So here is my new story. I hope you enjoy it immensly. Please review. I'm welcome to constructive critisism and ideas!
Raoul pulled back the silk curtains of his king sized bed and crawled into the silk sheets. He pulled the silk sheets over his silk pajamas and buried his "beautiful" head into his silk pillow. Life was great.
Just then Christine came in. She also was wearing silk pajamas. Raoul required it. Satin gave him hives, and cotton was just… ugh. Christine crawled into the sheets and snuggled up against Raoul's chest. He breathed a sigh of contentment. Now that that stupid ordeal at the opera house was over, and that stupid ghost was gone from his life, he and Christine were free to move on.
He moved away from Christine and blew out the candle. The room was plunged in complete darkness. Raoul immediately fell asleep.
XxXxX
Erik hung his suit on the hanger and hung it on its designated peg on the wall. Next the mask came off. He rubbed his face and grimaced at the nasty disfigurement that covered the right side. The disfigurement that had lost him his Christine.
Shrugging that thought off, Erik walked across the room in his black cotton pajamas and crawled into his coffin. He was exhausted. As Erik shut his eyes, he thought about his day. He'd done nothing but play his organ, but that could be tiring. Since there was nothing else to do, Erik was composing an opera about his life. Though he added some twists. Christine chose him in the end and he became a great opera star with her beside him.
But that wasn't going to ever happen. So Erik would be content with his life until something new and intriguing came along. Erik blew out his candle and drifted off to sleep.
XxXxX
A cold wind blew outside. An old woman walked, bent over her crooked walking stick. The night was dark, and the stars shone brightly. The moon was in its waning crescent form. The old woman, though looking as if she were about to keel over, she had a look of determination in her eyes.
Finally she came to the Paris Opera House. Now… her work begun.
XxXxX
Erik awoke to some rustling of papers. His eyes flew open. Was that a person? As he stumbled out of the coffin, the rustling stopped. A small cry of triumph was heard. Erik rolled his eyes and went back to sleep.
XxXxX
Raoul jerked awake. What was going on here? No one broke into the Vicomte's home. Flipping back his covers angrily, but quietly as not to wake Christine, he walked to his door. The noise stopped. A small cry of triumph was heard. Raoul rolled his eyes and went back to sleep.
XxXxX
Erik was awoken again by something being spilled on his face. He sniffed. Was that… mint? MINT? The Phantom of the Opera did not wear mint! He looked around but saw nothing. Collapsing in his coffin he went back to sleep. Things would most definitely look better in the morning.
XxXxX
Raoul did not awake as the white object was placed gently onto his face. The old woman grinned a toothless grin. Her work was done. The rest would pull together. Muttering under her breath, she walked out of the Vicomte's home… and disappeared.
XxXxX
Erik stretched and sat up. Sunlight poured in the window. He did a double take, sunlight? In the cellar? What? How….
Erik glanced around him. He was in a large room that was elaborately decorated. He was sitting in a silk draped bed. Looking next to him he saw a sleeping figure. He definitely wasn't in the cellar anymore. He shook the sleeping figure.
It was Christine.
Erik pulled back, shocked. Where was he?
Christine sat up and rubbed her eyes. "What is it, Raoul?"
His eyes widening, Erik almost screamed. She was looking straight at him. There was no way that Raoul and he could be mistaken. Erik covered his mouth and ran for the bathroom.
After emptying his stomach into the toilet, he glanced in the mirror. There was no disfiguration, no ugliness… just… Raoul.
"Nothing. Sorry. Just a little stomach bug, sweety." He yelled back to Christine.
"Are you sure? That was some… uh… nasty stuff." She said.
Erik glanced around nervously. Why was he in that stupid fop's body. This was bad.
"You know, I think I'm going to go for an early morning walk. To clear my head." He said.
"Oh… but, Raoul, you never go on walks. Are you sure you don't want me to call the carriage?" Christine sounded confused.
"Um… I'll be fine, dear." Erik stammered.
XxXxX
Raoul stretched as he woke. It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness. Darkness? There was never darkness in his chamber unless it was night. Hmm…
Crawling out of the coffin… Raoul's eyes widened. "COFFIN!" he exclaimed. His exclamation echoed around the room.
This was not his home. Christine wasn't here. Raoul began to panic. He hadn't managed to get out of the coffin, so as he began to rock back and forth, the coffin went with him. Raoul decided it would be best to get out of the coffin as soon as possible. Crawling out, he rubbed his face. Wait… that wasn't HIS face. His face was soft and smooth. This face was ugly and mottled.
His worst fears had come true. Erik had kidnapped him, turned into an evil scientist, and done a face transplant. He'd had a dream about that once.
Who was he kidding?
He was Erik. He, Vicomte Raoul de Chagney, was the new Phantom of the Opera.
There you go. Please review! I love getting your thoughts!
-Kara