Status: C'est fin!

The Opera Ghost

The End

DISCLAIMER: Sadly, I do not own the Phantom of the Opera, but I DO own this new guy…and Liana…and Madame Bellamont…and Mademoiselle LaViola…and all those other characters that you do not recognize. They’re mine. And I keep them in my closet. Enjoy!

WARNING: This is extremely long. And this is the end. May cause tears to flow.

Liana remained curled up in a ball with her back slumped up against the old, wooden door. She was crying heavily, and trying hard to stop. But she just couldn’t. Her heart was so badly torn.

Aiden…Monsieur Fantôme…Aiden… Monsieur Fantôme…who was the right choice?

Aiden was closer to her age. He was also an amazing dancer and very handsome.

Monsieur Fantôme on the other hand, was a few years older, but was also a handsome and amazing dancer.

The negative side to this argument that raged inside of her head was the fact that she hardly knew either of them. Sure, she had technically known Monsieur Fantôme longer, but it was still only a week.

Aiden was selfish…but at least she knew of his background. With Monsieur Fantôme, she knew absolutely nothing.

She shook her head and ran down the aisle of beds to her bed, and jumped on it to cry her eyes out some more. She squealed in pain and rolled towards the back of the bed. Her arm was bleeding. Liana looked down at her bed and saw that there was a red rose, fully bloomed and with its thorns still attached. It had a black ribbon tied around its center.

She carefully picked up the flower, and her heart fluttered. She knew exactly who this had come from.

“Oh, Monsieur Fantôme,” she cried out desperately. “I don’t know what to do! Please, help me!”

As if to answer her prayer, a hand came from behind and brushed itself underneath her chin, dragging her face along with it until she saw the beautiful, intense face of Monsieur Fantôme. He was still wearing Aiden’s costume, and the mask still concealing his face.

Liana’s eyes grew wide at the sight of him here, inside of her dorm. The fact of how he got in here, or how inappropriate it was that he was here, did not even phase her mesmerized mind. She was just thrilled to see him, happy to know that he had been listening.

His lips parted slight as he reached out and traced his hand down her arm, until it was entwined between her fingers. She stood up and followed him to the mirror, neither of them taking their eyes off of the other. He turned away for just a few seconds, long enough for him to press one of the intricate imprints on the edge of the mirror, and for him to see that the mirror had slid open.

Liana’s mouth dropped, as she realized that was how he got in. That was how he had known she needed him.

Monsieur Fantôme touched her chin again, and slowly, delicately, closed her mouth. They began their journey into the mirror.

It was a dark, cold tunnel, with only a single lamp lit up on one side, which Monsieur Fantôme grabbed and brought along with us.

There were only a few things that had scared Liana ever since she was a child; zombies, and the dark. Her brother had forced her to watch “Night of the Living Dead” when she was five years old, and she couldn’t get the idea of dead cannibals out of her head. Her other fear, she did not understand why she did not like it. Perhaps the mystery of the unknown, perhaps…she did not know. But this darkness was frightening to her.

Liana gasped and clung herself to Monsieur Fantôme, he looked down at her curiously and saw her scared expression. He smiled warmly at her, his blue eyes compelling, and he draped his arm across her shoulder. She felt better, safer.

Over five minutes had passed, and they had still not reached their destination. Liana did not care; she was with him. His presence made her shiver in delight uncontrollably, which he took as her being cold. He rubbed his warm hand up and down her arm to produce heat, and she was delighted to see his concern for her.

A light produced itself before her, as she saw an opening appear. They stepped out of the tunnel, and into a dreamland.

It was a cave, yes, but full of wondrous things. There was an organ against the wall, a large bed with a gold and white comforter, music and drawings sprawled out all over the room, and couches and chairs surrounding a large grandeur dining table. In the center of the room hung a small, yet brilliant chandelier that managed to illuminate the entire room.

“Excuse me for the mess, ma chere,” he said suddenly, releasing Liana, much to her dismay. “But I normally do not receive guests in my abode.”

Liana could not find her voice. She wanted to respond to him, say something intelligent, but found that she could not. She simply smiled at him.

Monsieur Fantôme nodded his head in return, and neither of them spoke for awhile. The two were obviously bashful in their present situation, and the unease in the air was thick as they tried to find a topic.

