Have you guys missed me? I've missed you all so much!
Here's a new POTO fic. This begins just as the movie ends. I'll be drawing from all venues of POTO...ie the movie, the novel, and susan kay's work. It's a little different, a little unique...and was written by me several years ago. I'm reworking it as I go.
Please review so I know what kind of reaction this is getting! It helps me create what YOU guys want!
-Nico
Christine closed Erik's fingers around the sparkling diamond ring she had placed into his hand.
He looked up at her, his hair hanging into his unmasked face.
He hadn't expected her to come back for this brief moment.
Desperately, he made one last attempt to keep her with him.
"Christine," he breathed, tears streaming down his defeated face, "I love you."
She looked down at him, her eyes knitting together in what Erik assumed was pity for the horrible creature standing before her.
Then, she pulled her hand from his grasp and turned away, running back to Raoul, who had already commissioned Erik's sleek boat for their escape.
As the lovers' voices rose softly in harmony against the dank walls of the catacombs, Erik's head dropped.
It was over. It was all over.
Erik's footsteps could barely be heard against the blanket of snow covering the cemetery grounds.
He sighed, roaming among the drab headstones for hours, feeling desperately alone.
There was nothing keeping him alive anymore. For the first time in his life, he felt truly void of any of the passion that had kept him going for most of his life. Ordinarily, he would vent his anger and frustrations on a piano, etching down the notes that he enjoyed, pushing aside the ones that offended…but now, after Christine had gone, there was not even a hint of musical prowess within Erik's veins.
Suicide had always been an option for Erik. Many times in his younger days he had romanticized the notion of destroying himself and freeing his soul to whatever God had in store for him…yet something had always caused him to stay.
But now, without Christine, without his music…there was nothing left for him.
There was a sort of calming effect that came as a result of his decision. Never again would he have to withstand the horrors of being alone…the terrible nightmare of having no one and nothing to love.
Full of self-pity, Erik had barely realized where he was standing. He looked up, snow falling on his already damp eyelashes.
He was at the base of Charles Daae's tomb.
The realization tore at his heart even harder.
Fleeting images of Christine's porcelain face as she walked up towards her father's tomb…towards Erik…suddenly clouded his already blurry vision. He grasped at his heart and fell to the stone steps, hopeful for a moment that God had taken it upon himself to end his miserable life.
Yet, his heart remained beating, even as thoughts of Christine threatened to rip it from his very chest.
Slowly, his gloved fingers found the small pistol he had tucked within the folds of his cape just before escaping from the mob that had come to kill him.
He should have just stayed…he could have saved a bullet.
The gun was one that Christine had admired on more than one occasion during her brief visits underground. The ivory handle made it especially eye catching. Erik smirked as he ran his fingers along the silver barrel, remembering how Christine's eyes had widened in fear when he had held it up for her to see.
There was something deliciously evil about frightening Christine.
But that was all over, and Christine had not chosen him.
No one ever would.
Erik raised his eyes to the sky, silently praying that his death would be fast and that God would take mercy on him and deliver him to the contentment that was the heaven his mother had told him about as a child.
He leveled the gun to his temple, closing his eyes and smiling.
Just before he was about to pull the trigger, he felt a cold hand come down on top of his.
He opened his eyes, staring up at a man he had never seen before.
"Perhaps you should listen to what I have to say before you do this," the man said, his gentle face smiling.
Erik jumped to his feet, suddenly ready to defend the life he was just about to end.
"Who are you?" Erik snarled. "What do you want?"
The man merely watched him, his eyes lighting up with humor.
"Speak, Sir!" Erik demanded, leveling the gun at the stranger, "Or I'll kill you without a second thought."
The man laughed, raising his arms as if challenging Erik to shoot.
Erik did not need the challenge. He had nothing left, not even a conscious.
He pulled the trigger three times in rapid succession, hitting the man square in the chest all three times.
The smile never once left the stranger's face.
"Have you gotten that out of your system?" The man asked.
Erik's mouth went dry. "But," he stammered. "But I shot you!"
"You can't kill what's already dead."
"Excuse me?" Erik asked.
"Look, friend," the man sighed. "This could go on forever and I don't have much time."
"I'm not your friend," Erik replied.
The man extended his hand. "Perhaps we can change that," he said. "I'm Charles. Charles Daae."
Erik looked at the hand and scoffed. "That's impossible."
Charles raised an eyebrow. "For someone who has lived a lifetime of impossibilities, that's an awfully ignorant thing to say."
"Charles is dead," Erik said dumbly.
"Yes, we established that," Charles replied lightly, pointing to a bullet hole in his shirt. "Remember?"
Erik backed up a step. "Am I dead?" He wondered aloud.
"Not yet," Charles said, moving closer. "Listen, Erik. I have an offer you might be interested in."
"I'm not interested," Erik said, turning away.
"Are you certain of that, Erik?" Charles called after him. "Even if what I have to offer could make you happier than you've ever been?"
Erik stopped, turning to regard Charles, who was smiling once again.
"Ah," Charles said nodding. "Happiness, the ultimate dream."
"Talk quickly," Erik warned. "I'm running out of patience."
"And I'm running out of time," Charles said, the smile finally fading. "I'm here to grant you another chance at life, Erik. A new beginning. A chance to be happy." He paused, looking at the masked man before him knowingly. "A chance to find love."
Erik's eyes flared. "How?" He asked, despite his intrinsic sense to distrust this man.
Charles smiled. "There are more possibilities in this life than you're aware of," he said cryptically. "All you have to do is agree to a second chance."
"You're insane," Erik told the man.
"What have you got to lose?" Charles countered.
Erik remained silent.
Charles sighed. "You're running out of time, Erik," he said gently. "She has already started planning the wedding."
Erik raised his eyes, knowing immediately whom he was speaking of.
Christine.
"Alright," he said.
"Alright what?" Charles prompted.
Erik sighed. "I want it," he said. "I want a second chance."
Charles smiled. "I was hoping it would be this easy."