This is the second piece of Phantom Phiction I have posted on this site, and my first full story. I have about fifteen chapters written, and I'm still getting the hang of everything when it comes to uploading phictions, so bare with me.

This story is basically Kay and 2004 Movie based, as these are the versions I know best, and I am not yet confident enough to attempt a full-blown Leroux/Kay phiction. I love both Kay's Erik and the movie Erik, and thought it would be interesting to mix their personalities together.

This is set three years after the 2004 Movie is set.

Disclaimer: I do not own Phantom of the Opera...if I did, it would be pretty vain of me to sit and write phictions about it. I'm not vain, am I reflection in the mirror...?

Reviews welcome. (As in please, my one shot only got one!) and constructive criticism is encouraged.

Silence

A Room Full of Pain

Madame Giry

The little creature they carried into the room was hardly a human being at all. If I had not known better I would have sworn she was already dead, a skeleton, with a few thin pieces of skin hanging from her bones. My hand flew to my mouth as they laid her upon the bed, gesturing wildly that she needed some water, and I pulled myself together as best I could to retrieve what they needed.

It was only when I moved closer to tend to the many wounds that covered her small body that I noticed her chest moving slowly up and down, and I realised she was not dead. My eyes scanned her thin frame, taking in ever bruise, every cut…her body was naked apart from a sheet that had been wrapped around her body.

"What happened?" I whispered, hardly able to speak as the gravity of what had been done to her set in. "Who did this?"

"We do not know, Madame Giry," Nicolas, a young man from the ballet, replied. "We found her in the streets and thought it best to bring her to you."

"It would have been kinder if she had died," I said softly, dabbing at a fierce wound on her upper arm.

"W-we think she was raped, Madame," it was hard for him to say it, I knew that, and I tried my best to reassuring, though in the presence of such evil doings it was difficult for me as well.

"That is most likely," I answered, my voice wavering. "Poor child, she cannot be more than seventeen years old." Nicolas and the other boys, who I had taught and cared for since childhood, were obviously in a state of shock themselves, and so I sent them away, instructing them to be good and ready for rehearsals tomorrow. They nodded, trying to not to notice the poor creature merely metres away from them.

Once they were gone I could focus my full attention onto her. As I did, I realised the full extent of her injuries. One of her legs ankles was dislocated, and she had some awful cuts on her side and back, many of them dirty and festering. I wondered how long she had been outside, how long the torture had gone on for. I gently pushed some of her once blonde hair, now matted with dried blood, from her face.

"Why would anyone do this to you?" I sighed, thinking for a second that I saw her eyelids flicker, but it was just for a fleeting second, and soon she was as lifeless as she had been before.

"Poor child," I whispered again, tying a cloth around a gash on her forehead tenderly. "What kind of life have you known?"

Erik

I could not believe that someone was in that room again…ithat room/i, the one she swore never to let anyone enter again. The room they all believed cursed, a rumour which I did not try to quash as it suited me well. As Antoinette left the room, I appeared before her, startling her a little, but she soon she regained her composure.

"You promised me you would never…" but she cut me off.

"I promised you, Erik, but there was nowhere else where we would put her apart from the ballet girl's dormitory."

"Then I advise that is where you put her," there was a warning tone to my voice, and she turned away from me.

"It is not possible that she stay there, as we could not possibly care for her in the correct manner."

"Why did your pathetic little ballet boys not take her straight to hospital as any fool with two brain cells would." She narrowed her eyes, looking straight at me.

"They are good people Erik, do not insult them in such a way," she sighed, folding her arms frustratedly. "They were shocked, they are only young, and they brought her to the first person that crossed their mind. Anyway, the hospital would probably not treat her, as they would probably assume she was a prostitute off the streets."

"I instructed that no one ever use that room again," I snapped, feeling anger burning inside of me. "You swore to me…"

"Things change Erik, and circumstances occur when promises must be broken for the good of others. Sometimes we must look beyond ourselves and see what is best for someone else."

With that she walked away, back into the room where she had come. I was seething with anger, as I made my way down one of the many passageways that I had built for myself over the years. Ever since Don Juan Triumphant and the disastrous aftermath, I have forbidden Antoinette to let anyone in that room, the room where Christine once was.

The Opera House was not nearly as badly damaged as the press made it out to be, just some minor things had to be done, and it was up and running again within nine months. I had returned long before that, to the robbed and pillaged shell of my former home…I had no where else to go. By the time the first Opera appeared on stage, I had rebuilt the statues, rebuilt the organ, rebuilt the lair, rebuilt my life…a life of solitude. The only things I did not rebuild were the mirrors.

Three years it had been, three years since she left me, three years since my heart was broken. I have learnt my lesson. I will never let myself be broken hearted again; I will never seek love. The girl in the room is a threat to the promise I made to myself. I promised I would never fall in love again.

I will never fall in love again.

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TBC...now, review my pretties (pleeaaase!?)