Gaston Leroux

retold by Jenny Dooley

Express Publishing

Published by Express Publishing

Liberty House, New Greenham Park,
Newbury, Berkshire RG19 6HW
Tel: (0044) 1635 817 363 - Fax: (0044) 1635 817 463
e-mail: inquiries@ expresspublishing.co.uk
http://www. expresspublishing.co. uk
Jen n y Dooley, 2004
Design & Illustration Express Publishing, 2004
Colour Illustrations: Nathan & Stone
First published 2004
Published in this edition 2007
Made in EU
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced,
stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any
means, electronic, photocopying, or otherwise, without the prior
written permission of the publishers.
This book is not meant to be changed in any way.
ISBN 978-1-84466-958-5

Contents
Introduction

................................................... 4

Chapter Is

The V oice................................................. 8

Chapter 2:

The Mystery Begins.............................. 12

Chapter 3:

The Phantoms B ox .............................. 20

Chapter 4:

The Angel o f M usic.............................. 29

Chapter 5:

The Phantom S trikes!..........................39

Chapter 6:

The R ing................................................48

Chapter 7:

Journey o f T error.......................... .. . 56

Chapter 8:

Eriks S tory....................................... 65

Chapter 9: The Torture C ham ber...............................73

Chapter 10:

The Last Prom ise................................... 78

Activities:

............... ................................ 86

Projects:

.............................................. 106

Word List:

.............................................. 110

The Voice
1 1 had taken more than a decade to complete the Paris Opera
I House, with its seventeen floors of grand architecture, making
it the largest theatre in the world. Here, wealthy and noble Parisians
enjoyed great musical performances, either from the magnificent
auditorium or from their elegant, private boxes. Intervals provided
the opportunity to walk about the imposing Grand Foyer and
v/
Grand Staircase, decorated with precious marbles and onyx, and
to socialise amongst statues of the worlds greatest composers"
Here the most elegant members of Parisian society could display
themselves in their finest clothing and jewels. This was just as
important as watching the performance itself. The Paris Opera
House was an architectural jewel, but while its patrons applauded
the great performances, they were quite unaware of another, strange
world hidden beneath the stage. Here, in its many dark cellars and
web of passageways lay the secrets of another world, a world
where no ray of light ever shone, where a ghostly creature living
in the furthest depths would rise to terrorise the patrons and
performers of the Paris Opera.This is where our story of darkness
and intriguejanfolds: the story of the Phantom of the Opera.
Dawn had not broken one Paris morning, when a voice could
be heard in a small flat in the Rue Notre-Dame-des-Victoires, a
voice so perfect and pure, one would believe only an angel could
possess it. Christine Daae, a singer at the Opera, awoke to the
heavenly singing, experiencing the joy of a young child on its
first Christmas. She thought she was still dreaming to hear a sound

so perfect. When she was fully awake, the voice began to fade,
and then disappeared with the light of day, leaving her to wonder
what being could have produced such a beautiful sound. She was
unable to sleep again and thought only of the melodic voice the
whole day.
Even though she had witnessed so many exceptional performances
at the Paris Opera, Christine had never heard such musical perfection
and she longed to experience again the thrill it had brought her and she was not to be disappointed. The voice returned to her
again and again in her room each morning before dawn; then one
day it vanished as suddenly as it had come.
She prayed with all her heart each night that the angelic voice
would return, but she waited alone in a silence broken only by
the occasional rumble of a carriage on the cobblestone street
below.
A few weeks later in her dressing room, as she was preparing
for the evenings performance, she became aware of a faint sound,
gradually gaining strength and coming near her. It was the voice!
Its song filled her with a sensation she could not describe as its
beauty flowed through the walls. She did not know where it had
come from, and yet it seemed to be all around her. She was attracted
to the voice like a magnet. Then the singing stopped, and the
voice spoke to her.
Ive come to offer you a gift, Christine - to make your greatest
dream come true. I ask only one thing in return ...
At that very moment, a bond was created between Christine
Daae and the voice that would change her life forever.

The Mystery Begins

:?r^ome months later, as the curtain fell on die evenings performance,
J

six frightened ballerinas rushed breathlessly into the dressing

room of Annie Sorelli, the principal dancer. The youngest, Meg

Giry, was squealing,The Phantom! We saw him!
Everyone had heard stories about the Phantom, but the
level-headed Sorelli had always dismissed diem as mere superstition.
Madame, we really saw him! He was ... he was with the
Persian!
Now Sorelli had to struggle to stay calm. The Persian was a
dark, mysterious man, with deep green eyes that seemed to pierce
the very soul of anyone who met his gaze. No one knew his
name. No one knew what he did. The only thing anyone knew
for certain was that he was always somewhere In the Opera,
startling people by appearing and disappearing at odd times,
usually when someone thought they had seen the Phantom.
As the young dancers fluttered about, chattering on and on
about the incident, a tall dark figure slipped past the crowd and
vanished out of sight, his black cloak hiding him in the shadows
backstage.
Sorelli pulled herself together.
Youre acting like a silly goose, Meg.There is no Phantom.
Meg, with hands on her hips, answered back crossly.
Well, if hes not a Phantom, he certainly looks like one - just
like Monsieur Buquet said! He was as thin as a rake, with eyes

so deep in his face they looked like black holes, and a face that
didnt even seem human. His skin was pale and grey and his nose
was so small it almost wasnt there ... and there was not one hair
on his head!
Joseph Buquet was the chief scene changer and, like Sorelli,
a calm and sensible person who would not make up stories about
seeing the Phantom. So, those who believed in the Phantom took
him seriously; those who did not thought someone had just played
a joke on him. One thing was certain: there were now six more
witnesses who had seen this terrifying creature.
Sorelli, however, insisted.
My dears, pull yourselves together!
Excitedly, Little Meg told the dancers,
My mother says the Phantom doesnt like people talking about
him - and when they do, terrible things happen!
And how does your mother know what he does and doesnt
like?
Well, the other dancers leaned closer to hear,he talks to her!
Oh, Meg! Stop it! Sorelli was annoyed.
In Box 5, to the left of the stage. Mama looks after that box
and she knows!
The others looked at her in horror.
Its true! Others have seen him there, too. He wears a long
black evening cloak and a white mask that covers most of his
face and ...
At that moment they heard a womans voice, screaming frantically.
It was Megs mother, Mme Giry, a short plump woman, whose
clothes looked as though they had once belonged to someone
else. She was usually chatty and friendly, but now she appeared
deathly white with shock.

Monsieur Buquets dead! They found him lying in the third

cellar with rope marks on his neck! Hes hanged himself!
Sorelli, too, went white with shock. Monsieur Buquet was a
reasonable man and she could not imagine what might have made
him take his own life. She and the other dancers looked at each
other with the same awful-words on their lips: the Phantom!
Suddenly, in spite of the disorder backstage, Sorelli noticed the
Count Philippe de Chagny, a Parisian nobleman and patron of the
Opera. He was accompanied by his younger brother,the Viscount
Raoul de Chagny, a young blond-haired blue-eyed man with a
neatly trimmed moustache, who attracted the attention of women
wherever he went.
Count de Chagny! How delightful to see you!
Madame, what a wonderful evening! As always, your dancing
was superb and I must say, I had no idea the Opera had such a
great talent as Christine Daae! She sang so beautifully tonight!
When Meg Giry heard this, she hid a frown and muttered,
If only hed heard her six months ago; she could barely sing
a note then!
Meg was close to the truth. Christine Daae had not been well
received by the hard-to-please Parisian Opera audience.The death
of her father when she was younger had robbed her of her
inspiration and her performances lacked their former energy. But
recently her voice had developed exquisitely. Tonight, she had
stood in for Carlotta, the Spanish diva, who had been taken ill,
and she sang like an angel as the lead in the evenings performance.
It did seem strange that someone who was untrained only months
ago could now be so gifted. Some would call it unbelievable.
What was her secret? Everyone wondered.

