Basically, someone requested a slightly more happy-ending book-based one.
So here it is.
It's short, angsty, confusing, but ends 'happily'. Which clearly shows the inherent craziness of this individual.
Random piece of information: The theme for this story (most of my one-shots are the result of the 100 theme challenge on deviant Art) was "Dying". The Theme for the other one-shot which I uploaded a few days ago, was "Smile".
This one is quite a bit more un-depressing than that one. A clear demonstration of the oddness of my mind.
Disclaimer, because I've actually remembered: I don't own Phantom of the Opera, which sucks slightly because if I did I would be rich, and would therefore actually have a half-decent computer. I don't own Susan Kay's book Phantom, because if I did I would have suicided by now. And I don't own the musical (though this isn't musical-based) because if I did, I would be deaf. Chords - gods, the things they do to your ears...
ANYWAY - now that my discourse on why I don't own POTO is finished...
Review, please, and tell me what you think - and most importantly, if it made sense...!
Oh, and readers of Say You Love Me and Light Within; holidays have arrived, meaning that so will updates...
The Monster's Dying
Can you hear the bells ring? They rejoice – for the monster dies. The monster dies along, unloved, an animal-monster too disgusting to be human.
They don't know you're here, you see. But who cares? You die, so everything's fine. The monster's turn it is to die, to avenge those he killed, the lives he destroyed.
She left you here, you know that. Why aren't you angry? Perhaps because you know that letting her go, letting her live was the best – the most noble – deed you'd ever done. And that you will ever do, if you have your way.
You want to destroy the boat, but there's no energy. Nothing for anything but dying. It's all you want, in any case. Death is sleep, which is why you sleep in a coffin. Death is for you. Which is why the monster is dying.
So leave me, girl. Why did you return?
She doesn't answer you.
What do you want, child? I have nothing for you now. Leave me to die in peace. You left me before when I allowed you, so why hesitate now?
You watch her falling tears and listen to her choking words with forced patience. Why does she sit with the dying man? To make you live?
The monster dies, and the bells ring. So rejoice.
Oh, please don't do that – please…
It's at once all your fault and nothing to do with you when she starts to cry.
Her lips touched you, touched the place where none had before, touched yours, why? You're the monster, the murderer, you're dying. Don't let her make you live again.
Yes dear, I'm a monster. Not an angel – a monster. Let the monster die.
Don't let her touch you, fool, or the fire and pain will return again. You need to kill the monster, so you have to die too. You don't want to try again, no. Love won't kill the monster. Reject the foolish girl, that's right; let her go, let her be free, don't let her harm you.
Don't…wait. Listen! Don't dare…how dare you?!
You have to die, you know that! Die! Die with the monster!
Don't stand, don't touch her, don't kiss her!
How dare you still love her?! How dare she love you?!
Let you go? What's this? Foolishness! Human thoughts, normal wishes, you know it won't happen!
But…you feel the chains shattering, don't you…? The chains that bind you to obsession and lust and darkness. You can feel it…
You're going to leave, aren't you? You're going to live, you're going to love. You're meant to die, but you won't. You were meant to die with the monster.
But you don't.
Instead, you look back only once as you leave with her.
As you leave the monster to die alone.
You leave with the girl and I die here, because the darkness and pain and hate is gone now, from you. It's not for the lover, only for the monster. I'm dying alone, but I was you, and you were me, but I can't be you anymore because you're going to live and I'm going to die.
The monster is dying to the sound of ringing bells…
You were right, I suppose, you were right to fight me.
I should congratulate you...Erik.
How was it? If you're confused, don't worry - so am I. Which is slightly sad, because I'm meant to be the author...
Anyway, reviews are appreciated, whether they're nice or harshly critical, or confused, or whatever. I like criticism. As long as its not of my hair. Or the font. Or something like that...
Till I update my chapter fics...