Other Fan Fiction ❯ Masked Phantasm ❯ Masked Phantasm ( One-Shot )

A/N:

This is my first and probably only attempt at a Phantom fanfic. It's just a little one-shot; so please be kind I've never done this before. Character descriptions based on ALW 2004 movie.

 

Disclaimer:

You know whom they belong to: Leroux, Kay, and Webber. Music belongs to Andrew Lloyd Webber.

 

Masked Phantasm

By Whistling Nightingale

© 2006

 

 

I am your Angel…

Come to me: Angel of Music…

 

Christine de Chagny slowly slipped out of the cool crisp sheets of her bed, careful not to rouse the sleeping figure beside her as his voice called to her. His soft and melodious voice enthralling her completely, drawing her toward his hidden figure. Casting a quick remorseful glance backward at Raoul, she pulled on a long black cloak to cover her lace chemise before cautiously exiting the room. Her dainty feet softly padding across the hard wooden floor as she walked down the long flight of steps within the de Changy chateau.

 

I am you Angel of Music…

Come to me: Angel of Music…

 

His strong, enchanting baritone voice filling her ears and soul. Her brown orbs glazed over with an unseen passion and longing as she spotted his form resting beneath a tree through the large picture window near the stairs. Breathing heavily with an insatiable hunger for music, she pulled the large wooden door leading to the outside of her prison open. With one massive intake of air she readied her voice for her beloved teacher and stepped out into the snowy winterland.

 

In sleep he sang to me

In dreams he came…

That voice which calls to me

And speaks my name…

 

The cold wind whipped all around her petite form, forever tangling her unruly mass of chocolate curls as she neared him. The moonlight shown bright as her eyes rolled over his strong dominating figure cloaked with night. One side of his visage hidden behind an alluring mask of pure white, with glowing sea-green eyes that watched her every movement. His slicked back ebony hair shined in the night-light, framing his unearthly countenance.

 

And do I dream again?

For now I find

The Phantom of the Opera is there,

Inside my mind…

 

Christine watched with joy and happiness as his lips curled into a smile at the sound of her sweet angelic voice. Holding out a single thornless crimson rose tied with a simple black ribbon gripped in his leather-gloved hand, he beckoned her to him.

 

Sing once again with me

Our strange duet…

My power over you

Grows stronger yet…

 

With each powerful verse she found herself unconsciously gliding towards him, only taking a fleeting glance back to the mansion before resting her orbs on her Phantom, her Angel…

 

And though you turn from me

To glance behind

The Phantom of the Opera is there,

Inside your mind…

 

“Erik…” She breathed as she stood before him, their cloaks billowing out behind as they faced each other.

 

“My Angel…My Christine…Mine Forever…” He replied holding out the simple rose.

 

Gently taking it from his extended arm, she brought the rose to the tip of her nose to breathe in its heavenly fragrance. Her full red lips curved into a sweet smile and her chocolate eyes glowed and sparkled with unexplained emotions as she ran into his open arms. Tears slowly leaked out as she buried herself within his strong embrace. How long had it been, one year or six months? God how she missed the sweet embrace of her beloved Angel. Something that no matter how much Raoul tried, he could never replace.

 

“Shush…do not cry, my angel.” Erik cooed as he held Christine tightly within his arms. “Sleep my love. All shall be right in the morning.”

 

At his command, Christine's eyes slowly closed as wave of sleepiness washed over her. “Sing to me.” She whimpered in a child-like voice.

 

With no hesitation to her request, his soft and sensual voice filled the night air carrying her body, mind and soul into the world of dreams.

 

Nighttime sharpens,

Heightens each sensation…

Darkness stirs and

Wakes imagination…

 

Silently the senses

Abandon their defenses…

Slowly, gently

Night unfurls its splendour…

 

XOXOX

 

Raoul gently rolled over in his sleep, only to feel nothing but an empty spot beside him. Frantically shooting his eyes open, his body filled with panic to find Christine missing. In a fury to find her, he rose swiftly from the bed forgetting his underdressed state in a nightshirt and trousers as he ran out of their bedroom. Quickly sifting his eyes over every room, only to find no sign of her, invoked a sick feeling within his stomach. Where could she have gone? What happened to her?

