The Phantom's Final Bow (Phantom Of The Opera fanfic)

The Phantom's Final Bow

"Lot 666 then, a chandelier in pieces." pronounced the auctioneer.

"Some of you may recall the strange affair of The Phantom Of The Opera. A mystery never fully explained. We're told, ladies and gentlemen, that this is the very chandelier which figures in the famous disaster."

Meg took a deep breath, closing her eyes. She could still hear the terrified screams of those in the audience, those that had come for a night of pleasure and enjoyment, those who were now fleeing for their very lives.

As she opened her eyes, she realized that the chandelier was sitting directly before her.

"Our workshops have repaired it, and wired parts of it for the new electric light." The auctioneer continued.

"Perhaps we can frighten away the ghost of so many years ago with a little illumination. Gentlemen?" He signaled the young men lining the stage.

Raoul felt a shiver go down his spine as he recalled the last time he had seen this chandelier. Back when Christine was with him. When he didn't know if he would ever be able to protect her from the man in the mask.

Everyone raised their eyes, holding their breath as the chandelier was hoisted into the air.

Now, no one had seen the Phantom since that fateful night of many years ago. Rumors flew, some saying that he had run away. Others thought he died of a broken heart. Perhaps someone had found him and stabbed him through. Some even believed that he had run off to take revenge on raoul and bring Christine back with him.

But Raoul and Meg knew the truth.

Suddenly, the lights on the stage sprang to life. Everyone gasped, looking around as if they expected him to appear right before them.

They looked up towards the dreaded chandelier. One flicker, then another, until the entirety was bright as day.

The Phantom was still there. He was still resentful, and he wanted everyone to see his final act.

................................

Erik had spent the last 50 years wallowing in his own misery.

There were cobwebs on every surface, and pieces of glass on every inch of the stone floor. Bits of shredded music sheets were still scattered, and whenever one would come into his line of vision, Erik felt it all over again.

Christine had left. She had chosen Raoul. She betrayed him.

For several years, he would find food sitting on a tray atop a wobbly stool that somehow remained unbroken. He knew that it was Madame Giry that had been there.

But one day, she stopped coming altogether, and she never came back.

This tore the scarred wound back open. The one person who had cared for him. The only one who was brave enough to be in his presence. The one that saved him all those years ago. She was gone.

He was alone from that time on.

His routine hadn't changed in months. He had the same goal every single day. To light up the chandelier one last time. To let them know that he was still bitter, that he hadn't forgotten what they'd all done to him.

He had overheard some men talking of an auction that was to happen on the 12th of December, and he had been preparing ever since.

Now the day was almost here.
He sighed, heaving his weary bones up from off the floor. Everything was set. The chandelier would once again be lit, and everyone would know that it was he who did it.

He knew what was coming. He had known for a long time now. But he couldn't leave without knowing that he'd had the last word.

He still had one last thing to do.

.....................................

The carriage came to a stop in the middle of the graveyard. The coachman opened the door, and helped bring Raoul safely to the ground.

Raoul didn't have to say a thing, this wasn't the first time they had been there. The coachman pushed his wheelchair through the thin layer of snow, towards the grave that had been there for far too long.

They didn't have to be close to it to read what it said. They both knew it by heart.

"Christine
1854-1917
Beloved Wife And Mother"

Raoul heaved a sigh, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. His beautiful Christine. How he missed her.
A red spot against the grey stone caught his eye, and he turned to see a single red rose.

He let out a breath.

Attached to the rose was the ring.

......................................

Christine. His angel of music. His beloved Christine....

Images of the beautiful woman flashed before Erik's eyes. He smiled softly for the first time since she had left. He was at peace.

He let go of the breath he had been holding for what seemed like forever, and drifted off into unconsciousness.

The Phantom had taken his final bow.