Broken Doll

Prologue

The closure of Phantasma came as a shock to all, everyone hadn't a job to go to anymore; but perhaps the worst shock was to Pearl. She had expected a job as a 'Oo lala girl' for at least a year, enough to get money together before her break as a singer; but it didn't come, it was snapped away and she was left with the abandoned building; the ghosts. Everyone had gone and nobody heard of Mister Y since, even Meg Giry; the girl who was "about" town more than most, but it wasn't to be. She was gone with the rest of them. And Pearl was alone, destitute without a penny to her name.

All until she found a job at a cheap barin New York, it paid next to nothing but offered board; little did she know what would come of being a pretty face among drunken animals. One grab, a groap from a hand until she had enough and it all ended with one slap.

One slap. One movement, then she was changed; scarred. Ugly.

Thrown into the streets with her face in pieces and left to die. Until her cries of pain brought a masked figure to her side, staring at her with one eye listening beneath a white mask. Dangerously towering over her; The Angel of Death had come to take her. Standing above her, glaring down at pity. She cried in her pain, holding out one of her blood covered hands with a whimper; "Angel...please make it quick, the pain, please Angel." She croaked through the tears, barely being able to see the man from the tears and the blood, the figure gasped at the words, staring at her in disbelief. Staring with those eyes.

But it was over quickly, as a second later she was engulfed in a warm darkness, there was no more pain, just darkness and a prickling heat.

Death...

Chapter One

The Angel of Death

To her immense surprise, Pearl awoke, her face numb and her body still warm. There was no more blood, She was clean and lying in the center of a large bed. The room had only a dim firelight to animate it, flickering beautifully. Was it all a dream? But it was with this dim light she became aware of a figure in the corner of the room, staring over at her silently; with the same white mask and captivating eyes. She felt a gasp fall from her lips; "Purgatory?" She watched as the figure flinched away a little, remaining motionless for a moment as it watched her, but eventually it came closer. "Not quiet." His voice was deep and captivating, so very familiar..

"Father, is she awake?" A small figure came from the door, glancing to the man until eventually looking over at her. "Oh..I didn't know, I'm sorry Father." The man looked down at him, his hand in the boy's hair for a moment. "She's just woken. I think it best if I talk to her for a moment Gustave, go back to your room."

"Yes Father." The boy looked over to her for a moment; staring. He smiled gently though, with kind eyes she had seen before. But he followed the man's instruction and left. The man remained, still standing with an intimidating air. Silently examining her, she felt like an animal on display.

"I found you in an alley, your cries alerted me; I thought it was someone attacked, but I found you. You were in bad shape, you may remember, or not. Your face-.." He paused for a moment. Clearing his throat before continuing. "Your face; it's severely scarred to the point where you may not recognise yourself; it will be a shock, I believe you should recover before seeing it." He waited, his hands behind his back as he remained emotionless before her. But he was tense, blank and cold. As if he didn't want to be there.

Pearl rose her hand to her face, touching the bandage and gasping. Her eyes locking towards the man again with a sniffle. "I-..I thought it was a dream." She felt herself beginning to choke up as she touched the bandage again. "I thought it was all a dream." Tears began flowing freely. "He attacked me, he tried to-..I slapped him away, he did this to me!" She began breaking down, her shoulders trembling as she cried openly and freely, no more holding back as she realised she would never be able to do anything again. What surprised her most was the touch on her shoulder as she cried. A hand. She looked up to find the Man beside her, trying to comfort her with a strained expression. He felt awkward; but there was understanding.

"You are alive, and life is precious. Very precious." He sat beside her on a chair near the bed, looking at her still with those unnerving eyes as she sobbed. "What will I do, I'm a dancer, without my face who would hire me, who would want me?!" She brought her hands to her face, touching the soft bandages with another sob. "I'll never be on stage now, I'll never sing again!" She doubled over with more heart wrenching sobs. She remained this way for an hour, the man beside her comforting her gently until she eventually fell asleep crying.

When she awoke again, the man was gone and she was left alone. The sound of a piano drawing her out of the room.

