Phantom of the Opera: Part 09 — The Wrath of Shadows
That night, the Paris Opera House was alive with anticipation. A new performance was about to begin—singers and dancers moved beneath glittering lights, while the orchestra thundered so mightily it seemed the very walls might tremble.
Behind the curtain, Christine stood trembling, her face pale with dread. She knew he was watching. He was always watching.
The Phantom would never let her go. And this time, his rage was stronger than ever.
From his seat in the audience, Raoul gazed at the stage with tense eyes. He could feel the unseen danger drawing near, yet he was powerless to stop it.
And then the voice resounded—low, mocking, filled with fury.
A laughter that shook the hall, echoing as if from every corner at once:
“You are all… my prisoners!”
In that instant, the great chandelier above flared with blinding light. The once-proud symbol of the Opera shuddered violently, the groan of straining metal filling the air. Gasps of horror spread through the audience.
And then—time froze.
The massive crystal chandelier tore free from its chains and plummeted. It crashed to the floor with a sound like thunder, shards exploding outward in a storm of shattered glass, raining down like fallen stars.
Screams erupted. Panic consumed the theatre. What had once been a sanctuary of art became a stage of catastrophe.
From the shadows, the Phantom watched, his masked eyes burning with both torment and triumph. He had not only shattered ceilings and chandeliers—he had torn apart every rule, every chain of a world that had rejected him all his life.
To the people, the falling chandelier was a disaster.
But to the Phantom—it was his declaration that he existed.