The Phantom Ascending |✔| [Phantom of the Opera Fanfiction]

The Curtain Falls

By the time our ordeal at La Fenice was over, I could barely walk and talk. The only thing keeping me going was my anxiety regarding Erik.

Manelli confessed to the police that he shot Teggio to save me, and thankfully they believed it was a noble act rather than a murder. It helped that Manelli was a person of some renown in Venice, and there was the fact that the dead man was seen as my kidnapper at the masquerade, which could also be confirmed afterwards by the masquerade host. We blamed all the other evening's mishaps on the dead man, too. Perhaps it was unfair, but it was the most practical way to sort everything out.

We answered all of their questions, with Will arriving to say that he was my date for the night, and doing his best to get them to leave me be.

"Miss Daae," he called me aside when the police left. "I am sorry for deceiving you during the show. I was ordered to switch places with Mr. Dessler in the foyer."

"It's alright. You were just protecting me."

Indeed, he was there the whole time. Oh! It was to him that I've so unceremoniously confessed my love. Erik could die and never know... Somehow, this realization was a blow too much. My breathing got quicker and quicker, until it turned to sobs and I couldn't catch another breath.

"I must go home, I must!"

"Miss Daae! Calm down, you need medical help. The physician has already been summoned to see miss Lavizzi, and he can see you now."

That helped me refocus. I sat down, trying to breathe more slowly, focusing on Will and his words.

"How is she?"

"As good as new."

"Good, everyone is fine, then..." Except for Erik. "Fetch the physician, I must take him to my home--"

"Miss Daae," Manelli strode to my side. "I will take you home. Will can oversee the damage assessment here. Please also handle that fool of a manager, boy, as I have no more patience for him."

"Yes, signor Manelli."

Manelli then took me to a gondola, and we were on our way. It was a bright, moonlit night, and my home was very close to La Fenice, so it wouldn't take us long to get there. All in all, it was a little over an hour since the bloody finale of Don Juan Triumphant, but that was still too long. Every minute was an eternity to someone with a stab wound. Oh Lord, let him live.

"I've already arranged for an errand boy to urgently deliver a note to my personal physician, who was also an excellent army surgeon in his younger days. He should be on his way to your home. Ah, I see his gondola -- he's already there."

"Thank you. Tell me, what did you know about the premiere? More than me, it seems..."

"I wrote to Mr. Dessler a week ago to arrange a meeting. I suspected that it was he who wrote Don Juan Triumphant, which in turn meant that he was the infamous Paris Opera Ghost. With that, some things regarding the two of you have finally began to make more sense," he smiled at me, looking tired and old beyond his fifty-something years.

"So what did you do?" I whispered, so that the gondolier can't hear us. The sounds of passing water helped mask our conversation.

"I listened to him. He did not deny his crimes, but he swore that he's done with that. I... I am a man whose life was dedicated to art. Geniuses like Mr. Dessler are too rarely born, and besides, I was touched by his remorse and his passionate urge to protect you. I decided to help him. I ordered the mirrors be put along the--"