man, he looks ugly

It took Goethe 64 years to create Faust. This book is like an excellent dream, gently and slowly murdering this genius, absorbing his soul, and turning it into a masterpiece that is astonishing.Charles François Gounod composed music for it, and it became a direct question to the soul in this flashy city and flashy theater.

As the first performance after recovering from illness, I wore a dance skirt with almost no need to tie my waist, and because Christine was going to play the role of Sylbert, the boy who had a crush on Margaret, she needed to wear some waistbands around her waist. Cloth, not so feminine.

As always, we girdle each other and chat briefly before the show.

"Meg, your face is too pale. I'd rather split myself in two and take the stage instead of you."

"Christine, maybe you think I'm crazy, but there is a voice in my heart telling me that even if the devil tells me that my life will end on this stage, I will step on it."

"Oh my god! I have to tell mom!" Christine's eyes widened suddenly.

"Don't be so cruel, we all love her, how can we let her be frightened by us?" I was so anxious that I couldn't help scratching a red mark on the back of her hand.

Christine fell silent, and she looked at me sadly.Those black eyes seemed to hide a timid little elf, thinking that he was hiding his emotions well, but he had already revealed all the secrets in his heart.

Christine and I were walking towards the stage holding hands, and when we passed by Carlotta's dressing room, Remy, the secretary, walked in.

It seems that even the manager is not sure what will happen to Carlotta after going against Eric's wishes.

We met Lute again around the corner, behaving like a luthier who desperately needs quiet before a performance, standing alone in the darkest corner of the kerosene lamp with his back against the wall, his head slightly down, his hands carrying his violin and bow.

"Miss Geary."

He suddenly stopped me.

Christine was taken aback and looked at him in panic.

"I heard that you also like the violin?" Lute raised his head and looked at us with a smile.

"Yes."

"Then you don't want to get your violin back?"

At that moment, I was shuddered by the poisoned dagger hidden in Lute's smile.

"no, thank you."

"Then, what a pity."

Frightened by his too piercing eyes, I couldn't help but take a step back, pinching my fingers tightly.

Lute straightened up, put the violin on his shoulders, and played "Dance of Death".

Scared by his weird and frightening behavior, Christine pulled me and ran away from the corridor quickly.

I turned around and only saw Lute's gentle side face. He was immersed in the music he plucked and couldn't extricate himself.

A quarter of an hour before the performance, the audience entered and took their seats. The two managers sat in Box No. [-] on the second floor. Carlotta clasped his hands and stared at the front with a dignified expression.

Everyone knows the sword of Damocles hanging above their heads, but blinded their eyes, telling themselves that everything is just an illusion.

They tried to convince themselves that the situation could not have been so bad.

They try to tell themselves that worrying will only make things harder.

They tried to reassure themselves that things hadn't gotten out of hand and gone crazy.

The middle class stared numbly at the stage, and the performers nervously adjusted their skirts.

The luthiers took their seats one after another, uncovered the score in front of them, and put their bows on the wool strings.

The nobles arrived in a few places, took off the gloves on their wrists, and held up expensive golden binoculars.

The dark emperor set up his own stage, driving the puppets to appear on the stage one after another.

When the first act came to an end and Margaret hadn't appeared yet, the ghost of the theater would naturally not move.

But backstage, Carlotta suddenly lost control and lost her temper. She asked the stage manager to report to the manager. She felt that there was going to be a plot tonight.

Christine's face was pale and shaky, and such a targeted reprimand almost made her lose the courage to go on stage.

In order not to make Carlotta go too far, to reassure Christine, and to check the situation with my own eyes, I finally made up my mind to walk out from the crowd.

"I'll go with you to find the manager." I walked to the stage manager and covered my costume with a black cloak, "I will only be on stage when the third act begins, now, please allow me to go with you Find a manager and explain the situation clearly."

As I followed the stage manager through the back corridor to the box.

Cheerful singing came from the stage, like drunk music.

"Whether it's wine or beer,

beer or wine,

Please fill my glass! "

The dancers and singers danced in circles in front of the tavern named 'Bakus God', and the leather shoes collided with the floor, making cheerful kicking sounds. This cheerful rhythm drove the lights of the entire corridor to sway.

