Hopeful Soul: A Phantom Story

Chapter Nineteen.

A quick apology for not uploading in a few days, you guys. Feel free to be very judgmental with comments because it's much more fun that way. Thank you and enjoy 😊

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CHRISTINE:

All singers were allowed a day of rest before rehearsals on Don Juan began and I couldn't help but to think why Erik had given the opera to the mangers. He told me in his underground that the music made ones soul burn. So why would he let me sing? Was it all a part of some grand plan? I didn't know... I didn't want to know.

At the twentieth hour, I wrapped myself in a navy blue cloak and headed out of the opera. I wanted nothing more than a few moments of peace and I called a carriage, giving the driver five francs. He exuded a familiar air as we rolled off towards the cemetery, the street lamps being turned on by gas men. I observed him carefully, watching as the thin and messy black hair on his head waved with the wind.

He set a wide-rimmed fedora on his head, as if he knew I was looking, and nodded me off at my destination. I stepped out of the carriage with my bouquet of fifteen white roses, my father's favorites. When opening the gates to the cemetery, I glanced back at the carriage and the man had disappeared. No sweep of a cloak, no glint of his black hat - he had vanished.

I became slightly uneasy as I entered the cold, restless place. I passed several tombstones and statues before reaching my father's monument. It was small, dainty awning with his stone just beneath and set the bouquet next to the other, dying flowers. His stone was freezing cold to the touch - almost as cold as Erik's hands...

That was my purpose here - Erik. I could never say good bye to him after all he had done for me... how cruel. He needed as much care as anyone else, even though he killed Buquet. There was something wrong with him and I needed my father's help. He was the only man I could ever trust.

"Father," I knelt beside the stone, holding the top of the shaped crucifix, "something terrible has happened and I need your help," a sort of embrace had wrapped around my shoulders that my father once gave me, only it was cold to the bone, "I have no idea what I should do. Raoul, the boy from the village, has proposed to me, but Erik-" father would be ashamed if I even knew a man like him and I cried for that, "Oh, he is a broken soul. I do not know what happened to him, but something terrible once attacked him. I can feel it. I just need your guidance, father," I felt tears streaming down my face, a cold energy overwhelming the area, "You were always there for me."

Beautiful violin music flooded my ears and I looked around for the source, a great shadow drifting along the concrete awning. A violin was a few inches from a wide-rimmed hat and his cloak spread out like a pair of wings as he played the instrument. This was no normal person playing, "F-father?"

The man didn't speak at all as he played the violin. I felt somewhat drawn to this mystery, finding that I inched closer and closer. I heard my name in whisper, but Raoul then grabbed my shoulder, "Christine! Whatever you want to believe, this thing is NO angel!"

"Playing tricks again, Monsieur?" Erik stepped out of the shadows, a lovely violin in hand, and if it weren't for Raoul I would have left with him, "What do you say we let the girl speak her mind?"

I had absolutely nothing to say, mindlessly staring at Erik. His porcelain mask glowed in the dark along with his piercing, yellow eyes that stared me down. Raoul wrapped his arms around me and I blinked at Erik with tears still in my eyes. I could tell with the golden glint of his eye that he was more than angry, "Very well. I can play at that game."