The handsome young Viscount Raoul went to Christine's dressing

room immediately after the performance. The room was full of
people congratulating her on her wonderful singing. She was
polite and gracious, a real beauty, with clear blue eyes and smooth
white skin. She was laughing and talking with her guests, but
when she turned and saw Raoul, she became noticeably uneasy.
As their eyes met, Raoul bowed and kissed her hand.
We meet again, Christine. Dont you remember the little boy
you knew so many years ago? Dont you remember when I ran
into the sea to get your scarf for you?
Christine only looked away, as though she hadnt recognised
him, and went on to greet her other admirers. Raouls face saddened;
he couldnt have imagined that she might forget him. He desperately
wanted to speak to her alone, so he waited outside her dressing
room until everyone else had left. Just as he was about to knock
on her door, he heard a voice inside - a mans voice!
Christine, your voice was as sweet as honey tonight!
I promised to sing only for you and I have. I gave you my soul.
You have a beautiful soul, my dear, and I am grateful. Be sure
you are ready for tomorrow.
Yes, of course. Ill be waiting ...
Raouls heart filled with jealousy. Who was this other man? He
hid in the passage and waited for him to leave. When the door
opened and Christine left alone without locking it behind her,
Raoul crept back inside. He could see nothing in the darkness
and called out,
Whos there?
When there was no reply, he persisted.
You wont leave this room, sir, until you identify yourself!

Raoul lit the gaslight and looked around, but the room was
completely empty! He opened all the wardrobes. He found nothing.
There were no windows in the room.The man had vanished into
thin air!
Hurt by Christines rejection and confused by the disappearance
of this other man, Raoul finally left the dressing room and the
Opera. Riding home in his carriage, the same thought echoed in
his head.

The Phantom's Box

hat night, despite the tragedy that had been discovered earlier,
a costume party was being held in the Grand Foyer to welcome

the new managers of the Opera, Monsieur Moncharmin and

Monsieur Richard. All the guests were wearing elaborate costumes
and masks for the occasion and enjoying the party, not concerning
themselves with other matters. Suddenly, Meg Giry cried out,Look
- the Phantom! Thats him!
All eyes in the room turned to a tall thin shadow of a figure
wearing a long red velvet cloak and a large feathered hat. As he
turned and faced the other guests, everyone gasped in horror at
his terrible face, more horrifying than any mask. It was such an
awful sight that everyone present wondered the same thing: was
this a costumed guest, or did the so-called Phantom have the
nerve to appear before them? Before anyone could speak, the
cloaked figure slipped silently out of the room.
The next day, Moncharmin and Richard were discussing their
new responsibilities, as outlined in a memorandum from the
previous managers.
Our predecessors must be mad! Either they think were stupid
or theyve got a very strange sense of humour.
Richard was half-smiling as Moncharmin responded,
I dont believe all this nonsense about a Phantom! Box 5
belongs to the Phantom and must remain vacant at all times?
And we mustnt forget to pay him - or it - 20,000 francs a month
or well be sorry!

The managers quickly decided that their predecessors were

indeed mad and that they would not be threatened by some
invisible creature. So, they welcomed patrons into Box 5 and, of
course, left no money for the mysterious Phantom. Before long,
however, they realised they should have paid closer attention to
the memorandum of the former managers.
One morning, soon after this conversation, Moncharmin arrived
to find a strange-looking letter on his desk. It was in childish
handwriting in red ink:

Dear A Aoncharm'n and A Richard,

This is to inform you that I h<tve been very upset
Tatefy to find my box occupied by other people. You
know very weff my terms and conditions regarding Pox
5. It belongs to m and no one ePse. So, if you wish to
-five in peace, kind-Py respect my wishes and do not give
my private box to others in the future.
The Phantom

Look at this! Moncharmin snorted at Richard. It looks like

our predecessors are trying to play a joke on us!
Do you think theyre trying to keep a box for themselves?
Of course! What else could it be?
Well, let them have it, then.
Fine. Ill send them some tickets for tonights performance Box 5, of course!

M oncharmin and Richard were so busy with their new

responsibilities that they did not pay attention to Box 5 that night.
The next morning, however, they had an unpleasant surprise.They
found another note from the Phantom:

Dear t\ Moncharmin <in<f /A Richard,

Thank you for keeping

my box vacant, last night's

performance was most enjoyable. I shaP write

soon about the mney the Opera sti-W owes m for
this year.
The Phantom

So the other managers had not attended last nights performance but the Phantom had. Richard was furious.
Thats it, Ive had enough! Im not giving in to this madness!
Our patrons will sit in Box 5, Phantom or no Phantom!
However, some days later, Moncharmin and Richard received
a report concerning the questionable activities in Box 5 that week.
It was written by the Opera Inspector, Monsieur Bertillon, whose
job it was to inform the management about complaints and matters
of security at the Opera.This was important to Moncharmin and
Richard, as they were responsible for the comfort and enjoyment
of their customers.
I demand an explanation for this report, Richard snapped at
the shy Monsieur Bertillon.The inspector responded nervously,
Well, sir, people are complaining about strange noises in Box
5 and they say theyve been ordered by someone to leave."

And what does the box-keeper have to say about all this?
Richard was losing more than his temper.
She says its the Phantom.
^Bring that woman to me at once, Richard roared.
" When Mme Giry came into the office, Richard was blazing
with anger.

'

Madame, whaj: is your name?

Mme Giry.
What is all this nonsense about a Phantom in "Box 5? he
demanded irritably.
It isnt nonsense! The Phantom is angry because his box has
been occupied. All you need to do is follow his instructions and
no one will be harmed. He told me that himself.
Richard wiped his damp forehead and groaned with frustration.
Moncharmin said simply,
Fine, you may go, Madame.

When she had left, Richard looked at Moncharmin.

Shes bad for business. Lets get rid of her and find someone
who doesnt have such an active imagination. As for all this
nonsense about Box 5,1 suggest we look into the matter ourselves!
In the meantime, the Opera performers were going about their
usual rehearsals. Christine practised endlessly, sometimes by herself,
into the early morning hours.
One morning, when only a few workers remained at the Opera,
Christine stood in front of her dressing room mirror. Suddenly, to
her horror, the mirror seemed to move - to shimmer and turn as
if by itself, and in a blinding flash of light she felt herself swept
into a damp dark place. A cold bony hand touched her face and
she fell faint from the fright of it.