She was in a large hall, various doors surrounding her as she followed the sounds to a large open room, she felt a little strange on her legs but she was able to walk sufficiently. Gustave sat at the piano playing shyly. He noticed her as she entered the room, looking at her with a worried expression. "Father said that you should rest." The boy's fingers stopped on the ivory keys. Resting upon them. "He told me to stay out of your room." He admitted with a sigh. As if he had to explain why he hadn't came in at all.

Pearl smiled slightly, walking forward until she sat beside the boy on the piano. "It's okay; I understand." She looked down at the key's with a side smile. She remembered playing, but the bandages blocked her eyes a little. "I'm Gustave, Do you play?" The boy smiled up towards her, his eyes once again familiar as they smiled up at her. Pearl laughed a little. "I did." She flexed her fingers a little against the keys. "I don't think I can with these bandages blocking my eye, I'm Pearl." Pearl smiled at the boy, who looked at her with a rather odd expression, that of compassion and understanding; one you wouldn't expect of a young boy of around 10.

"Father is really good at the Piano, well, most instruments really." Gustave smiled at her. "He could help you." She wondered why the boy was so..open? but it was nice to have a conversation with the boy regardless. "Your Father has helped me enough, I don't wish to empose any longer than nessecary." Pearl's hands gently pressed on the ivory keys as she spoke to the boy. "I'll be on my way quick enough." She smiled down at him, but his brow furrowed a little; "How will you?"

"What do you mean?" She hoped he wouldn't mention the scarring; but it was something else he said. "We're in Chicago you're from New York aren't you?" The words were like ice to her skin. "Ch..Chicago?"She certainly hadn't expected that.

"Father and I were on our way to Chicago when he found you...You slept through the Journey." He looked rather nervous at admitting it. "Oh." How could Pearl respond to that? She was in a different state. "Why did your Father help me if he were travelling?" Pearl looked at Gustave, who now avoided her eyes. "Well, he heard you, when he saw what happened to you; because he's the same he had to help you." Pearl frowned. "The same?"

He went to elabourate, but a figure appeared and he turned silent. "I see the Mademoiselle is up." He watched her from the door. "And she plays?" He rose the visible eyebrow as he walked forward. Gustave, she had just noticed - Left the room. She awkwardly smiled, pulling her fingers from the keys. "Not that well, I was just speaking to Gustave mostly."

The man sat beside her, silently staring at the keys. "He said that you play very well." The man smiled slightly, placing his hands on the piano's keys, he began to effortlessly play The Waltz from Faust, with little effort strangely. "Faust." She smiled a little, He looked towards her for a moment; "Are you feeling weak at all?" He scanned her as she sat, his fingers still moving unhindered gracefully on the keyboard. She couldn't help but look shocked. " , I'm fine."

"So, you like Faust then?" He continued playing whilst talking to her, only occasionally looking at the keys. "My favorite opera." She smiled and he did, but it was less pronounced and more of a twitch than an actual smile. "Mine also."

"You play beautifully." Pearl felt rather overwhelmed as he played without even trying. He went back to looking at her; "Your bandages look ready to come off. He spoke absently, occasionally flickering his gaze to the keys. His jaw tensing a little. "What is your name?" She smiled at him and he continued looking at the keys, although he seemed to have no real requirement to do so. "You may call me Erik." He continued playing beautifully, She couldn't help but sigh at the loveliness of it. "I'm Pearl..I have to thank-you for saving my life. You didn't have to and I'm forever in your debt." She placed her hand on his arm as she spoke, he froze under her touch, tensing rather heavily. The touch of it making her take her hand away. "I'm sorry." She frowned a little, but he didn't seem to notice as he brought the song to a close. He stood abruptly, offering her his hand. "We should tend to those bandages."

He led her back into the room she previously slept in, it was only in this she saw the golden frame of a large mirror, covered by a thick red material which was draped over it. He sat her upon the bed and began to untie the bandage until it was removed. It was a slow process, until the last blood stained bits were gone. He looked at her with a sudden change, his expression blank but his eyes light up with pity and anguish. He cleared his throat, looking away to pick up a damp cloth. He wiped away the remaining blood and dried her face until it was cleaned. The wounds had mostly healed, leaving only scars. He didn't know what to say.