“I, erm, apologize for surprising you…on stage,” he spoke suddenly, turning away from her and towards his organ. “But I…I couldn’t stand to see you with him for another second. I took matters…into my own hands.”

“Oh…uh…” Liana, once again, scrambled for something to say to him. “I see…then…then why did you, uh, want someone to dance with me in the first place?”

Success.

“Madame Bellamont advised me to do so,” he answered after a brief pause, gazing over his shoulder at her. “She thought it would be better…so you would not…”

And he stopped, continuing to look at his organ.

“I would not, what?” Liana urged him, taking a step towards him.

And he whipped around, staring at her intensely.

“Oh, Christine,” he whispered, coming towards her with outstretched arms.

When he reached her, she returned the embrace, but said, “Monsieur, my name is Liana, remember?”

He said nothing.

********

Aiden began violently throwing his belongings into the two suitcases that were lying on his bed. He was furious at her. She had chosen him. HIM. A man she did not even know, a man that could be a murderer for all they knew. If he was supposed to be this, ‘phantom of the opera,’ then he would in fact be a murderer. And he paused.

She could be in danger…

Immediately as it had come, he shook the thought out of his head and threw his ballet slippers on the top of the messy pile. He was now wearing clothes; the cool draft in the opera house finally got to him.

Of course not, he thought to himself in a girly voice. He is Monsieur Fantôme! He is amazing!

He jam-packed both suitcases and tried, with much difficulty, to close them. As he finished the first one, there was a knock at his door.

“If this is Liana, I don’t want to speak to you,” he growled, not looking away from what he was doing.

He heard the door unlocked, and turned around to protest when he saw Madame Bellamont enter through the door, holding an old-fashioned candle in her hand.

“Oh,” he murmured. “It’s just you.”

“Aiden!” she shouted at him, out of breath. She seemed relieved to see him. “Aiden, Liana is in trouble!”

He snorted at her. “Yeah, right. Isn’t she bowing to her many adoring fans?” he asked her crudely. “Or is she with Monsieur Fantôme as we speak?”

“I believe it iz the latter,” she answered, completely missing the sarcasm. She set the candle down on his end table.

“Oh yes, she’s totally in danger.” He rolled his eyes.

“No, you do not understand, monsieur,” she cried out desperately, putting a hand on his suitcase, stopping his actions. He looked at her, fed up. “Monsieur Fantôme iz not who he seemz.”

This got his attention. “What do you mean?”

“’e truly believes zat ‘e iz the phantom of the opera,” she explained to him, hurriedly. “One minute, ‘e iz a normal man, and the next…he iz a completely different person. It iz possible that he could hurt Liana, if she rejects ‘im.”

“But she won’t reject him,” he answered quietly, pushing her arm off of the suitcase and returning to his work. “She loves him.”

“No, no,” she continued, taking him by the shoulders. “She only thinks zat she iz in love with ‘im. She iz in love with what ‘e represents. She iz in love with the story. If she was with ‘im for a longer period of time, and really with ‘im…”

Madame Bellamont covered her mouth in fear, allowing a sob to escape her mouth.

“She’s really in trouble, then?” Aiden asked her seriously. Madame nodded her head. “Then take me to her.”

********

Monsieur Fantôme was squeezing Liana tightly, not ever wanting to let her go. She cried out in pain.

“Monsieur, you’re hurting me,” she told him, and tried to push away. He wouldn’t budge.

“How long I have waited for this moment, my dear Christine,” he said to her, stroking her hair. “Now, I will not ever let you go.”

Now Liana was truly frightened.

It was not until moments later until he had finally let her go. He grabbed her hands and stared into her eyes, forcefully.

She recalled that this was like her dream, except this time, she had fear in her eyes and he, lust. She did not understand how things could have gone so wrong. She was supposed to be happy now. She was supposed to stay with Monsieur Fantôme for forever. Now, she was hoping that Aiden would burst in right now, and save her.

He was mumbling incoherently now, something about the angel of music, Christine, the opera house…and she could not discern the rest.

“Monsieur Fantôme,” she begged and pleaded with him. “Please, stop!”

Once again, she tried to escape his grip, but it was iron tight.