 

Oh Monsieur Daae if only you were still here…

 

Slowly walking past the large glass window Raoul's blue orbs widened in horror as he spotted her frail, petite form lying beneath a pine tree out in the cold, dusted with snow. Wildly he ran out the wooden door shouting her name in panic. “Christine! My God, Christine!”

 

XOXOX

 

Christine's eyes fluttered open as she heard Raoul's voice grow louder and louder. She moaned in anger for being ripped from her peaceful slumber within her Angel's arms.

 

“Curse that insolent boy! Waking my beloved from much needed sleep!” Erik roared as he stood up and pulled Christine to his infuriated form. “I'm not sure I even know why I let you give your hand in marriage to him. You are needed at the Opera House, not here.”

 

She had no time to reply as Raoul's figure came at her in an ungodly speed. “My God Christine! What are you doing out here in the freezing cold?” He berated her and grasped her small hand in his. “Come inside at once before you fall deathly ill.”

 

Christine looked over quickly to Erik as she was pulled from his arms. His eyes darkened and gleamed with hatred and anger, “You will not take her Monsieur…” His gloved hand tightening around the lasso he now pulled from his cloak.

 

“No Erik…Please! Don't kill him! I'll come back with you to the Opera Populaire, just do not harm him!” She cried, breaking free from Raoul's hold and throwing her arms around Erik. “Don't…”

 

XOXOX

 

Raoul's eyes once again widened. What was the matter with Christine? He found her lying beneath a pine tree outside their home and she was raving about some man named Erik. He watched as she pulled herself from him, running and throwing her arms around thin air.

 

“No Erik…Please! Don't kill him! I'll come back with you to the Opera Populaire, just do not harm him!” Her distressed voice cried out. “Don't…”

 

What on earth had she conjured up? Was this just a desperate attempt to receive more attention from him? Had he neglected her in some way he had no idea about? Why would she dream up man who she was begging not to kill him? Millions of questions flooded his mind as he saw his beloved Little Lotte, his wife, crying and holding on to something that was not there. Had the recent death of her father truly made her go mad? He needed to send for Doctor Francois right away.

 

Softly he crept up to her sobbing forming and picked her up within his arms, ignoring her pleading cries for an Angel, for this Erik… He carried her into the mansion, then up the long flight of stairs to their bedroom where he laid he down upon the bed. He quickly took out a piece of parchment and scribbled almost incoherent words in ink and folded the message.

 

“Monsieur, is everything alright?” A timid voice called from the door.

 

Turning swiftly Raoul's ice blue eyes landed on the skittish young maid. “Justine, this is urgent. Fetch me a basin of warm water and a towel, and send Rupert up here as quickly as you can.”

 

With a startled yelp at the tone of her master's voice Justine hurriedly ran down the stairs to fetch all that he ordered of her.

 

Without a moment's hesitation, Rupert appeared before the door, his face covered with worry. “My lord, why is it that you have called me at such time in the night?”

 

Casting another worried glance at Christine's livid form, Raoul held out the message for him to deliver. “Go quickly and fetch Doctor Francois, I'm afraid Christine has fallen ill.”

 

Rupert's face blanched at the Count's words. If she had indeed fallen ill why would he not send for Doctor Reyer instead? He deals with the physical ailments of failed health. “But, my lord Doctor Francois heads the asylu-”

 

“I know what I said Rupert!” Raoul snapped. “Apparently Madame Christine has fallen mentally ill, go and bring Francois here so I may either confirm or deny my suspicions. Go now and take the fastest horse, do not fail me.”

 

With a quick nod he took the letter from his hand and rushed out of the room. Running like the devil was on his heels. Justine then entered bearing the basin and towel. “Is there anything else you and Madame Christine need, my lord?”

