A/N: Hi guys this is my very first phan phic that I'm actually putting out into the public so be very gentle. You may want to read my profile (when and if I get it posted on there) to get an idea of the characters since they tend to stray from themselves
Disclaimer: I do not own anything Phantom of the Opera (cause if I did I would make Erik and Christine together and wouldn't be writing this) A Christmas Carol, or any amazing writing skills.
Pure white snow made crunching noises of every note and tone as it gave way under Erik's rhythmic footsteps. Music, it's everywhere. In the rain, speaking, even in snow. It used to be in me. He walked in a trance like state through the freezing streets of Paris, letting his black cape trail gracefully behind him. The normally gray streets were animated with merry carolers, leaves of holly and mistletoe, happy families, children running amuck, and present shoppers; it was painful for Erik to look at.
You see, seeing all this happiness made Erik think of all the things that had happened to him in the most recent decade of his pitiful existence. It made him think of Christine Daae. How long had it been? Three, maybe four years? Long enough to forget a least
Alas, he could never forget. He could never forget her.
Even the thought of Christine's name sent shivers through his tall body until he actually started to shake. She's bound to be married and happy by now. Erik's straight line of mouth seemed to become even straighter. Isn't that what I wanted of her? For her to be happy? Happy with me…
As the December sun sunk its flawless face down from the skyline of Paris, Erik let out a small sneer. Light shows man what they want to see. I want man to see nothing! Light also marks the dawn of a new day full of bitterness, miser…regret. Back into the darkness I go only to meet the unforgiving sun in the morning! Tomorrow's morning, will be not different for tomorrow is Christmas Day!
Wallowing in his bitterness, he continued to think badly of Christmas, the time when the poorest man felt like a king. Why don't hideous monsters feel beautiful or loved in this time of year? Because none loves a hideous monster! Christmas! Bah, humbug!
A little boy with unusually colored red hair saw Erik walking by. "Bet'cha I could even get that ol' grouch to pay up a couple o' francs!" he bragged to his companions, sticking out his chest in pride. The crowd of boys was happy to see him try, kicked him off, and took a few steps back, just to be safe.
Erik saw the boy coming and let out a sigh of annoyance. I could always say that Satan drags little boys to hell who beg for money…no, no that won't due, I've used that one before. Come now, Erik you can't be losing your touch.
The boy held out a stick in the road, blocking the unresponsaive Erik. Immediately, the boy blue eyes gazed at the half mask that was places neatly on Erik's face.
"H-hi there, mister, fancy a Christmas carol? Only 2 francs." The boy wiped the fear from his eyes and put on a sly, gap-toothed grin.
Erik's eyes became stormy. Swiftly, he snatched away the stick that was blocking his path and snapped it in two with no difficulty. He held the boy by the collar of his shirt and waves the broken stick in front of his freckled face.
The former infamous Phantom of the Opera said dangerously, in just barely a whisper, "This will be your neck, boy, if you or any of your other little friends bother me again. Now, out of my way urchin!" He shoved past the boy leaving him utterly horrified.
Erik cruelly chuckled at the expression he had left the boy with. Erik, you old dog, you've got it.
Finally upon arriving to his flat, Erik swiftly drew a brass key from his black cloak. His skeletal hand froze, and drew away from the lock on the entryway; he had an overpowering, sudden urge to touch his mask. Erik let his gloved hand trace the side of his face. Black leather met white porcelain as thousands of memories. Voice seemed to be ringing in his ears…
Say you'll share with me one love
One lifetime
Say the word and I will follow you
Share each day with me
Each night each morning
Anywhere you go let me go too
That's all I ask of you
Erik's yellow eyes burst open like he had been flung in the face by cold water. "Humbug," his beautiful voice growled in his throat. You've been playing ghost for far too long, Erik. You're starting to scare yourself. Shaking his head for such arrogance, he took his gaze of the snow and back to the door.
The brass door knocker hung there proudly, as it had been since Erik came to live at the miserable, poorly lit flat. It looked aged, worn, and was now completely covered with grime. For the sake of his perfectionism, he deftly took out his best lace handkerchief to give it a good shine.
As soon as it touched the icing metal, the door knocked seemed to be moving? No not moving, changing! Even being a master of illusion and tricking pathetic human minds, Erik held a gasp in his throat and backed away.
Slowly, it transformed itself into a circle. The circle grew eyes, jade green eyes that seemed to be staring him down. A nose appeared, and finally a mouth that opened and uttered only one word from its reedy voice. "Erik," it called.
Erik was rooted to the ground below him as every muscle in his body tensed. He knew that voice, the one which knew him as Erik, one of very few. "Nadir?" The face closed its haunting eyes and faded away.
For a second or two he started at the inanimate door knocker. After a while he let out a very rare chuckle. He tapped it twice as a mock to his second act of foolishness for the day and stepped inside his wintry, dark house. "Honestly, Erik, there are no such things as sprits who live in door knockers. You above all people should know that, oh great and powerful Opera Ghost! And besides, my unfortunate friend, Nadir Khan, has been dead for two years. His mind practically split in two from our last little emprise!"
A burst of cold wind blasted his thin body, blew out the candle he was preparing, and plunged him into complete blackness.
It would be a lie to say that he wasn't startled, but he had learned long ago that darkness was his friend and whenever it was brought to him, even when it wasn't wanted, he should embrace it.
So onward he went, trudging up the stairs in total blackness, to his bed chambers. The stairs groaned under his light weight. Creak. Thunk. Creak. Thunk.
Upon reaching there, he performed his daily routine after returning from his annual walk. Placing his fedora and cloak gracefully on the rack perched on the wall, he stepped over towards Ayesha who had been warming her fur by the barely burning fire. Erik stroked her fine fur with the back of his skinny hand and gave a half smile. "You've always been there for me, haven't you my little lady?" The beautiful Siamese cat responded with a chorus purring.
Satisfied, Erik sat down at his all too familiar organ. He grazed his fingers over the white keys but did not play. I haven't played since…well since she left me. He resumed to stare at they untouched keys when there came a loud crash from down stares
Erik gave a mock smile. "I would appear that we have some callers, little lady." He laughed a little at his own inside joke "Don't you worry, precious, none is in our home. He moved to pick up Ayesha went another loud bang broke the monumental silence. Ayesha spit and hissed at the door as she dug her claws into Erik's pant leg. Erik's yellow eyes were glued to the door. There was someone in his house.
Clank. Bang. Clank. Bang.
"Erik!" moaned a voice "Erik!" The voice vibrated throughout the house.
"Leave me stranger! Or I'll send you to hell without a second thought!" Erik hated to hesitate, but for all he knew, the intruder could have a gun. Being with his trusty Punjab lasso, he was helpless.
"Erik," the voice croaked for the third time. The clanks and bangs ceased. The stranger was at the door.
Yeah if you guys know the story of the Christmas Carol then you probably know what'll happen. Read and review and please no flames; I'm fragile