The stage manager knocked on the door of the box and pushed in. The two managers were pointing to another box on the second floor to discuss something. Seeing me and the stage manager coming in, they asked in unison.

"What happened?"

"Gentlemen, the thing is this, Carlotta suspects that she will be plotted against today." The stage manager rubbed his hands and replied.

"By whom?" Mr. Meng Salman asked anxiously.

"How could such a thing happen?" Richard added in a low voice, frowning.

If I hadn't been with this stage manager, he would have been eager to report Carlotta's speculation to the two managers and pour dirty water on Christine's head.

Unfortunately, I was standing here, and he could only stammer, without explaining the reason for a long time.

On the contrary, the two managers became impatient.

"What happened?" Richard continued to ask.

"Perhaps Carlotta is under too much pressure, after all last time Christine sang Marguerite so well." I added in a low voice, "You should go and have a look, she seems to be in a very unstable mood. "

The two managers looked at each other and stood up at the same time.

The next moment, all the candles in the box were suddenly extinguished.

The light suddenly dimmed.

The box door behind me was also slammed shut by the evil wind.

This is not scientific, at least for the overall layout design of the theater, it is too unreasonable to say that the box door was blown shut by natural wind.

"My God! Ghost!" Richard growled.

"Where is he, where is he?" Monsalman shouted in a panic, looking left and right in the small box with the help of the lights projected from the direction of the stage.

"It's ridiculous." The two managers shouted in unison.

The stage manager, who was far less courageous than the new manager, slammed open the door of the box and ran out of the door, but let out a sigh in the corridor, obviously when he was greatly frightened.

When my manager and I also came to the door, we found that the corridor we had just passed was covered with a kind of dark purple tulips. They were once priceless and became the pets of the living rooms of Parisian nobles, but now they are like cheap flowers. The black obituary signs were scattered all over the floor, and the candles in the corridor were sluggishly lit, hitting these thick and dark petals, shining like cat's-eye jewels.

"My God!" Richard sighed again.

"Who can say that the theater is not cursed?" answered the stage manager hoarsely.

Christine's voice came from the stage. She was supposed to be holding roses and lilacs in Margaret's garden.

"Show him my commitment, with my blessing..."

Christine's voice changed suddenly, it was no longer clear, pure, and slightly trembling, like a stream that suddenly poured countless paints, and it became messy.

"It's you, the one I firmly believe in, please defend me!"

I went back to the box, trying to find the reason for her gaffe.

Following her gaze, I saw Philip in the box on the other side of the stage, and the young man beside him. He was Philip's younger brother, Raul.

The handsome man was covering his face as if crying.

Beside Raul, Philip frowned, biting the cigar in his mouth tightly, his facial muscles tensed to the extreme, he was really angry!He kept looking at Christine in the middle of the field, and glanced at Raul, who was out of control, with an increasingly ugly expression.

I tried to find out the answer, but I was at a loss.

Why is Raul crying?Why is Kristen so out of control?Why is Philip so angry?

There was thunderous applause in the theater as Carlotta's Marguerite entered.

She sang the song of King Dürer contentedly.

An ominous premonition rushed into my soul and flesh, I lifted my cloak and stepped on the purple tulips on the carpet, and rushed to the backstage.

It is impossible for Eric to remain indifferent and watch Carlotta show off.

That's when I ran behind the backstage curtain, pushed through the crowd, and got to the point where I could see the entire front of the theater.

Carlotta was basking in the endless admiration of his singing.

A terrifying voice suddenly resounded throughout the theater.

The audience in the whole theater stood up, including the distinguished guests in the boxes, and the managers supported the railings of the boxes with pale faces.

The most frightening thing is that the person who seems to make this voice is Carlotta.

Her expression was extremely painful, and her eyes were staring straight ahead, as if she had been thrown from the clouds to the ground.

Anyone would rather believe that the voice just now was a devil from hell who interrupted the show with his voice that was worse than a leprous.

But in fact, everyone who was watching Carlotta could clearly hear that weird and terrifying 'croak' just now came from the mouth that was said to be born for harmonious music.

Everyone started whispering, and the whole theater was soaked in an uncomfortable hum.