 

“Prayer Justine.” He replied dipping the towel into the warm fluid and dabbing Christine's angelic pale face. “Prayer…”

 

XOXOX

 

Raoul twitched his hands, as the minutes and hours passed, his care for Christine had not waned as he continued to watch over her restless form. She moaned, tossed and turned mumbling names and places he had never even heard about.

 

“Madame Giry….Meg…The Opera Populaire….Erik, my Angel…”

 

“Oh God, my dear Little Lotte have you truly become insane?” Raoul cried in frustration and in an all-consuming anxiety, running his fingers through his long golden brown hair.

 

“My Lord, Doctor Francois.” Rupert called as he and the doctor appeared at the door.

 

“Very good, leave Rupert.” Raoul replied. “Doctor I fear that Christine has fallen mentally ill. She has been raving all night about people and places I have never heard before in my life, nor she.”

 

“Hmm…” Francois began to contemplate his words. “I must observe her to find out in further detail what truly ails the dear Countess de Chagny.”

 

As if on cue to their voices, Christine arose from her restless slumber and slowly walked towards them. Her brown eyes widened in recognition at Roaul but clouded with confusion at the tall man standing next to him. Wispy mahogany locks framed the rough contours of his face and his scrutinizing brown eyes watched her with a growing suspicion.

 

“Christine…” A soft feminine voice filled her ears and she whipped her head around to see a blonde figure come through the door.

 

Smiling happily at the familiar face and forgetting about the strange one, she ran and embraced her long time friend. “Oh Meg, I am so happy to see you. Soon I will leave and come back to the Opera Populaire to sing again.”

 

“Oh Christine, I'm so happy. We really miss you there, especially le Fantome. Maman has already begun preparations for your arrival. Needless to say Carlotta is extremely unhappy at being ousted, as you have been donned Prima Donna.” Meg giggled. “With Erik at your aide once again.”

 

“Oh you can't be serious Meg. Me, named the Prima Donna of the Opera Populaire, surely you jest.” Christine laughed. “I wish I was there to see Carlotta's face when she was told the news.”

 

“Come Christine, we must go. Erik is waiting outside with a carriage.” Meg replied and grasped her hand, pulling her toward the door.

 

XOXOX

 

Doctor Francois and Raoul looked on in concern, their suspicions confirmed as the sweet loving Countess carried on a conversation with nothing but air. To their horror she began to leave the room as she replied to the voices that haunted her. “Yes, let's go.”

 

In a panicked haste Francois called out to his two helpers standing at the door. “It is worse than I feared. Jacques, Victor…seize the Countess and carry her to my carriage.”

 

“Surely there must be something other than force to be done, doctor. Isn't there?” Raoul cried, tears falling from his deep ocean blue orbs as the two burly men grabbed hold of his beloved Lotte.

 

“I'm afraid she must be detained, I have a feeling I know what is wrong with her.”

 

He watched in despair as his love was held firmly by the large men, screaming out in terror and fright as they carried her away. “No! Let me go! What is the meaning of this? Unhand me! Raoul, stop them…stop them…”

 

He sank to the floor as he tried to muffle Christine's screams, as much as he wanted to obey her wishes, he could not. He had seen first hand how truly mad she had become; she really did need to be sent to the asylum.

 

“I'm really very sorry about this Count, but her condition is worse than I thought.” Francois stated remorsefully. “She must be taken, before more harm can come to her and even you.”

 

“I understand.” Raoul said quietly. “I shall arrive in the morning, give Christine my love.”

 

“I will… I will.”

 

XOXOX

 

Christine cried out in agony as they brought her into a pure white room, held within this strange brick building. “Why am I here? Why have you brought me here?”

 

Doctor Francois gave her a saddened look as he answered her question. “ Countess, you are…you're not well. You have been seeing…talking to people who are not there.”

 

“What on earth are you talking about? I'm not crazy! Erik, Meg help me!” She yelled, flailing her arms as Jacques and Victor tried to grab her.

 

“My dear Christine. Madame Giry, Carlotta, Meg, the Opera Populaire, and your Angel Erik…Do not exist. They never have, they are just something you mind conjured up in a frenzy for God knows what.” Raoul spat out as he appeared in the doorway. How could she have imagined or come up with another life with no thought of him? Did she even care for anything after Gustave departed?