"Is it bad?" She looked up at him as he stared down at her with the same empty face and captivating eyes. "I'm afraid so." his hand touched one of her scars, bringing his fingers downwards until it met at her cheek, although the scar was going down from past her left eyebrow to her jawline. With another going in the same direction but from the top of her forehead, She looked like a cracked porcelain doll that had been glued back together, but there was still cracks.

She stood, tormented by the look in his eyes - going towards the mirror with a wary hand extended. He turned to see where she was going, and in seeing her direction went forward to stop her; but the material was ripped away a moment too soon and she unleashed a loud scream at the sight of her own face. Her hands hitting the mirror as if trying to break it, to ruin the images. She fell to the floor in a huddle, her hands still hitting the mirror which was now cracked, her hands bloodied and torn. Erik found her side, looking on at her as she cried with cut hands at the remaining image of herself, broken like the mirror. Broken just as he was. It was like his own experience as a child, but it was cruel curiosity which showed her the images, and at the hands of man which she was given her scars. Where he was born with his curse and shown it by his own mother who rejected him. Living in society that rejected him. The same which would reject her.

He pulled her away from the shattered glass, a thing his mother didn't do. Taking her in his arms like a child; something he wished his mother would have done for him, he put his hand through her hair and allowed her to sob into his chest. Allowed her the things his own mother didn't allow him. But it didn't last, as after a moment she pulled herself away, backing away from him and covering her face with a little sob, looking away from him.

Her actions confused him. "What are you doing, your bleeding, come back here." But she moved away. It was only when she spoke he realised. "You shouldn't have to look at me like this, I'm a monster. You don't deserve this...this burden." She sniffled even more, inching away as he tried to step closer. "You're not a monster." He went to go closer but once again she hid herself.

He slowly went down on his knee's again, to her level. His hand now on his mask as he watched her practically mirror himself from years ago. "This face which earned a mother's fear and loathing.." He looked at her with doubt as he began to peel away his security; his mask. She watched as he removed it, gasping at what lay behind it. She felt almost worse for saying that she was a monster; what must he think she believes of him?

"A mask." He looked down at it with a "My first unfeeling scrap of clothing." He frowned as she began to move back towards him, her tears still flowing as she placed her hand upon his face, touching his face gently with no signs of fear. "Thank-you for saving me." She whispered softly, her hand remaining on his face as she spoke. "I owe you so much." She slowly withdrew her warm touch, making Erik miss it; it had been long since he had been touched so tenderly.

"You owe me nothing. Your life will be changed from now on; For that I am sorry. I know the life you will lead and it has been one of pain for me, but in it all I found redemption, My son." He smiled softly, although his words were of sadness. "It is now my duty to make sure that the life you have is different from my own, with no pain or suffering that I had. No shame or torment, no pain...no cages." He whispered the last words, gathering himself from the floor and placing his mask back on. He left the room, leaving her with the shards of mirror around her.

Once he returned, he began to fix her hands; clearing the glass from her skin carefully, then placing bandages around her delicate hands. Once the bandages were on he put her back into the bed. "You need rest, the past days have been emotionally exhausting for you. You need as much sleep as you can get to recover. I will see you in the morning" And with those words he left; leaving her in the bed to fall back into the darkness.

When she woke, there was a box at her feet with a note;

"Your shield from the world, if you so choose it.

E.

Within the box was a porcelain mask, white like his but fit to match the diagonal cut across her face, going down from above her left eyebrow to her jaw, covering half her face and one facial detail was similar to her actual facial structure, with defined cheek bone and eyebrow. It had a rather charming expression which matched her face and yet added something more. She lifted her brown hair, placing the mask on her head so the securing band went under her hair and was concealed by her curls. She was surprised to feel its fit, which seemed perfect. With it on she felt...less vulnerable. Like her pain wasn't on the surface anymore, that the mask eased her pain. Pearl stood from the bed, nervously approaching the shattered mirror to see her reflection; anticipating the same shock.

When she looked it was as if she had changed; the same and yet different. She felt confident where she hadn't before and felt stronger; like a phoenix risen from the ashes, in pain reborn with a mask to be stronger and more resilient than she was before. The mask defined her remaining face and in her opinion made her more beautiful than she had been previously, even without the scars. The mask gave her courage.

The Mask gave her hope.