Of Phantoms and Angels

XXII. The Truth Behind the Mask

      1.

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     Raoul and Christine drifted down the lake in the small boat, Lilienne huddled in front of them.  As they moved farther away from the lair, the shouts of the mob grew fainter and fainter until the three of them sat in silence.  The only sound was that of the pole sloshing through the water as the Vicomte steered them.

     Perhaps this isn't so bad, Lilienne thought as they drifted, everyone gets what they want; the Opéra Populaire is rid of the ghost that haunts them, and Christine is free from his prying eyes to be with the love of her life.

     Lilienne wasn't sure what she was supposed to do, now.  She could wait until the opera was rebuilt and resume her position in the corps de ballet.  She could return to Belle-Lille and her family.  But I fear that they have not forgiven me for leaving.  She could go somewhere far away and find a little home by the sea, where she would watch the sun set into the ocean every night.  But, these all seemed to be tainted with grey.  All of them felt wrong, as if there was no more life left for her above ground.  Why must I leave?  

     In that moment, it was as if a cloud had cleared out of her head.  It was wrong to leave.  It was right for her to be down here, with Erik.  And she realized with a rush of joy that it wasn't too late.

      She jumped to her feet, causing the boat to rock tediously. "Stop!"

     Raoul dug the pole in to the ground, bringing the boat to a halt, and the two of them looked at her in bewilderment.

     "What is it?  What's wrong?" he asked, his brow furrowing.

     "This is wrong..."

     "Lili?"  Christine mirrored the Vicomte's concern.

     "I should never have left.  You chose your Vicomte over your Angel, which is why he needs me.  I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I can not go with you."

     She gave them a smile before jumping out of the boat.  She landed with a splash in the waist-deep water, looking back the way they'd come.  I'm not leaving you, Erik.  Never again.  The smile remained on her lips as she headed back towards the lair, moving as fast as she could through the water.

     "Lilienne," Christine's voice echoed behind her.  She turned.  "Look after him."

     She nodded before turning back, taking a deep breath as she plunged into the dark tunnels; she was on a mission, now - a mission to save the Phantom of the Opera.

     The dark water slowed her considerably, yet her desperation to reach him on time spurred her onward.  The water sloshed around her and splashed up her body as she stumbled through it, dim torch-light illuminating her way.  Then, as she drew nearer to his dwelling, the voices of the bloodthirsty mob lead her along.  Her heart raced, and the panic that had originated in the pit of her stomach was now climbing up her throat.

     Finally, she saw the entrance to the lair, and Erik had left his door wide open.  She ran in, casting a glance behind her - they were close.  Very close.

     "Erik?"

    Glass cracked underfoot as she passed the smashed mirrors.  She saw his organ with music strewn all about, just as always.  She saw the Christine mannequin, missing its dress.  She saw his music box with the little Persian monkey.  And beside this music box, she saw his white mask with its fixed expression of anger; how different it looked, lying there on the table amidst the other inanimate objects.