“Christine I love you!” he sang to her, his eyes flashing. He leaned in to kiss her, and she screamed.

He put his hands on her face to hold her steady, and she did likewise onto his, but instead pushing him away. And then, his mask came off.

Monsieur Fantôme pushed her to the ground, and she scraped her already scratched arms on the cold, rough ground. He was covering his face, and backing away from her.

“I trusted you,” he screamed. “I thought you loved me! But then you betrayed me! What is wrong with me? Is it my face? Is that it?”

He picked her up by her leotard and brought her face close to his, and he removed his hands from his face….and she saw him. And there was…

…absolutely nothing wrong with him. No scars, no abhorrent, decaying skin, just a normal, smooth, handsome face.

Liana was confused. “But Monsieur,” she began. “There is nothing wrong with your face.”

“Liar!” he snarled, throwing her back onto the ground. “Everyone has feared me, hated me, because of my face. No one gave me a chance…”

He began ranting again, and Liana tried to scramble away from him. He blocked her path.

“There is no leaving now,” he told her fiercely. “I told you, I will never let you go.”

Tears were streaming down her face once again. She was so terrified. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring…a wedding ring. He reached out to grab her hand, and she tried her best to escape his grasp.

“What has happened to you?” she cried. “You are not the same man who taught me to dance!”

“Dance?” he yelled. “I taught you to sing! You are no dancer.”

And then realization dawned on her. He thought that he was THE Phantom. The one from the story. And he also thought that she was his Christine.

“Oh no,” she whispered, hand covering her mouth. “Oh no…”

“Liana!” someone cried out from the tunnel.

Liana looked up hopefully, and there stood Aiden. She had never felt so happy and relieved in her entire life. She started for him, but her arm was yanked back.

“Oh no, Raoul, you can’t have her,” Monsieur Fantôme said to Aiden, shaking his head and his face seething with anger. “You already had your chance. Now she comes to me.”

“Dude, you’re not the Phantom,” Aiden retorted, crossing his arms and shaking his head as well. “Your face isn’t even messed up! You’re just messed up in the head.”

If one had thought that he was angry before, Monsieur Fantôme was ten times worse now. His arms were shaking so hard that Liana began to feel the tremors.

“Alright, boy,” he growled. “It’s time to end this…now.”

He threw Liana to the ground for the third time, and she took this as a chance to run into the welcoming arms of Aiden.

“Oh my God,” she said into his chest. He rocked her side to side, and rubbed her back in an attempt to soothe her, but he knew she would not relax until she was out of this nightmare.

“It’s fine, you’ll be out of here soon – ARGH!” Aiden cried out in pain as Monsieur Fantôme sliced his shoulder with an ancient sword.

Liana screamed and pulled Aiden away, trying to protect him from Monsieur Fantôme. Aiden was bleeding, badly. He could not fight Monsieur Fantôme in this condition.

“Please, leave him be!” she pleaded with him. “I’ll stay with you, just leave him alone!”

Monsieur Fantôme gave her a pained look, and appeared as if he was ready to drop the sword. Aiden looked up at her in surprise.

“You will…stay…with me?” Monsieur asked her quietly, and Liana nodded her head.

A clang rung throughout the cave as the sword hit the floor, and he reached out for her, a calm, serene smile returning to his face.

“Come, my angel…”

Liana looked down at Aiden, who was shaking his head at her, and then stepped away from him. Aiden grabbed for her, trying to force her to stay and not go with the mad man. But she didn’t. Aiden’s heart was broken once more.

Monsieur Fantôme gently pulled Liana into his arms, and slid the ring onto her finger. It fit perfectly.

“Stop!” another voice rang out from the entrance.

Madame Bellamont had stepped in from the darkness.

“Madame Giry!” Monsieur Fantôme cried out.

“No, Derek,” she began with a sigh, stepping further into the cave. “I am not Madame Giry. I am Madame Bellamont.”

“Derek?” he asked curiously. His face contorted, as if the name were familiar. “There is no Derek here…only the opera ghost.”

He squeezed Liana harder into his chest protectively, as if Madame would want to steal her away. Madame Bellamont bent down to see Aiden, and then she whispered something into his ear.

“What are you telling him?” Monsieur demanded. “No secrets shall be shared within my domain!”