Coming to, she felt a tall thin man pick her up and carry her
off. She couldnt see his face as they hurried through the darkness
and she wondered how he moved so easily without light, stepping
effortlessly over and around what must have.been pieces of stage
sets stored behind her dressing room. It seemed as if only skin
and bones were holding her as they continued down, deep into
the cellars. Christine was too frightened to speak, sure that her
captor would do something awful to her if she made any noise.
Suddenly, she was aware of the sound of water lapping gently
against a boat.They had reached a lake beneath the Opera House
itself.There, the bony hands placed her in the boat and they rowed
off into the mist. A gas lamp on the front of the vessel gave off a
soft glow as he rowed her towards a house on the other side of
the lake.
In the dim light, she could see that he was wearing a long
black cloak and a high silk evening hat. A white mask covered
most of his face.When they reached the opposite shore, he carried
her from the boat and set her down onto the ground. He knelt
before the frightened trembling girl and said,
You are in no danger, Christine. I could never harm you. Do
not let my mask frighten you. I only beg you not to touch it. If you
see my face and learn my secret, I can never.let you go.You have
sung only for me and your devotion has touched my heart ...
Christine cut off his words with a desperate cry, and with a
feeling of horror so deep she could hardly breathe, she now
realised who he was. It was the one who had transformed her
from a nameless voice in the chorus to the star she had become.
It was the voice! She was weak with shock, but somehow gathered
the strength not to faint. Now that she knew who he was, she
could think only of what was hidden behind that mask.

I must see you."

With her last ounce of courage, she reached out and grabbed
the mask, ripping it from his face. Her screams of horror echoed
around the lake and through the cellars of the Opera.
Remembering her Angels words, she was shocked to find
herself awakening alone in her dressing room. It seemed like an
eternity since her last ghastly memory.
Leaving Christines dressing room, the saddened creature held
a small piece of gold tightly in his hand. He returned to his home
beneath the ground before his anger became stronger than his
love.

The Angel of Music

he Viscount Raoul de Chagny had tried to visit Christine many

times since the night she had ignored him in her dressing

room, but she continued to refuse to see him. She had recovered
with difficulty from her horrific experience beneath the Opera
and was now too upset to respond to the young mans requests.
Just when Raoul had nearly given up hope, he received a letter
from her in which she said:

M onsieur,
I have n ot forg otten the little boy w ho w ent into
the sea to get my scarf. Soon I am goin g to Perros.
My fa th e r is b u ried there a t the little chu rch w here
you a n d I u sed to p la y w hen we w ere children ,
a n d w here we sa id g ood by e f o r the last tim e. C om e
to P erros i f y ou wish to see m e.
C hristine

Raoul was overjoyed and confused at the same time. Why

would she pretend not to know him, and then send him a letter
inviting him to visit her? There was only one way to find out. He
would accept her invitation.
Christine visited her dressing room at the Opera House to
collect a few things for her trip, but before she could go out of
the door a voice full of pain and suffering rang out from the walls.

Christine, where are you going?

She stopped at once, not wishing to upset him. When he spoke
in that tone, it alarmed her and she responded softly,
Its the anniversary of my dear fathers death. Im taking the
train to Perros to visit his grave.
Are ybu travelling alohe?
Christine could not lie. It was not in her character to do so.
But it was more than that. He would know. She could hide nothing
from him.

The Viscount Raoul de Chagny is planning to visit me there.

Hes been a good and respected friend of my familys since our
childhood, and he wishes to pay his respects to my fathers memory.
I wont hear of it! You may reject my ugliness, but you cannot
stop me from loving you. I warned you not to touch my mask,
but you insisted on seeing my face. Now we shall never be apart.
I shall be your shadow until death parts us. You will never be
alone with another man!
Christines heart sank, but she replied,
/

I shall not betray you.

As Raoul sat in his compartment on the express train to Perros,

the city of Paris faded from sight and visions of Christines life
filled his memory.
As a young child, she had lived with her parents near the city
of Uppsala in Sweden. Her father often amused himself by playing
the violin, his favourite pastime. After the death of Christines
mother, M Daae decided they would move on with their lives in
a new place, and he would make a career of his music. During a
concert, a music professor named Valerius and his wife heard M
Daae play.They were impressed by his musical skill and took him

and Christine with them to France, hoping to help him professionally.

At the seaside village of Perros, where they settled, he spent endless
days on the beach playing the violin, while Christine sang to his
music. Even as a child, she had a beautiful voice and many thought
she would become a great star.
One summer day at the beach, a strong wind blew Christines
scarf into the sea. She heard an unfamiliar voice shouting,
Dont worry, Ill get it!
Then she saw a little boy running into the water. It was Raoul,
the Viscount de Chagny. From that moment on, she and Raoul
were constant companions.
M Daae enjoyed telling stories to Raoul and Christine and there
was one in particular that Raoul would remember for the rest of
his life: the story of the Angel of Music.
M Daae asked Raoul,
Have you ever heard the Angel of Music sing?
The boy shook his head.
Well, my boy, if you do, youll know it. His voice is so beautiful,
only an angel could possess it. He blesses the gifted so they may
share with the world a perfect voice, or play such wonderful music
it could come only from Heaven.
How does the Angel find you?
When someone you love passes into Heaven, he may ask the
Angel to bless you with the gift of perfect music, and I shall ask
him to bless my dear daughter when I leave this life. Just remember
one thing: if you wish to be blessed by the Angel, he will ask you
for something in return, and its always something precious. You
must prove your devotion by granting the Angel his request and
you must never reveal the secret of your gift.

Raoul did not understand and M Daae was amused by the

boys innocence. Christine understood, though, and she would
give anything to have a perfect voice.
Professor Valerius died that summer, but Christine and her
father continued to live with Mme Valerius, playing and singing
$

for h^r every day. Christine and Raoul spent many summers
together in Perros until they were grown up. Raoul then went to
university and Christine attended music school.
With tears in his eyes at the end of their last summer together,
Raoul exclaimed,
My darling, Ill never forget you!
At the Opera, when he saw Christine again after their years
apart, he remembered all the wonderful times they had shared
in the village, and how much he still loved her.
Raoul reached Perros just as it was getting dark. When he
arrived at the old village inn, Christine was waiting for him at a
table in the hall. She looked more beautiful than ever.
Raoul was pleased to see her, but he also needed answers to
his questions.
Christine, why did you reject me when I came to your dressing
room at the Opera?
She was silent. Raoul became very serious.
Theres another man, isnt there?
What are you saying, Raoul?
The man in your dressing room - I heard his voice!
Christine gripped his arm.
You were listening!

When Raoul tried to take her hand, she pulled away and ran
to her room.
Much later, Raoul heard footsteps passing his door. When he
looked out, he saw Christine walking down the corridor towards
the stairs, as if she was hypnotised. Where was she going in the
middle of the night? He decided to follow her; he had to find out.
If there was another man, Raoul would confront him.
Raoul followed in the pale moonlight as Christine walked
towards the sea and entered the old churchyard where they had
played as children among the gravestones. As she glided past the
church in the eerie light, he thought he saw her disappear and
was beginning to panic when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He
turned around so quickly he nearly lost his balance.Then he saw
her standing there, pale and sad in the moonlight.
Raoul, I have something to tell you. Do you remember the
story my father used to tell us when we were children? The one
about the Angel of Music?
He remembered the strange story only too well.
Raoul, the Angel has visited me.
What do you mean?
The voice you heard in my dressing room belongs to him.
He teaches me there. It is he who has given me this voice.
You really believe in this Angel, dont you?
My father has sent him to me.
And what has your Angel asked of you in return?
Christine did not reply. She was hurt that Raoul could doubt
her. As she turned and ran away, Raoul tried to follow, but she
shouted to him,
You must leave me alone - you dont understand!

