Unmasking the Phantom – Part 8

Edmée grinned behind her skull mask. She had already gotten part of her plan fulfilled by getting Christine to return to the stage. Now she needed to complete it by getting the managers to perform the opera.

“What a lovely evening!” she bellowed, causing every face to turn to her and the orchestra to come to a screeching halt.

“My dear managers,” she continued. “I have a gift for you! A new, exclusive opera: “Don Juan Triumphant,” starring our own, dear Christine Daaé. Rehearsals will begin immediately with the show premiering one week from today. Should you ignore these directions, I will make all of you sorry you did not listen to the Phantom of the Opera.”

With a swing of her cape and an artfully placed smoke bomb, Edmée opened a secret door, leaving the attendees in shock. She made her way down to her lair to work on the mirrored torture chamber. It had the capability to get both very hot and very cold and was meant to make a man, or woman, go mad.

The next day, the managers were panicking. There was no way they could get everything ready to perform in a week. They had to hire twice as many set and costume designers. Even the performers were rushing to learn their lines.

Christine and Raoul were also panicking. They huddled in the chapel, hoping no one would overhear them. Raoul had not realized that the masked woman he had spoken to at the masquerade ball was the same creature who had captured Christine.

“Raoul, please don’t make me do this. If we give in, she wins. She’ll never stop.”

“But Christine,” Raoul said, taking her hand. “If you perform, she’s guaranteed to be there. We can have the police there to capture her. Once she’s in custody, we’re safe.”

In a secret chamber behind the wall, Edmée heard everything and laughed to herself. Yes, she intended to attend the performance, but she would never be captured. She knew the ins and the outs of the opera house better than anyone else. There were a thousand places for her to hide.

“I love you Raoul,” Christine said, kissing him. “I cannot wait for our son to be born and for all of this to be over.”

The following week, the doors opened to allow the public into the theater to see “Don Juan Triumphant.” Among the attendees were around 25 armed police officers and the chief of police. They were stationed strategically to cover every exit. Well, every known exit.

As the chords struck, Edmée adjusted her mask. Tonight was the night she would exact her revenge. She watched through a hole in the wall as Christine took the stage. She looked so lovely that Edmée could feel herself growing jealous. It was not fair that Christine could have everything and Edmée could have nothing.

Suddenly, Edmée felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned and came face to face with Madame Giry.

“Whatever you’re planning, it won’t work,” the older woman said, crossing her arms.

“Yes, it will,” Edmée replied, glaring at her. “Everything is all set, and not even you can stop me.”

“Edmée, please. Leave them be. They’re about to start a family. Haven’t you any mercy?”

“Mercy?” Edmée growled. “No one has shown me any mercy! I have lived alone my whole life with not one shred of your precious mercy.”

“Was it not mercy when I freed you from the gypsy camp and brought you here?” Madame Giry asked, tears welling in her eyes.

Edmée turned, tears forming in her own eyes. “Just go. This has nothing to do with you.”

The ensuing silence told her that the woman had left. Her attention returned to the show. When the climax rose, Edmée pulled a lever that released a trap door right under Christine’s feet. The girl fell to the empty area beneath the stage. Edmée moved quickly, going to the crying girl and pulling her up by her arms.

“No time for tears, my dear. You have a part to play.” Edmée said, opening a secret door that would lead them down to the lair.