 

“No!” She sobbed falling to the floor. “Stop these lies! They are real…Meg, Madame Giry…they truly exist! I have not gone mad Raoul. Erik, my Angel, my…teacher…he exists! He has to, he just has to be real.”

 

“Count! It is highly unorthodox to burst in here and inform her of her mental state so abruptly. Do you not know what more damage you might have done to her already fragile mind?” Francois scolded him.

 

“Forgive me, I did not mean for a such a reaction.” Raoul apologized, then turned to face Christine. Her long chocolate curls forever tangled in one giant mass, brown eyes blood-shot from her sobs. Kneeling beside her gently, he brushed back a stray curl from her face. “Oh my precious Little Lotte…forgive my harshness, but I am worried sick over you.”

 

“Do not say that ever again about Monsieur Erik, Madame Giry, or Meg. They exist…” She trailed off, avoiding his piercing blue eyes. “Do not lie…Do not lie. ”

 

Doctor Francois stepped in before Raoul could become enraged with Christine's denial of reality verse madness and cause her mind more harm. “Quickly, we must sedate her.”

 

With impeccable speed Jacques seized her and held her tight as Doctor Francois pulled out a syringe filled with clear liquid and injected it in her right arm. And with an exhausted breath they released her and she slipped down the wall to the cool floor in sleep induced from the drugs effects.

 

“I'm afraid Count you must come with me, to discuss the state of your wife.”

 

XOXOX

 

Raoul stared in shock at Christine, Francois's words replaying in his mind over and over again. How could something like this happen to his dear sweet Little Lotte? How could life be so cruel? Someone so young and innocent as her did not deserve such torment and heartache. God he felt so helpless, he could do nothing for his wife. This was the result of her father's death.

 

“Raoul…” She began groggily, recovering from her drug induced sleep. “I'm so confused…Is something wrong?”

 

“Christine, I'm afraid you'll have to stay here for a while…” He began.

 

“Why? I don't understand. Where are you going? Why are you leaving me here?”

 

Turning his blue eyes on her, he sighed. “I have business to attend to. I am leaving shortly, but you must stay.”

 

“Oh. Will you come back then?” Christine asked in a childish voice, still wondering why he was leaving her in this strange room, but hopefully he should return soon.

 

He turned away briskly at her sudden question. “I…I don't know…Maybe when you are close to being cured…I will come then.”

 

His many insecurities began to flood his mind. What would the people of France think about as one of their most favored nobles had a mental wife? What would his family think? Could they take such information as this, mere months after Philippe's death? He would pay for her care here, but his heart could not stand to see her in such a state.

 

XOXOX

 

Raoul's words snapped Christine into a swift recovery from the drug as her body began to quake with fury. How could her own husband accuse her of being mentally ill? How dare he say such things about her health! First the doctor tried to convince her of her ill being, now Raoul. She could not take anymore of these fallacies, these false accusations that burned her very soul.

 

“What do you mean cured? I'm perfectly fine. How dare you say such things! I am not mentally unbalanced! Get out!” She sobbed and sank to the floor of her pure white room. “Get out…”

 

“Christine…I…” Raoul began to plead.

 

“Leave…get out…” She continued to cry until the sound of the door closing behind her met her ears.

 

“Oh Erik…my Angel…” Her broken voice then sounded. “Come to me, save me from this sudden solitude.”

 

“I am here my love, I shall never leave. Never Christine, never.” His voice floated to her ears and a small smile curved onto her face as she felt his arms encase her in his everlasting embrace.

 

XOXOX

 

Raoul stared ruefully at his beloved Little Lotte, crying out to her fabled Phantom, before turning to leave and let the door swing shut behind him. Maybe he would come back one day; that is, if his heart could take it. His eyes glanced once more at his final memory of his lost Christine, to the ink stained parchment above the door's handle:

 

Countess Christine de Chagny

 

Schizophrenic