[quote]

karadarkrose wrote:

Chapter One

Dianna was not sure what could bring her out into the cold air of Paris that night. There was danger in the air; she heard a piercing howl that split the night. She pulled her tattered shawl tighter around her shoulders. Spring was coming soon, but right now winter still had a grip. She shuddered; there was a vârcolac out tonight. But it was more than just that.

Dianna looked in the direction of the Opera House, there was a bright orange light coming from its direction. There also seemed to be some people running down the road coming from there. Most were dressed in their finest; they were too scared to notice that they were now in some of the worst part of town. Dianna grabbed an old woman by the arm before she could get by her. The old lady spun around to face her with a look of terror in her eyes.

"Let go of me!" She screamed, Dianna's grasp just tightened on the woman's arm,

"Its ok lady," Dianna said with a voice as soft as silk. "I just want to know what is going on."

"That mad ghost, he burned the Opera House down!" she tried again to pull away from her, this time Dianna let her go, almost causing the old woman to fall.

Dianna had not even been in Paris that long. She was a gypsy runaway, this just happened to be the place she chose to make her new start. She was only the second to get away from this caravan. It had been many years before she dared to get away that a young masked boy had run off after killing the caravan leader. Dianna was not sad to hear about the man's death, but she was sad that the boy had left; he had saved her from the man called Javert.

She had to wonder sometimes what had become of him. He had the most brilliant mind. She had seen after he had saved her, the inside of his tent. He had all sorts of the oddest things that he had made himself. At the moment she could not even recall his name, though he had told her with much hesitation.

Chapter Two

She was only eleven, but she had started dancing for money, the rest of the girls said that she was good enough to start working. Sometimes the masked boy would even play while they danced; it was the only time she enjoyed dancing. She would close her eyes and moved to his magical music. Dianna was not even her real name, the one her mother had given her. At this time in her life she was known as Lilith.

Many men had made comments about her beauty. She was taller than most of the girls her age. Hair as dark as the raven's wings, and her eyes that were a dark purple, she had gotten those from her grandmother. She dressed in the typical garb of the gypsy dancer. After the dancing was done, Lilith had gone into the dark woods near the camp to be alone for a while.

She was resting against a tree when Javert came upon her. Lilith could smell the rank scent of liquor on his breath; it made her gag, as he got closer. She had tried to run, but he caught her by the arm before she had a chance to get far and pulled her to him.

He was a large man, not so much tall, but large in girth. She was very surprised that he came after her that night. She was told more than once his preference ran in the other direction. But she guessed that he had taken all he could from then and was not yet ready to try the only boy he had not yet taken.

Of course Lilith was never very sure what the man was doing with them in the first place. He was not born a gypsy after all. She figured it was no more than the fact he was a good showman.

"Well my beauty, I think I might take you as my new pet," he breathed right in her face.

Lilith was about to scream when she saw the masked boy creeping up behind the filth that was holding her arm. He signaled her to be silent as she saw him pulling something from his belt. He pressed the sharp point of a knife against their leader's back.

"Let her go Javert," he hissed in the man's ear.

The sudden feeling of the knife point against his back and the man's voice caused Javert to release her arm. She did not run though, she wanted to see what the boy was going to do with him. But much to her disappointment, he did not kill him yet. He told the man to go back to camp, and that he did not want to see him near her or any of the girls again.

"You should have killed him," she said trying to brush herself off as best she could.

He seemed surprised that she was not running away right now. Most of the others in the camp never stayed around him this long. But for some reason she was not afraid of him, even with that mask that covered almost all of his face.

"Why are you not running from me?" he asked finally. "Don't I scare you like the rest?"

She just shook her head as she sat down on a tree stump that she had found. The girl was more fascinated by him then scared, most of all by his eyes. They seemed to glow, even this far from the camp fire.

"Why would I be? You have never done anything to me," she said still watching him as he came closer. "I don't even know your name, if you have one."

He seemed a bit nervous at that moment. She had never heard anyone call him by his name, they just called him things like "living corpse" or worse. She did not pay any head to these names; he was just another boy as far as she could tell.

"It's not used much anymore," he said with a bit of a laugh. "If you must know, it is Erik."

"Erik…" she repeated trying to make sure she would never forget the name of the one who saved her.

He bowed with a bit of a flourish that made Lilith laugh. He seemed nice to her, she was not scared in the least. She was not even curious about what might lay under that mask. He asked to take her to his tent to check her over to make sure that the lady was not hurt.

Lilith jumped off of the stump and hugged Erik. He stood stiff until she let him go again. She could not understand why a simple hug seemed to cause such a reaction. He shook his head a bit and told her to follow him back to his tent.

She did not hesitate to do as he asked. This would be the first and only time a girl would go into Erik's tent. It was only a couple of weeks later that Erik did kill Javert and ran away. Lilith found herself crying when she found out he was gone. The rest of the gypsy found her now crazed and would not come to near her after that. After all, why would anyone care about the welfare of the living corpse?