and her eyes are filled with wonder as she stares at me.
I pry her hands from my cloak gently, and help her into my boat.
"We are almost there," I tell her. Christine smiles, excited.
  I stand behind her as I row, my eyes occasionally wandering to her.
  We make it to my home, the luminescent candles lighting Christine's beautiful figure.
   "Sing...."I whisper, stepping closer to her.
  Christine knits her brow.
  "What?" she asks, voice above a whisper.
  "Sing for me...my angel of music," I am standing so close now I am whispering against her head, but not touching her.
  "But why--" she begins, but I raise my hand, and with it comes a flood of perfect melodies.
  Christine's brown eyes are now filled with fear. I hungrily force notes from her throat, I need to hear them.
  I need to hear her sing....sing for me, and no one else.
  I feel a possessive grasp take ahold of me, and I know now that I must have Christine's music. She must always stay here with me....she will live down here, I know it.
   I step way, still conducting her voice. Etched on her face shows obvious horror. I lock her gaze with mine, hoping to show her that every thing is all right.
  I raise my hand a little higher, and Christine sings a higher note---a note only on a good day she can reach.
  I make her sing it over and over...my eyes telling her I am proud. And I am, my heart swells in my chest.
  She is singing for me.
  Christine's eyes betray shock, then excitement. She searches my eyes for something more than just pride.
  What is it?
   Just when Christine has gotten comfortable with my training, I raise my hand higher.
  Christine's voice rings out an unearthly sound, a beautiful, whole, perfect note.
  She has never sung that note before, she could never sing that high.
  But the note rose and soared up an through my home, caressing every inch of my wretched body
  I close my eyes and drown in her voice...that beautiful instrument I cannot live without.
   Her note slowly fades away, and I have only a memory.
  I open my eyes and Christine staring at me with pride, searching for my approval.
   My lips curl into a smile, and I cry out in joy.
   "Christine!" I say, rushing back to her.
   "Angel I---" she stops abruptly. "You are not my angel...you are a ghost."
   "I am your angel," I tell her. "But not the one you wished." Christine bows her head. "I am sorry, Christine."
   I reach my gloved hand out to her, hoping she will take it.
  She looks up at me, and does.
"I brought you here because ever since I first heard your heavenly voice I have needed it. I compose music....and the only voice my music will play for is yours," I tell her, and Christine's eyes search mine for something, I don't know what.
   "Will you..." She asks timidly. "Sing for me?"
  She wants to see if I truly am her angel. I take a deep breath in, and sing for her.
  "Night time, sharpens. Heightens each sensation. Darkness stirs, and wakes imagination. Silently the senses abandon their defenses..."
  My voice floats gently through my home. Christine smiles and her eyes grow bright.
  "...helpless to resist the notes I write. For I compose the music of the night."
  I lead Christine through my path of candles, my voice echoing.
  "Close your eyes, for your eyes will only tell the truth, and the truth isn't what you want to see....in the dark it is easy to pretend.....that the truth is what it ought to be."
  The truth in my words are lost to Christine, for with every note she wants more.
  "Softly, deftly, music shall caress you. Hear it, feel it, secretly posses you. Hearing is believing...music is deceiving...hard as lighting, soft as candle light."
  My free hand reaches underneath Christine chin, cupping it tenderly.
  "Close your eyes and start a journey through a strange new world. Leave all thoughts of the life you knew before...."
  I hopes she learns that I mean every word of this song. I hope she knows this melody with haunt her if she does not obey.
   "Close your eyes....." I sing, and Christine does. "And let music set you free!"
  I let go of Christine's hand, and use both to cup her face.
  "Only then, can you belong to me."
   I turn Christine around and press her back against me. I hear her gasp.
  "Floating falling, sweet intoxication."
  I slowly trail a finger down her curves, singing into her ear.
  "Touch me..."
Christine does, reaching up behind her and caressing my unmasked half of the face.
  "...Trust me...savor each sensation! Let the dream begin..."
  I pull away and take her hand so she is facing me again. I continue to lead her through my candle lit home.
  "Let your darker side give in....to the power of the music that I write....the power of the music of the night!"
  Christine smiles and she stares at me with a look I don't recognize....
  Suddenly her smile wavers, and she presses a hand against her forehead. Unsure of what to do, I take a step closer.
  Christine's eyes become unfocused, and she sways.
  Her locks her gaze with mine only a moment before she faints.
  I catch her, and pick her up. I hold her close to me, breathing in the sweet smell of her hair.
  I bring her over to my bed and tenderly place her in between the sheets.
   "You alone can make my song take flight...." I whisper. "Help me make the music of the...night...."

                 ____________________

  I did not hear her wake up, but I do hear her voice.
  I am sitting at my organ, adding a few last notes to my greatest creation, when I hear.
   "I remember...."
  I turn and see Christine standing a few paces away from me.
   "Who was that shape in the shadow...." She licks her lips and steps towards me.
   "Who's is the face in the mask?" She asks gently, and touches my face will the tips of her fingers. Her touch turns to a caress, and a caress turns to--
   Christine rips off my mask.
  A hand flies to my disfigured face, hiding it. I stand abruptly, too quick in fact, that it nocks Christine over.
  How could she...
  Her eyes are filled will horror as my eyes pierce her.
  "How could you?" I ask in a deathly whisper. I suck in a ragged breath.
  "How could you?!" I scream, and I hear Christine whimper.
  I grab a candelabra, and in blind anger, throw it across the lake.
  It hisses, and I turn away from Christine. I begin waking towards my wall of mirrors.
  Uncovering my face, I stare back my hideous reflection. I gingerly reach out and touch the cool glass.
  "Stranger than you dreamt it?" I ask bitterly.  I cover my face and walk towards her.
  "All I've ever wanted was beauty, Christine. I've yearned for the world in the light....but there is no place for me there. No, I must stay in the dark..."
  She must hate me now, she must think I am a monster.
  "Look for the man behind the monster, Christine. I swear to you, he is there. Please, look."
  I fall to my knees in despair.
  "I am nothing but a--" something touches my arm. I look up and see Christine watching me.
  Looking at me with pity.
  Pity.
  Her outstretched hand holds my mask, and like a coward I take it. Turning I away from her to put it on.
   Once it is on, I breathe a sigh of relief. I rise to my feet, holding my hand out for Christine to take.
  "Come," I tell her. "We must return. Those two fools who run my theater, will be missing you."