He forced himself out of the opera house into the pitch black night. He couldn't stay there, not with the mobs of people hunting him down.

He hurried down the empty cobblestone street, not knowing where he was fleeing to. He just knew that he had to get away or else lose his life. And he wasn't ready to die yet. But as he grew farther and farther from the opera house, he could feel the music, his life, draining out of him. Still, he felt safe knowing that his existence would be kept a secret from the world, that somehow, although she'd still deserted him, Christine was still protecting him in some way. He clung to his thought as it was his only proof that she still loved him. Oh how his heart yearned for her!

The cold wind swept past him, chilling the exposed skin on the right side of his face. In his hurry to escape from the opera house, he'd left his mask behind. Brilliant. There was no going back for it now. He pulled his dark cloak up to cover his face and turned the corner…

He stopped in his tracks. He heard someone singing softly from up ahead. But it wasn't the singing itself that shocked him… it was the song.

"Nighttime sharpens, heightens each sensation
Darkness stirs and wakes imagination…"

The Phantom (for that was what he was now, only a fading shadow) listened harder, making sure he was indeed hearing the song from another's voice. It was a woman; that was certain. Her voice had the low tenderness of an alto. He saw her coming down the street toward him, singing and walking… and not paying attention.

He knew he should be on his way, but her gentle voice rooted him in his place. It was not a beautiful, soaring voice like Christine's was, but it soothed his senses nonetheless. Before he knew it, she was only a few steps away. As she neared, however, she did not pay the slightest attention to him. What was wrong with this girl? Walking alone on a deserted street at night…? And not running from the sight of a strange man!

It was then he noticed the bandages on her eyes and the long wooden cane in her hand. How could he have missed them before? The reason she wasn't reacting to him was because she couldn't see him. In fact, he realized, she couldn't see where she was going, either, and the cane assisted her. He inspected her as she neared, taking in her flowing white dress and swirling black hair which reached her elbows. She looked somewhat wealthy.

"Where did you hear that song?" he blurted as she brushed by him, unable to resist. Could she be a friend of Christine's…? He was quite sure he'd never seen the girl before, and any friend of Christine's he'd have seen. The girl stopped walking and turned around, facing him. She brought the cane up to her side and rested both hands on top.

"Well I…" she started. "I went to the Opera Populaire one night." She gave a faint smile at this. "And I heard the most beautiful song… it seemed to be coming from the opera house itself." She turned her face to him. "The opera house was singing to me." Her face was angled directly at him.

He felt as though her eyes could see straight through the bandages and into his own. He examined her more closely to make sure she was, indeed, blind. He concluded that she was. Then how could she tell where he was…?

"I fell in love with the song," the girl continued. The small smile was still on her face. "And I've been singing it ever since. Do you know the song?"

He stared at the girl standing before him. Could he tell her he was the one who wrote it? No, never.

"Yes… I believe I've heard it before," he replied. "I, too, have been to the Opera Populaire before." What an understatement.

"Do you sing?" she asked. What a bold girl she was. With all the questioning, he'd soon be telling her his secrets… but he felt he couldn't lie and that if he did, she'd know.

"Yes," he said. He turned to look behind him to make sure the mob hadn't managed to follow. There was no sign of them.

"Will you sing for me?"

He stared at the girl. How could she ask that? Of all things to ask… He pulled his thoughts together. Just one song would be alright, he supposed. It wouldn't hurt to sing one last song before fleeing from his former life, would it? But could he sing his special song to someone other than his angel, Christine? Moments of dreadful silence passed.

"Yes," he said finally. "…I will sing for you."

He found himself walking down the street with her without knowing what compelled him to do so. Every few steps, she would ask him to sing again, and he would. The night was silent and the street was alone—he was safe for now.

Silently the senses abandon the defenses…

"Where are you going?" he asked her. They had been walking for some time, now. It was unusual for a young woman to walk down a dark street with an unknown man.

"I don't know," she said. "I just wanted to get… away." Her lips curved into another mysterious smile. "I've had this urge to get away ever since the… accident." It seemed as though the "accident" was something she'd rather not think about, but she continued smiling. He had the urge to ask her what she was getting away from, but he decided against it.

"What is your name?" the girl asked suddenly. "I've been walking with you this whole time and I realized… I don't even know what your name is!" He opened his mouth, and then closed it. What could he say? He certainly couldn't say "Phantom" or "Angel" for he was no longer living that life, was he? And if he said "Opera Ghost"… well, that was just out of the question.

"Erik," he said. The name felt strange on his tongue. He hadn't used his real name in quite a long time. "And you are…?" He felt the need to ask although he thoroughly doubted he'd see her again.

"Oriel," she said. Erik felt his ears were playing tricks on him. He glanced down at her as though to make sure she wasn't kidding. Oriel… a name meaning angel?

"I…" he suddenly felt wary of her presence, as though she were dangerous to him. He shook his head. He couldn't be here with her. She was too… dangerous, whatever that might have been. "I must go." And with that, he turned down a dark alley and left her standing in the street alone.

Oriel felt Erik turn and walk away. She wanted to call out to him and beg him to stay, but she knew better than that. To call out to a strange man could be trouble, especially in her current state. She continued on her way, knowing how to get home by heart. As she walked she quietly hummed the song of the opera house to the beat of her cane on the cobblestones.

Erik watched her disappear into the darkness and as she grew farther, he could feel the music grow farther from him as well. He grimaced. So this was it, then. He was giving up his music. Without Christine, the music was worthless… right? Then why could he sing with this girl who knew his song?

The only thing left to do was to escape from Paris and forget about the music that had kept him alive for so long. Erik felt the tears burning on his eyes again, but held them back this time. He had to forget it. He'd sung it himself.

It's over now, the music of the night.

But if it still lived on in the heart of an Angel, was it really over just yet?

Thank you so much for reading; I really appreciate it! I would like to know what you all think, and constructive criticism is welcomed. Also, please let me know if you would like me to continue this story or leave it as a one-shot. For me, it could go both ways. Again, thanks for reading :)

-SOC