Work Text:
It seems that my investigation of The Phantom of the Opera has not ended. I regret to inform my readers that The Persian told me the story of the Opera Ghost with altered memories. How did I not think of that? How foolish was I to believe that a 90-what year old man nearing his death would be able to tell me his story with full clarity?
That is why it fell unto me again, to continue the "chase" of this story. The story which now focuses on the former Vicomte Raoul de Chagny, following the death of Christine Daae–who I now shall refer to as Madame de Chagny.
And the means I used to find this information was from M. Raoul de Chagny himself! Who has stepped forward voluntarily (and quite angrily) after reading my inaccurate investigations of the man Erik, who was once the Phantom of the Opera.
The moment the sandy haired gentleman had visited me in my office, he immediately began critisizing my thesis of the Opera ghost. Stating that he (Erik) did not in fact, die of love.
And now, I will tell you the continuation of Raoul de Chagny's story in his own words. And here, I offer you–a verbatim.
*Through the narrative of the former Vicomte de Chagny
Now, I start at the dawn Christine and I fled from the Palais Garnier. I had been woken up by my angel shaking me, telling me "Raoul! We have to leave now–while he hasn't changed his mind!".
I sat there stupefied, still lamenting of what I thought was Christine's decision to marry that vermin Erik so that a quarter of Paris would not be remembered as the victims of a mass explosion.
Immediately without a word, I followed her. For I had promised her that whenever she said the word–I would follow her. Even with bitter regrets, anger and grief–I followed her without a second thought. Though I admit, it was a bad decision of mine to immediately follow her. Looking back at how we lived out the horrors of this situation, it was foolish of me to trust her again that easily. Looking back, now as a senior old man, I understand why she had made those decisions, why she had hidden so much from me.
So I am grateful that my stupid heart continued to follow her. To guard her and to guide her. To
say that I loved (and still do) her. To lead her from her solitude.
So immediately we went to enact the plan I had originally prepared to flee with her to Perros-Guirec. I used up what little money I had in my pocket to fetch a cheap carraige.