As if to protect Christine, a tall black figure suddenly shot up

in front of Raoul, blocking his way. He froze, terrified. When he
found the courage to reach out and touch it, the figure pulled
back the hood of its cloak and Raoul looked into the face of
death.
>

.?>

The next morning, the Viscount was found by a priest outside

the church, half-frozen, more dead than alive, and barely able to
remember what had happened. After asking Raoul where he had
come from, the priest took him back to the old inn. Christine had
already returned to Paris without a word.

The Phantom Strikes!

aving returned to the familiar surroundings of the Opera,

Christine continued to avoid contact with Raoul. She received

her lessons every day from the Angel, and every night she left the
glittering lights of the stage wondering when she would be whisked
away again and imprisoned in the darkness of his underground
hideaway She was sickened at the thought of his horrific face,
but could do nothing if she were to protect Raoul from his jealous
anger.
Raoul, too, had returned to Paris and was still searching for
answers. He was troubled by Christines behaviour and wanted
to know what had nearly frightened him to death in Perros.
Moncharmin and Richard, meanwhile, were now occupied with
their own investigation into the events in Box 5. Strange things
were happening elsewhere in the Opera, too. Weird shadowy
figures appeared in the theatre, then seemed to disappear into
thin air; lights flickered on and off and scenery was raised and
lowered mysteriously.
Talk of the Phantom was now starting to spread outside the
Opera and patrons were nervously staying away. To ease the fears
of their customers, the managers decided to sit in Box 5 themselves
for the next performance. They would get to the bottom of this
Phantom business and prove it was nothing but rubbish.
Carlotta had recovered from her illness and was expected to
sing in her usual role, but it became obvious that someone was
displeased when Moncharmin and Richard received yet another
letter on the morning of her return performance:

My Dear MMoncharmin and MRichard,

If you want to avoid war, here are my conditions:
1. Return Pox 5 to me immediately.
2. Christine wiM ofay the -Pead in tonights
* performance. (Cariotta wi-M be iM).
3. You mast give Mme Giry her job back.
If you do not meet my terms, tonights performance
wi-M be cursed.
Pe warned.
The Phantom
Richard pounded his fist on the desk.
Thats it! We shall not give in to this ridiculous creatures
demands!
Carlotta, too, got a note that morning - one that sent a cold
shiver down her spine:

If you sing at the Opera tonight, you wi-Mwish you

were dead!
The Phantom

Thinking Christine must be plotting to take her role for the

rest of the season, Carlotta decided on a plan of her own. She
asked all her friends to come to the Opera that night to cheer
and applaud her, so that everyone would think she was the more
popular of the two performers. That night there was not an empty
seat in the Opera.

Chapter 5

Moncharmin and Richard settled into box 5 to enjoy the

performance. Carlotta was superb and Christine had returned to
sing in the chorus. She could see Raoul in his private box. It was
as close as she could be to him under her Angels watchful eye.
Suddenly, as Carlotta was singing the most beautiful song in the
opera, the scenery behind her began to rise and fall out of control, sending stagehands and scene changers running for the ropes to
bring it back into place. Before they could act, a mountain of wood,
canvas and paint smashed onto the stage, just inches from Carlotta.
The shocked singer fainted and had to be carried from the
stage. Almost immediately, when it seemed that nothing more
dreadful could happen, a horrendous cracking sound was heard
coming from the highest point in the auditorium. Then, as all
eyes looked up to the ceiling, the thousand glistening lights of
the great crystal chandelier crashed down into the audience,
plunging the Opera into near darkness!
Everyone flew into a panic and the police arrived, searching
everywhere for the managers. At the same time, a dark cloaked
figure holding a fragile young form swept across the stage on a
rope and disappeared into the wings.
The Phantom!
Moncharmin and Richard were beside themselves with fear
and frustration. Not only were they frightened into giving Mme
Giry back her job that very night, they also stopped laughing at
the Phantom.
Christine did not struggle when she realised who had snatched
her from the darkened stage. She recognised his bony grasp and
knew it would be useless. Once again, she crossed from the outer
world of the living into his world. She thought sadly of Raoul.

During the next few days, Raoul searched everywhere for her.
He then remembered Mme Valerius. When he called at her little
flat, a maid showed him to the elderly woman.
Madame, I cannot find Christine; she has disappeared. Ive
looked everywhere. Do you know where she is? Please, I am
desperate!'- *
Mme Valeriuss kind expression became serious.
Shes with the Angel of Music, my friend.
Raoul could hardly believe what he was hearing, but let the
dear old woman continue. Mme Valerius put a finger to her lips
and spoke in a whisper.
What Im going to tell you, you can never repeat. Im telling
you only because I know how much Christine cares for you.
Raoul, you and Christine can never be together.
But why?
The Angel of Music would never allow it. She belongs to him.
He is her teacher, her companion, her master. Each night at the
Opera, when hardly a soul is left, she has her singing lessons with
the Angel. Without his blessing, her voice would not have become
so perfect. It was her greatest dream, but a tragic one for both of
you.
Raoul was furious. Who was this Angel of Music and why was
he controlling Christine?
Distressed by his younger brothers suffering, the Count, too,
did his best to discourage Raouls relationship with Christine. He
told him he had seen her in a carriage with another man, hoping
that it would put him off. His plan failed, however, when Raoul
raced to the Opera determined to find her. He waited, night after
night, in the freezing cold outside, longing to see his beautiful

Christine. At last his patience was rewarded. Late one night, he

saw a beautiful face looking out of a carriage window.
Christine!
He called out to her, but she only turned her head away as
the carriage drove off into the night. As it pulled away, Raoul saw
a note fall to the ground.

My D ear R aoul,
P lease d o n ot try to see m e a g a in . You
m ust fo rg et m e o r w e sh a ll both b e in
terrible danger.
C hristine
After a fortnight, no one had seen Christine, but Raoul was
sure she was somewhere close by. Again he waited, hidden in
the shadows outside her dressing room. At last he saw her slip
quietly inside.Through a crack in the door he watched and listened.
Her words startled him.
Erik! Erik, are you there?
Raouls entire body tensed. He saw Christine with her arms
stretched out towards the mirror in front of her.
Erik! Im waiting for you.
As she walked towards the mirror, its surface began to shimmer
like sunshine on a lake. Then, suddenly, in a blinding flash of
light, she was gone. How and why did she keep disappearing?
Raoul had lost her once more, but now at least he had a clue to
the identity of the Angel - the name Erik.
Christine stumbled in the dark, but Eriks bony hands caught
her before she could fall. She didnt want him to touch her, but

knew that she could not refuse to go with him or Raoul would
be in danger. As they descended into the gloomy dampness of
the cellars and rowed across the lake, Christine was silent. When
they entered his house, he spoke softly to her.
Youve been loyal to me, Christine, and I can no longer keep
this from you. I am not your Angel of Music, but I am the one
they call the Phantom of the Opera!
Christine was horrified. It was more than she could stand.
Come, my dear. Let me show you the rest of my world. Please
think of this house as your home, my love. It is yours to share
with me - as my wife!
Erik grasped her trembling hand and placed a gold ring on it.
I beg you, Christine, never let this ring leave your finger.
Christine felt sick, but she knew she must promise this to him
if she were to protect Raoul.
As Erik walked her through the gloomy house, she was nearly
overcome by the heavy atmosphere and musty smell. Dark oversized
furniture of carved wood and red velvet filled the rooms, and dozens
of candles provided the only light.There were no mirrors, no windows.
The touch of his horrible hand on hers made her feel even
sicker, and she feared she could not remain in that awful place
one more minute. At last she found the courage to plead,
Erik, may I beg you to take your kindness one step further?
Im feeling quite overwhelmed by all this. Could you find it in
your heart to allow me a short time with Mme Valerius to recover
my strength?
His terrible gaze met her soft blue eyes and the strange part
of him that loved her responded,
Very well, my dear, this once. But dont become too accustomed
to such outings.

