◌The Stagehand◌
It felt as though hellfire had been poured into my veins. Every inch of my body throbbed in pain. This must be what it felt like to die? To go to hell? I had always thought I had been a good person. I didn't cheat or steal. But what I felt could only be a one-way ticket to hell.
A loud bang sent my ears ringing. Did they have guns in hell? Of course, they did, what kind of a question was that? Hell must be full of all kinds of weapons. What else would they torture us with?
The blurry image of a man stood over me. Was it Satan? As my vision became clearer I found the man--or devil--wore a porcelain white mask that covered the right side of his face.
Melodie...Melodie. God would I miss that incredible woman every moment of my miserable afterlife.
Pain shot through my body when the man picked me up. He was saying something I couldn't hear. I looked from the masked man to my surroundings. I was still in the theater. I guess both in life and death this place would be my personal hell.
A young, red-headed woman was standing a few feet away. She held a gun in her hands, a look of shock on her face. If I hadn't already met Melodie, I might have said she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.
I followed her gaze and found Richard laying still on the stage. A pool of ruby red liquid around him. He was dead.
I wasn't dead and the man holding me wasn't Satan.
I was being carried around like a rag doll by the infamous Phantom of the Opera.
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The Beauty Underneath ● The Phantom of the Opera
Fanfiction20 years after being shot at and surviving, Christine Daaé and the Phantom have made a happy life together. They've raised Gustave, war hero and musical genius, and a pair of twins, Maurice and Melodie. Unlike her siblings, Melodie was born with he...
