Mask of Red Death (A Phantom of the Opera Phan Fic)

I Love You Too ~ Chapter 13

Erik sat heartbroken in box five. Was everyone's goal in life to ruin his chances of love? Tears streamed down his cheeks as he thought of all the people he had dedicated time and care for, and then when his back was turned they stabbed him and ran off.

A torrent of curse words pilled out of his mouth as he punched the chair. He stood up and leaned slightly over the balcony rail and shouted. "YOU FOP! YOU WILL CURSE THE DAY YOU DID NOT DO, ALL THAT THE PHANTOM ASKED OF YOU!"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

That night, Angeline went home with Peter. She had realized the Phantom had tricked her. But it was her fault none the less. Peter had been hospitable enough to allow her to stay with him and his grandfather.

She lay on a cot Peter had dragged up from the basement. Twisting and turning, nothing seemed comfortable for Angeline. Her mind ran in a thousand directions.The Phantom had tricked her, but he hadn't meant to...right? He loved her with all his heart, and she knew that. For a split second of time, real or fake, Angeline loved him too.

Slowly sleep fell over her and she began to dream.

*Angeline stood in the midst of the empty run down opera house. The chandelier was on the ground, and the chairs were dust covered. Everything was dirty and run down.

Angeline stood alone on stage, but she heard a voice. Something soft and warm.

"I am your Angel of Music...come to your Angel of Music." It beckoned at her.

Angeline's feet moved forward onto the stage, her eyes caught two figures at the back of the theater. Two men perhaps. Yes, two men, one taller and more muscular while the other was weaker and more fragile looking. She took a step closer and squinted to get a better view.

They seemed to be struggling over something...it wasn't clear what.

All of the sudden the smaller man let out a frightening yell, and Angeline hoped back.

The voice taunted again. "I am your Angel of Music...come to your Angel of Music." The figure walked forward, carrying something in his hand.

It continued to repeat the same lines over and over again; all the while, coming closer and closer. Angeline no longer had to squint to see who it was. It was clear and evident that it was in fact the Phantom, and he had brought Angeline a surprise.

As he came close enough for Angeline to touch him, she backed in horror at the grotesque sight. There stood the Phantom with a thick rope in his hand, and dangling from the knotted end was...Peter. Motionless...cold...silent...dead...*

Angeline sat up quickly, her body in a cold sweat. Would Erik do that to Peter? Possibly. If he was mad enough anything could, and would happen.

She turned on the cot and let her feet dangle over the edge. For some reason she felt like an apology was in order. She had thought the kiss was a secret, and for all she knew it was. But Angeline realized she had never really met the Phantom on the roof.

Angeline grabbed her coat and her old black tennis shoes, and headed into the bitter January weather. Once more she found herself, being dragged toward the opera house.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The Opera Populaire was quiet now. Not a noise could be heard.

Angeline opened the front doors as quietly as possible. It failed, however, as the door made a huge squeaking noise. She cringed and cursed under her breath. Angeline crept as quietly as her old tennis shoes would allow her. She stood in the midst of the hall, between the two stair cases.