The Ring
After searching for Christine for days, Raoul again turned to

Mme Valerius for help.To his great relief, when he arrived at

her flat, Christine was sitting beside her.

Christine! Thank heavens youre safe!
She was still weak from her experience and did not speak.
Instead, the elderly lady warned,
Raoul, Im happy to see you, but youre getting involved in
something very dangerous. Its a miracle that Christine has been
returned to us safely.
Christine looked at Raoul sadly and said,
Someday I hope I can explain it all to you, Raoul, but this
isnt the time.
I dont understand what is happening, but I shall uncover
the truth.
Then, as the poor girl brushed a tear from her cheek, Raoul
had the shock of his life. She was wearing a gold ring - a wedding
ring! When he tried to grab her hand, she pulled it away and
turned from him. Raoul took her by the shoulders, fearing the
worst.
Christine,you cant be . ..
No, Raoul, it was just a gift.
Who gave it to you? he demanded. Christine did not speak,
but Raoul knew the answer.
The voice in your dressing room! Its from Erik, isnt it?
How could you know? Were you listening there? Raoul, just
knowing his name is dangerous.

--------------------- :

Who is this man? Why are you so frightened of him?

r

A look of sadness crossed her face.

I cant tell you, Raoul. Just promise never to come to my

dressing room again unless I send for you.

Raoul tried not to look defeated. But will you?

She held his hands in hers.

Soon, I promise.

Christine did as she had promised and sent Raoul a note asking

him to come to her dressing room after the performance the

following evening.

As he dressed for the evening, Raoul summoned his courage

and practised the words he would say to Christine. He had made

| up his mind: the only way to protect her was to make her his
| wife.They would flee Paris and Erik forever.
>

When they met, Raoul took Christines hand in his and said,

My darling, I have thought and thought. I love you and want

you to be my wife. Ill protect you. Youll never have to be afraid

again! We can leave Paris tonight and go anywhere you like -

even back to Sweden, if you wish.

I cant leave the Opera now, Raoul. Its too soon.

But, why? Please, Christine, I want us to be together.

|
f

j
f
|

Her eyes were full of hope and fear at the same time. Raoul
noticed that she was still wearing the gold ring,
I promised to sing for him again - for him alone. I cannot
break my word.
Raoul was confused.
Trust me, Raoul. We cannot talk of this now.

j
f

An unexplained absence of a few days passed before Raoul

| saw Christine perform again. The audience was delighted with

her performance and Raoul was bursting with pride for her, tnough
he was hurt to see her still wearing the ring. At that moment, as
though someone had read his mind, a voice whispered from the
back of his box,
Shes wearing another mans ring, Raoul.
The Voice laughed like a demon. Raoul turned around quickly
toward the voice, but could see no one.
Do you know where shes been, Raoul? Why dont you ask
Erik? He knows. She belongs to him.
At the end of the performance, now questioning his own sanity,
Raoul went to Christines dressing room. She smiled sadly, Is Raoul
gently touched her cheek.
I heard a voice in my box tonight, but there was no oite |iere!
It said you belong to Erik. Who is this Erik? I demand to kifow!
Before he could continue, she put her finger to hisi lijjs to
silence him. It would not be safe to speak there.Then sheltook
his hand and led him quietly away from danger.
As they moved through the corridors looking for a safe place
to speak, som eone climbed down through one o f the many
trapdoors separating the stage from the cellars below. Christine
froze for an instant.
Why are you afraid, Christine? Why does such mystery surround
everything here?
Christine did not reply, silently pulling him along behind her.
As they climbed the many stairs to the safety of the roof, they
were unaware of a shadowy presence nearby.
Its all right, now. Im sure he cant hear us here.
Christine, please, tell me whats going on.
She sat down, hardly knowing where to begin.

Oh,Raoul,at first I wasnt afraid, because he sang so beautifully.

When I heard the voice, I believed that my prayers had lx en
I

answered - that my father had sent the Angel of Music to me! I

had no idea . ..
She took a deep breath and continued.

Ike made me what I am, Raoul, and Ill always be in his debt.
But) as my father warned me, he wants something in return At
firs! he asked that I sing only for him and I promised. When I
thought he was the Angel, I could accept it. But Raoul, hes not."
fChristine, who is he?
Raoul, hes the Phantom of the Opera! And he wants me for
his wife!
|No! That cannot happen!
What can I do? If I leave him, he will do terrible harm to us
both! That first night when you came to my dressing room, I
knew he could hear us there, so I pretended not to know' you.
He was very strict about my training and allowed me no social
life at all. I was afraid that if he thought we cared for each other,
j

there would be trouble!

In

Raoul was dazed as he listened to Christines story. Suddenly

they heard an awful sound coming from behind them, the moan ing
of something in terrible pain. It echoed through every corner of
the Opera. Christine was petrified.
ftOh, no! Its Erik! Hes heard us!
The echo died away, but Raoul knew there was more than
pain in that tortured voice; there was deep, terrible anger. He
whispered to Christine,
We must leave tonight.
She shook her head sadly.

Well leave, Raoul, but not tonight. Not before I sing for hjm
one last time, my next performance. If I dont, Im afraid of what
he might do. Raoul, he would kill for me!

These words sent a cold shiver down the young mans spine;
Erik was even more dangerous than he had thought. The two
clung to eafch other tightly in the darkness. When they heard an
even more agonising cry, they knew he had heard everything
they had said.
Terrified, they ran through the building, up and down steps
and along the shadowy passageways. Suddenly, a tall dark man
appeared from the darkness.
Quickly! Go the other way!" he warned. Christine pulled Raoul
back.
Its the Persian.
When they reached Christines dressing room, Raoul tried |tol
compose himself.
Why must you sing again for Erik?
I gave him my word. I cant go back on it now - Im afraid
hell kill us both"
Suddenly she turned pale and cried out,
Oh, no! Raoul!
What is it? Whats wrong?
The ring! Its gone!
Christine looked at her hand in terror.
Hell never forgive me! I promised I would never take it off!
Oh, what will happen to us now?
Raoul tried to comfort her and begged her to leave with him
immediately, but she pulled herself together and said,
Please, Raoul, you must be patient. Not before tomorrow. Wigll
leave after my next performance, I promise.

On the roof, a moaning heartbroken shadow stepped out from

the darkness. He bent down and picked up the small gleaming
piece of gold that had slipped off the delicate finger of the onl>
woman he would ever love. Erik wept.