Carlotta was dumbfounded, and after about five seconds, she looked around helplessly, seeking a little shelter, a little reassurance, or should I say a little affirmation of her.Her fingers curled around her throat.

Finally, under the desperate winking of the manager, he decided to continue singing, and used the next exquisite skills to cover up the terrible mistake just now.

But since the devil has appeared, he will inevitably drag the overwhelmed person to hell.

"I'm listening! . . . "

The whole audience was silent, and they also listened.

"I heard the lonely voice (croak!)

croak! ...in my...quack! "

The whole theater fell into a frantic restlessness.The two short lines of the lyrics made everyone believe that the terrible voice, which was worse than a tortoise, came from Carlotta's throat.

People laughed wildly, booed, and talked a lot.

A husky, terrifying, and alluringly familiar male voice resounded throughout the theater.

"Oh, a woman who is so overwhelmed that even the chandelier is on the verge of falling."

Everyone, including the lost souls, raised their heads and looked overhead.

The huge radiant light at the top of the theater represents the most luxurious crystal chandelier, like the stars torn off by the left hand of God from the sky, like the pendulum hanging from the fingertips of the god of death.

First, it swayed a few times unnaturally on the roof, and then lost control.

Countless crystals screamed before death, they collided, rubbed, and cut.

It was as if Lucifer had fallen from the Holy See with brilliance.

The audience screamed, screamed, and ran for the exit.

Musicians run, climb, away from the stage.

I must be crazy.

Either the blood was ignited, or the sanity was destroyed, or the entire soul was stimulated by the giant light object that fell from the distant sky.

I step by step, to the middle of the stage.

Second by second, it tore through the ceiling.

Like a fateful attraction.

The chandelier might fall on top of my head and smash me to pieces.

Maybe, this is my final ending?

This massacre feast was created by me, so let me bear it.

In hallucinations, I seem to hear Faust stretching out his hands and singing loudly,

"We strive to achieve the good in this world,

The results are fraudulent, deceitful and claim to be better

Happiness is overwhelmed by time vortex again and again,

Dangers that never appeared often make you tremble,

Losses that you will never have always make you cry

You smash a world first,

Then there is a new one,

Just come on!

Let us be poor,

I want to discover everything,

in your nothingness,

war!This is the slogan.

victory!This is the response. "

The deafening singing roared in my ears.

"Meg!"

"Meg!"

"Meg!"

There seem to be too many voices calling my name.

But at that moment, I was unable to distinguish between reality and illusion.

Until a huge force from hell threw me from the edge of the stage to the inside.

Terrible loud noises, countless crystals shattered and exploded, and the impact force was stronger than cannonballs, causing these transparent and sharp fragments, large and small, to attack the stage like violent ice.

It's strange that my hearing can be so sharp and extreme at this moment.

I can hear countless crystal shards like ice needles coming through the air.

Then, most of them rained down on the stage.

The rest are blocked and wrapped by a solid and soft body.

It wasn't until the flames shot up into the sky that I was dizzy and didn't see the black shadow covering my body clearly.

It's Eric.

He wore his ugly black mask as always, and his golden eyes stared at me every second, with a deathly sad expression.

"You choose to punish me with death," he said.

"Eric, you ruined everything."

The raging flames spread from the edge of the stage, ruthlessly devouring the expensive and soft velvet seats, all the scores left behind by the pianist when he fled, and the high-quality wooden stage floor...

This tragedy was only due to Eric's desire to vent his personal dissatisfaction.

I couldn't help but touch that face spurned by the world through the mask.

"Meg... my angel, please, forgive me, I was wrong, I sincerely repent to you, please, please, please forgive my arrogance and narrow-mindedness!"

He wept bitterly, tears pouring wildly from those golden eyes and falling on my forehead, cold as ice.

"A monster in the dark,

Never know the taste of sunshine,

you bring warmth,

but squandered by this monster,

The monster once again wrapped in the darkness of despair,

How can you be content to stay in the abyss?

please,

please,

give me one more chance,

Give this cold-blooded monster another chance. "

"Eric, you ruined everything."

It's strange, in my tone, there is no pain, no reprimand, only the declarative tone used when facing a child who accidentally did something wrong.

Eric cried bitterly, stood up, and retreated slowly.

Behind him, there are monstrous flames, they are about to swallow him.