He quickly reached down onto the ground to retrieve his sword, with Liana still in his arm, and shoved it in front of Madame’s face. She sighed, and held her arms up in surrender. She backed away from Aiden and tried once again to reason with Monsieur Fantôme.

“Monsieur Fantôme is no opera ghost,” she began quietly, breathing calmly and evenly, as if she had done this many times before. “He is a former dancer, Derek Lomar. He was an American dancer not too long ago, one of the, if not the, greatest, but he was not allowed to perform anymore when he attacked a fellow dancer. He escaped to this opera house eight years ago.”

“What?!” Liana shrieked, struggling even harder against Monsieur Fantôme’s strong arms.

“What are you going on about, Madame?” Monsieur Fantôme demanded angrily, although Liana could see him lower his sword slightly.

Liana felt sick to her stomach. Madame Bellamont had allowed her to live in this dream, this fantasy world, and just stood by and watched as it began to come crashing down on her. She looked at Monsieur Fantôme incredulously, with hate in her eyes.

“Do not blame ‘im, Liana,” Madame Bellamont soothed, not dropping eye contact from Monsieur Fantôme. “’e ‘as a multiple personality disorder. ‘e truly believes that ‘e iz the Phantom of the Opera.”

“I am the Phantom of the Op-” But before Monsieur Fantôme could complete his sentence, something hit him in the middle of his face. For the briefest second, Liana was set free, and she took off towards Aiden with lightning fast speed.

Aiden was standing up, holding his injured arm, with a second rock in his hand, preparing to launch it at Monsieur Fantôme. His face was intense.

“Aiden!” Liana cried out, jumping into his arms.

She saw him clench his teeth, and stepped away from his arm.

“Sorry,” she said weakly, never so happy to see him in her entire life. She was shaking uncontrollably.

“Let’s get out of here,” he suggested, glancing at the scene in front of him.

Monsieur Fantôme had already stood up, and they could see blood coming from his nose along with a large gash above it. Madame Bellamont ran up to prevent him from stampeding the two, only to be shoved into the wall and become unconscious.

“Hey, ugly,” Aiden shouted out, earning him a slap on the arm from Liana.

“Do not make him any angrier than he already is,” she whispered to him, ignoring his cry.

“The only way to beat him is to follow the story line,” he retorted, gazing desperately into her eyes. “Kiss…kiss him.”

Liana looked taken back. She shook her head, bewildered, and refused. Of course, days ago, hours ago, she would have loved the very idea, but not anymore. Not when she discovered what a monster he was on the inside.

“Do it, for our sakes,” Aiden commanded, resting his uninjured arm on her shoulder, and kissing her lightly on the cheek. “If he believes that he is the Phantom, then this should work.”

Liana held back a sob and nodded her head. Delicately, she walked over to Monsieur Fantôme and stared directly into his eyes. He had lowered his sword somewhat, but his eyes still held anger, a sea of rage. She brought her hand up and brushed the side of his face, which he responded by closing his eyes in ecstasy. The sword slowly lowered to the ground.

Please let this work. Liana prayed to herself and leaned in to do the unthinkable.

She kissed him lightly, on his soft pink lips. In her imagination, she had constantly saw herself doing exactly as she was doing now. Of course, her imagination also consisted of the two of them on the top floor of the Eiffel Tower, but still. She imagined sparks around the two of them, church bells ringing, and a fire to go through both of their bodies.

This time, in reality, she felt…nothing. Only that she was kissing a desperate man, who frantically needed someone to love him, to take care of him, to need him as much as he needed someone. A tear slipped down her cheek.

When they pulled away, he looked at her strangely, curiously, and then brought his fingers to his lips, as if to feel the kiss still there. His lips curled into his mouth and he fell to the floor.

Monsieur Fantôme’s hands went to his face and his eyes widened in horror. He looked around himself, and then up at Liana. He shook his head in fear.

“Liana, I…” He did not know what to say to her. All of the horrible things that she had just experienced…they must have been unbearable.

He saw her for the first time since the recital, and saw that she was terrified. Her body was shaking, her costume was destroyed, her arm was bleeding, and she was looking at him as if he were a monster.

“Dear God,” he whispered as he saw Madame Bellamont to his right, lying on the ground and unconscious.