Journey o f Terror
adly shaken, Raoul and Christine left the Opera. When he had

seen Christine safely to her flat, he went home, too weak

>

even to undress. He was drained of emotion and simply lay on

his bed, trying to make sense of his life. In the dark early morning
hours he woke up to see two blazing eyes staring at him through
the window. He sat up quickly, pale with fright.
/

Erik! Is that you, you evil beastT

Raoul remembered Christines words.'He would kill for me.When
the eyes appeared to float towards him, he took a gun he kept under
his bed and, trying desperately not to shake, shot straight at them.
All his servants ran into the room, but found nothing inside
or outside. Raoul went to the window and saw that the bullet had
gone right through the glass.Then, he saw blood on the balcony.
Hah! A phantom that bleeds ... less dangerous than one that
doesnt!
Woken by the clatter, and thoroughly distressed, the Count
entered Raouls room.
Have you gone mad?
No, but I must find that madman!
What are you talking about? In the middle of the night?
You wouldnt understand.

Raoul spent most of the next day planning his departure with
Christine. He prepared a carriage for their escape and left it outside
the Opera.They would flee Paris, the Opera and Erik immediately
after the performance.

Christine was nervous that night, but was singing superbly,

when suddenly the Opera was plunged into darkness. For several
minutes, the building was in a state of panic and confusion. When
the lamps were relit, the dancers and actors were still on stage but the jvorst that could have happened had happened - Christine
had vanished again!
Raouls heart sank. He stood up as tall as he could, hoping to
see her in the crowd, but it was useless.
As he hurried from his box, stagehands were trying to understand
what had happened. They began to inspect the areas surrounding
the stage and one was heard shouting,
Blood! Look, theres blood over here!
Raoul pushed his way through the crowds of frightened patrons
and perform ers, searching for Christine. He knew Erik was
responsible for this. He had to act quickly.
He raced through the Opera, searching everywhere. Finally, in
Christines dressing room, he collapsed in her chair.
Oh Christine! Where are you? I cant take any more!
Tears came to his eyes when he saw the clothes that she had
put out to wear that night when they left. Now she was gone
again and in his frustration and pain he cried,
Give her back to me, Erik! You beast, you evil creature, give
her back!
Suddenly Raoul was aware of someone elses presence in the
room.
Erik is very dangerous,said a deep, almost familiar voice.Do
not get involved!
Raoul jumped up quickly to see the Persian standing in front
of him, but before he could respond, the mysterious visitor slipped
out of the room and was gone. Raoul slumped back into Christines

chair and, with horror and pain, he saw on the floor in front of
him the unthinkable, blood!
Oh, Christine, what has he done to you?
Raoul was not in a condition to think clearly and his senses
escaped him as he touched his finger to the blood on the floor,
heartbroken and longing for Christine.
Under increasing public pressure, Moncharmin and Richard
requested the services of the Chief Inspector of Police, Monsieur
Mifroid. Christines admirers wanted to know what had happened
to their beloved soprano and the managers had to prove quickly
that they were regaining control of the Opera.
Inspector Mifroid was a short stocky man with a bald head
and a black moustache. He wore a wrinkled dark grey suit that
made him look quite ordinary. He did, however, have a good

reputation for solving crimes, and Moncharmin and Richard hoped

that he would get to the bottom of this Phantom business.
When Raoul heard that the inspector was asking questions
about the recent events at the Opera, he decided to speak to him
about Christine.
Monsieur Mifroid, please help me. Christine Daae is in danger
and Im afraid something terrible will happen to her. You must v
help me find her! Shes been kidnapped by the Angel of Music, \/
but he is actually the Phantom of The Opera! His name is Erik
and he lives under the Opera House, in his own secret kingdom.
Mifroid thought the young man was completely mad, but as
it was his job to gather all the information he could, he replied,
I see. Do go on.
Sometimes hes just a voice without a body and at other times,
he appears and then disappears into thin air!

Mifroid was becoming irritated.

Sir, do you think the police are stupid?
Of course not! But, you must believe me! I saw him.
The Inspector frowned, doubting the truth of such a tale.Then
Raoul told him the story of his journey to Perros and the terrible
fright he had in the churchyard.
Very well, sir. Ill take all this into consideration.
The inspector clearly did not believe him and Raoul knew it.
If the police would not help him find Christine, he would do it
himself. As he ran from the room and flew down the stairs, the
Persian appeared out of nowhere, blocking his way. He stared
straight at Raoul.
Where do you think youre going?
Christine is in great danger and I must find her! I found blood
in her dressing room!
The Persian frowned.
Are you sure the blood is hers?
Raoul was finally shaken back into his right mind.
Of course, thats it! The gunshot! The blood must be Eriks!
Now hes trying to keep us from leaving Paris tonight. I must find
her ...
I told you before, Erik is very dangerous. You cannot go after
Christine yourself. You dont know the way and you could be
killed.
But when he saw the desperation in Raouls eyes, he decided
to help the pitiful young man.
Come, I will take you there myself. I warn you, however, if he
discovers us, he will kill us both.
The Persian led the way, stopping to collect two pistols and a
lantern from a small storeroom.

Now, take this pistol and hold it high in front of you.

Raoul did as he was told.Then, to his surprise, the Persian led
him back to Christines dressing room. He climbed onto a chair,
searching for something high on the wall.
Theres a switch somewhere that opens this mirror. Its a door
that leads to an underground passage. It will take us to the lake
near his house. Here, Ive found it! the Persian said, pressing a
button.
The mirror began to turn. Raoul now understood what had
happened when he saw Christine disappear there before.
Quickly, this way, said the Persian, and they entered the dim
passageway that led to the secret world of the Phantom.
The lantern gave off a faint ray of light above their heads,
making the Persians face look almost ghostly. He came close to
Raoul and whispered,
Follow me and do exactly as I say.
In the gloomy light, they made their way through the narrow
passages of the cellars.
Suddenly, they thought they heard som eone coming. The
Persian quickly covered the lantern.
Quickly! Hold your pistol in front of you!
They waited, hardly breathing, but saw nothing. The underground
cellars were full of sudden noises to startle an unsuspecting visitor.
They were also full of things that seemed to come out of nowhere.
Just then Raoul tripped over one of them. To his horror, it was a
body!
The Persian lowered his lantern to the floor and they could
see the feet, and then the face, of some poor victim who had
doubtlessly met with Eriks displeasure.

A closer look revealed that the body belonged to M Fournier,

one of the gas men. When a nudge from the Persians foot produced
no living response, the two men made their way quickly around
a corner, relieved to find the next passageway clear.
As they crept deeper into the cellars, Raoul became more and
,>

i '

more anxious. Even the Persian was uneasy as they approached

the lake.
Once they had reached the fifth cellar, they were confronted
by a new horror: a face of fire floated towards them, at the height
of a mans head, with no body attached to it! Terror-stricken, they
fled through the passageway, but the burning face followed them,
coming closer and closer.
Then they became aware of a sound so awful it sent shivers
through them from head to toe. A horrible sound like claws
scratching across a blackboard seemed to move with the face,
and continued to chase them until it was upon them. Raoul and
the Persian flattened themselves against the wall, waiting for a
dreadful end to follow. The unbearable scratching and scraping
became little rushes of sound that scampered over their feet and
up their legs - rats!
Im the rat catcher,the face of fire said matter-of-factly.Kindly
let me pass.
He rushed on, just doing his job, holding his lantern so closely
in front of his face that its fire had distorted his features and
blocked the rest of his body from view. Raoul and the Persian
slumped against the wall, shaking with fright. It was several minutes
before they could regain enough courage to continue.