“Derek…my name is Derek…” he mumbled to himself, all traces of his former anger gone completely. “I am not the Phantom. I am Derek.”

He stood up suddenly, and stared at Liana miserably, knowing that he had lost her for forever. She would never again feel the same things that the two had shared over the past week.

“Go,” he told her quietly, gazing down at the floor. “Please, go. Before I cause you any more misery.”

Liana did not move. She stared at him, seeing Monsieur Fantôme once more, and the butterflies returned to her heart.

“Monsieur Fantôme,” she began, not sure how to finish her statement, but he still looked up at her with his sea blue eyes, full of pain.

“No, you do not deserve me,” he told her with a small smile playing on his lips. “Get out.”

“But sir-”

“Get out!” he yelled, his face contorting in pain and rage. He pointed towards the cave exit.

Liana jumped slightly, and then ran over to Aiden, who was gripping the cave wall and watching the scene incredulously.

“I can’t believe that worked,” he said mostly to himself.

“You mean you were bluffing?” Liana whispered to him, glancing back at Monsieur Fantôme.

“Hey, it was the only plan I could think of,”Aiden said with a shrug, trying to lift the stuffy mood.

Liana placed Aiden on her shoulder, and helped her weak love out of the cave. She stopped at the very entrance, and turned around to look one more time at Monsieur Fantôme, and then continued on.

She did not care about what had just unfolded. She knew the man that she loved.

Derek Lomar watched the two disappear into the shadow, and smiled. He wanted her to be angry with him now, just so that she would never want to see him again. But he underestimated her. She was the most unique girl he had ever met.

He gazed down at Madame Bellamont and decided to pick her up. He carried her away to his bed shoved in the corner of the cave. He would have to apologize to her as soon as she woke.

Derek was angry with himself. He had allowed his other side to take over, and he should have known better. He was the better dancer, Derek knew that, but he was also the one with the terrible temper, and tonight had proved just that. He had lost her. He had lost Liana. He would never let something as terrible as this happen again.

********

Five years had passed, and Derek had come out of hiding. He had taken up a residence in the opera house, but not in a cave. He was allowed to teach ballet classes to anyone willing to be taught, but he himself had never returned to the world of dance.

After the world had found out about his attack on a fellow dancer, Derek had been embarrassed and fled to Paris, taking refuge inside the opera house. Madame Bellamont had so graciously taken him in and followed everything that he had asked of her, even when the other side of him appeared.

He was getting counseling and seeing a therapist, trying earnestly to get rid of his other half. The one who had destroyed all his chances at happiness. He had not heard from the other side of himself in such a long time.

Derek had not seen Liana since that night, not in person, at least. She was now an official ballet dancer, participating in many Broadway shows, including The Nutcracker, Sleeping Beauty, Swan Lake, and the Phantom of the Opera…

He only watched her from afar. He was slightly happy to see that occasionally, Aiden Peirce would be her counterpart. The prince, mostly, naturally. But he never heard much more of them being together. One would think that the news would be all over something like that.

Derek was in the auditorium, making last minute preparations for the recital, where a new set of girls were going to perform, when he heard footsteps from behind.

Derek turned around and saw a young woman of 20, perhaps 21, with long brown hair and pale skin. He recognized her immediately.

“Li, Liana,” he cried out, taking a step back and almost falling into the orchestra pit.

It was true. Liana had returned.

“Hello, Monsieur Fantôme,” she said, smiling at him.

She took a step closer until she was standing face to face with him. She put her hands around his face, and Derek did not know what to do. He allowed her to do anything she wanted with him. And he did.

Liana pulled his face in closer to hers and kissed him. And this time, sparks were flying.
♠ ♠ ♠
A/N: Sniff, so guys this is the end. I am so sorry if it sucked. I knew how I wanted to end this, but I just couldn’t put it into words. But I thought it turned out alright. Hey, the Phantom got the girl! Even if it did not seem like it would happen.

I was going to write an epilogue, where she appeared in his life again, but decided against it. It’s already a full chapter longer than it was supposed to be.

Tell me what you liked, what you hated, and so on. Criticism (polite criticism, mind you) is always welcome.

Farewell, my loving, adoring fans! Stay tuned for future stories of mine!