Erik's Story
A re we close to Eriks house yet? Raoul asked. Yes, but we
/ i m u s t find the wall on this side of the water that forms part
of his house. Erik created many false entrances and exits down

here so that he can move about unseen or disappear in an instant.

As I recall, we can get in through one of them from over there.
They continued on, feeling around in the near dark for the
wall. Eventually, the Persian pressed a stone sticking out from the
wall - that was it! A small door slid open in the wall and they
crawled through to the other side, making their way slowly and
cautiously. Finally, they reached a trapdoor in the floor. The Persian
opened it carefully and shone his lantern into the darkness below.
Well have to jump down here. Its not too deep. Ill go first.
Here, take the lantern.
Raoul heard a loud thud as the Persian landed on the floor. He
passed the lantern to him, then dropped down himself. When the
Persian shone the light around the room they discovered that the
walls of the room were full of mirrors - hundreds and hundreds of
mirrors! Raoul was dazzled by the display of flickering lights and
images the mirrors created.
Where are we?
This looks like one of his torture chambers,the Persian said.
Raoul shuddered.
What do you mean?
Erik knows a lot about architecture and he actually helped
build this Opera House. At the same time, he created this underground
world for himself. I recognise his work, especially the trapdoors.

<

The room was empty apart from a metal rack in one corner and
a piece of rope on the ground next to it.The only way out appeared
to be through the trapdoor above them. The Persian walked over
to the rope and picked it up, thinking to himself,
Poor Buquet; he died because he just knew too much.
How do you know Erilr so well? Raoul asked the Persian.
I met him a long time ago. He is a complicated creature, sir,
and evil. He knows no difference between right and wrong.
Raoul wanted to know more about the beast that was controlling
Christine and begged the Persian to tell him everything. His companion
hesitated, but decided they needed a rest before moving on and
so he began to reveal the story of the Phantom of the Opera.
I met Erik many years ago when he was just a young lad. I was
Chief of Police in Persia at the time, visiting France on holiday. I was
attending a circus in the countryside one day when I was attracted
to a voice, singing like nothing Id ever heard before. A huge crowd
was listening. Fascinated by this heavenly sound, I pushed my way
through to see who was singing. When I saw his terrible face I was
horrified.What made things worse, the curious onlookers who paid
to stare at his deformity treated him as nothing more than a freak.
I learnt from someone in the crowd that he had run away from
home to escape the misery of his ugliness and had found some
comfort and acceptance in the circus, amongst the other poor
unwanted souls there.
He was once a brilliant lad with the ambition of becoming an
architect, when a gas lamp, knocked over one night in the barn
where he was studying, put an end to his dream. He was helplessly
trapped in the terrible fire until his face was burnt beyond repair
and his life was changed forever. The scars on the outside, however,
were not as deep as those on Eriks heart and soul. Its what turned

him into a madman, determined to destroy everything around him.

His mother forced him to wear a mask to conceal his deformity;
she couldnt bear to look at her own son or to kiss his poor face.
She hid from the stares of others and turned her ears away from
their heartless remarks. It was her rejection that finally drove him to
leave home. When he told me about his pathetic existence after the
fire, I wondered if it would have been better if he had not survived.
The circus served him well, though. He was able to develop
the beautiful singing voice that drew Christine into his dark,
dreadful world. He learnt to throw his voice in different directions
so that no one could tell where it came from, and to perform
skilful magic tricks which he later used to frighten and confuse
everyone at the Opera.
I returned to the circus many times to hear him sing and, after
a while, we became friends. I convinced him to return with me
to Persia. I hoped that it was not too late to prevent the scorn of
society from turning him against the world. I pitied him, but I
didnt know then what wickedness already lay in his heart. Perhaps
I was a fool.
In Persia, I introduced him to the Shah, the ruler of the country,
who I knew well. He found Erik fascinating and helped him turn
his interest in architecture into practical skill by having him work
with his own builders to construct a palace full of secret chambers.
It was Eriks genius that created a torture chamber, just like this
one. When the palace was completed, the Shah had all the builders
killed so that its secrets could never be revealed. Erik was supposed
to be killed, too, but I felt responsible for him, so I helped him escape.
We returned to France together, but then he disappeared without
a trace.When I learnt that one of the architects of the Opera House
was living there, I thought it might be Erik and decided to find him.

Sure enough, while he was working on the foundations of the

Opera, he created his own private kingdom here, within the cellars.
This is where he now lives, hidden and protected from the cruel
world outside. He has long wanted revenge for the misery others
have caused him, and now he doesnt care who suffers for his pain.
And so here we are - trapped in this torture chamber at the mercy
of a madman! My greatest fear now is that he may find us before we
find him. We must find Christine and get out before its too late!
Before Raoul could say anything, they were startled by a distant
voice. As it grew louder, he saw sweat break out on the Persians
face. It was Erik.
You must choose, Christine, between a wedding and a funeral!
They could not make out Christines reply, as she was sobbing
uncontrollably. When they heard his voice again, it was harsh.
Why are you crying? Am I so terrible? All I want is to be loved.
Is that too much to ask? I am already suffering terribly for you!Look at me!
The Persian and Raoul looked around, desperately trying to find
a way to reach Christine. As they kicked at the mirrored walls, searching
for an opening, they aroused Eriks attention - and his anger.
What fool has entered my kingdom? he roared. Let me give
you the warm welcome you deserve, one youll never forget -

if

you ever live to tell the tale!

Suddenly, hundreds of fiery lights filled the chamber and the
damp cold of the room gave way to intense heat. Christine could
only weep,
Erik ... please ... stop!

The Torture Cham ber

he Persian was right; the room was indeed a torture chamber.

Soon it became as hot as an oven. The heat was unbearable

and Raoul and the Persian could hardly breathe.

The Persian moaned,
No wonder poor Buquet is dead! Rather than roast like a lamb
on the spit, he hanged himself from that rack in desperation.
They had to find a way out, but the trapdoor above had shut
behind them. Their throats were on fire and Raoul was crying out,
Water! Water! Well die of thirst!
The two men were fainting from the heat, so intense now that
it felt as if they were being burnt alive! They collapsed on the
floor, overcome by it. As the Persian frantically searched for a way
out, a tiny black spot on the floor, no bigger than the head of a
nail, caught his eye.
With all the strength he had left in his body, he pressed it and
another trapdoor opened in the floor. Cool air rushed in from the
blackness below. They jumped through the trapdoor, neither
thinking nor caring about what they were falling into. Luckily, the
drop was short and they found themselves in a low cellar. When
their eyes adjusted to the dark, they saw that they were surrounded
by barrels. Could they be water barrels?Their throats were parched
and they longed for cool water.
Barrels! Barrels!sang a voice. It was not their imagination. It
was Erik. He was everywhere!
Raoul approached the barrels and slowly pulled a stopper out
of one of them, hoping to find water, but only a small cloud of
black dust emerged. Gunpowder! What was this madman planning?

Erik had given Christine till eleven o clock that night to decide
if she would marry him and time was running out. Many lives
were at stake as Raoul and the Persian searched the cellar for a
way to escape.They found nothing.
Faced with the possibility of death in this miserable cellar, they
climbed back through the trapdoor into the torture chamber above.
The lights were now out and the air was cool enough for them
to breathe. They heard Eriks voice coming from the next room.
You have five minutes to decide if you will be my wife,
Christine. Take this key and open that box on the table - my little
box of life and death. Inside it youll find two handles attached
to a little invention of mine. One handle is shaped like a scorpion
and the other like a grasshopper. If you turn the scorpion, Ill
know that your answer is yes. If you turn the grasshopper...
His evil laugh rang around the room.
The fate of everyone here and in the Opera above is in your
lovely hands.
Of course! exclaimed the Persian. The gunpowder!
Everything became clear now. Erik was planning to set off an
explosion that would bring down the Opera House. Everyone
and everything would be reduced to ashes if Christine did not
marry him.
You have two minutes left to decide, Christine. Remember, a
wedding or a funeral.
Christine was terrified.
Erik, please! I dont want to hurt anyone.
Her tears, and the pain in her voice, suddenly sent a wave of
self-pity through Erik. He knew that Christine did not love him;
he knew he was alone. And now, with the pain of his wound, he
was too weak to go on.

If you loved me, Christine, you would not be afraid. You would
not hesitate. You cant bear to stay with me and I cant go on
without you. Make your choice. It doesnt matter any more.
Raoul and the Persian could hear each others hearts pounding
as they waited for Christine to move. Had Erik given up? Would
he set them free? If there was an explosion, at least he would die
and there would be an end to his madness. He would never hurt
anyone again.The passing seconds felt like hours. Waiting, absolutely
still, waiting to be buried alive or to be freed.
Suddenly their hearts jumped into their throats as they heard
a terrible crack beneath their feet. But there was no explosion,
only the sound o f ... running water!They were saved! But, no, the
water rose quickly, soon reaching the waists of the terrified
prisoners. Were they saved from the explosion, only to drown in
the cellars of the Opera? The Persian called out,
Erik, Christine!
There was only silence. He tried one last time.
Erik! Have you forgotten that I once saved your life? Dont you
remember that I rescued you from the Shah? You would be dead
now if it hadnt been for me! Please, Erik, have mercy, dont do this!
There was no reply and the water continued to rise.The only
way out was the trapdoor and they could not reach it.They were
drowning - saved from one death only to be faced with another!
As the water covered them and they began to lose consciousness,
Raoul and the Persian heard a mad, distant voice singing,
Barrels! Barrels! Barrels!
The Persians last thought was that death would now be
welcome.Then ...darkness.

The Last Promise

hristine rushed to Erik and begged him to stop the insanity.

She knew now that she had to. agree to be his wife or Raoul

and the Persian would die. She knew she had to sacrifice everything
if her true love were to live. She had no choice, she had to do it.
It was almost too late when she took his arm and looked into his
hollow, haunted eyes.
Erik, please have mercy on them! If you do, if you save
them, Ill be your wife! Ill stay with you and well sing together
day and night.
She could not control her tears and her hold on his arm
tightened.
Please, Erik, I beg you!
He returned her gaze.
Will you, my darling? Will you stay with me forever?
Yes, Erik, I promise.
And with those terrible words she gathered more courage
than she could imagine and kissed him on his dreadful
forehead. Her tears swept across his face and he, too, wept.
A few days later, after the terrible events in the torture
chamber, the Persian woke up, surprised to find himself in his
own flat. Slowly he realised he was not alone in the room. A
tall pale figure swayed nearby. Erik was weak and could barely
speak or walk. His cloak was wet with blood and he held his
chest tightly.
You will be fine, my old companion. It is I who am dying.

Pity did not enter the mind of the Persian, who could
remember only the torture he had suffered at the hands of this
madman.
What have you done with the Viscount and Christine? Where
are they?
Eriks mind was clouded with pain.
Love is my killer, old friend. The Viscounts bullet pierced
only my body. Now love has pierced my soul and I can leave
this world in peace. She kissed me, old friend. She kissed me
and promised to be my wife!
Where are they? the Persian insisted.
I have released the girl. She is safe with Mme Valerius and I
have returned the young man to his home. See that they find
each other."
Erik dragged himself slowly towards the door. As he left, he
put on his mask before stepping into a waiting carriage in the
street. The Persian never saw him again, nor did he hear the faint
voice say to the driver,
Take me to the Opera.
Some days later, a black evening cloak was found by a
dresser, neatly folded and lying at the foot of a mirror in a
dressing room at the Paris Opera House. In it were wrapped a
mask and a gold ring, and on top of it lay a note in faint red ink:

dear Christine,
I shd-M

-fove you.

A tall dark figure walked alone along the shore of the

underground

lake

where

an

old

abandoned

boat

lay

overturned. In the dim light of a gas lamp he carried, something

shiny caught his eye. He bent over to look more closely and
picked it up. A bullet! Was this the last trace of the mysterious
legend that had haunted the world above for so many years?
The Opera had been free from strange happenings and
accidents for many years now. Still, in the dark passageways
behind the scenes, a stagehand or scene changer would be
startled by a sudden noise or a fleeting shadow and wonder if
the Phantom had ever really left.
Later, sitting in the window of his flat overlooking the
gardens of Paris, the Persian contemplated the story of the
young boy he had found in a circus sideshow, the boy who
grew up to become a ghost. Would anyone now believe that this
creature had been flesh and blood, that his name was Erik and
that he wanted only to love and be loved? The Persian alone
could tell the story, for he alone knew the details of that
miserable life. So, as the terrible memories returned, he put pen
to paper and began to write ...
7 fe e l it is my duty to inform y o u on the subject o f the o n e
referred to as The P hanto m o f the O pera. As so m eo n e who has
p erso n a l know ledge o f his life a n d times, I ca n say with authority
that this p e rs o n who com m itted so m a n y crim es within the Opera
is now d e a d ...

He continued to write, describing Eriks life in Persia and his

work for the Shah, the design of the Shahs palace with the
secret chambers, and his invention of instruments of torture. He

had learnt well how to use them and it was the perfect training
for his evil deeds at the Opera!
The Persian laid down his pen and considered whether or
not to continue. Would anyone believe such a fantastic tale?
No, he thought.I have cleansed myself now of the terrors of
>

the past. Perhaps Eriks story is better left to the secret chambers
of the Opera cellars.
Years passed before Mme Christine de Chagny was able to
unwrap the old black evening cloak she had kept for so long.
She took one last look at the remains of a part of her life which
was almost too painful to remember and then placed it with the
mask and the gold ring in a mahogany box. She would never
look at them again. Locking the box, she left her old dressing
room and the Paris Opera forever.
A carriage took her from the Rue Scribe through the city
streets to the other side of town. Stopping briefly on the way,
she left the carriage only long enough to throw a small brass
key into the River Seine. She held the mahogany box in her lap
as the carriage entered the Cemetery of Montparnasse.
The poor tormented soul who had changed her life would in
death be remembered with dignity. Mme de Chagny laid to rest
the last tragic evidence of his sorrow and pain. A simple stone
engraved with the words: In m em ory o f Erik, a true lover o f the

O pera now stands among the grander ones of the Parisian

artists and celebrities buried there.The dusty air of Paris sweeps
its surface, but the spirit of Erik is no longer hidden in the
darkness. The compassion and forgiveness of the one he loved
brought him into the light at last.

Late some night in the Paris Opera, when the auditorium has
emptied and the patrons have left their boxes, go and listen
carefully. You just might hear a beautiful voice no longer in
agony, ringing from Box 5 - the voice of the Phantom of the
Opera!
THE END