A/N- Hey there! I wrote another story. Spiffy, ain't it?? Well, lemme tell you about it. Since I have more
space I can extend the summary. Here goes:
What if love lasted for ever and the people that never attained that love could have another chance? Years
after Erik died, and the people he once knew, tortured, and loved followed, he was reborn into a similar life
but with the absence of his deformity. The past repeats itself, though, and his face does receive the scares it
knew before. Erik soon meets Christine, who was blessed in being reborn with her same name, at an
audition for a college musical. Their friendship blossoms into love, but that love becomes compromised.
Will Erik relive the life he had when he lived beneath the Paris Opera house, losing Christine to another man
and reducing to murder as the only way to get her? Or will Erik manage to have Christine as he dreamed of
when he lived before?
Prologue
Darkness settled over the city hours ago. A chilled air drifted through the streets, hinting at the end
of summer and the beginning of autumn. As the moon reached it's peak in the night sky Erik had taken a
break from his continuing work. He left his loft, leaving a single light on as some type of comfort, and
began to wander the streets. He took nothing but his house keys and put on a trench coat that he only wore
during the cooling weather. Erik hated the cold of the north, but preferred it far more than the constant heat
that you found in the southern states.
Erik walked through the deserted streets that enveloped the downtown area. In the earlier parts of
the twentieth century the downtown region would be the highlight of the city. These days it was
downtrodden and over run with tall business buildings a growing number of wandering homeless people.
During the nights, though, they seemed to disappear, taking their shelter in the few shelters around this area.
The others were on the other side of town, too far for them to wander at times.
The streetlights changed for unseen cars and Erik walked through the streets like a ghost. The
solitude of the night seemed friendlier than the day. Erik spent his time in his loft composing music and
painting. Being only twenty he had no need for any school. At the young age of ten it was proven that he
was a genius and that school would soon bore him. Erik's mother didn't listen and soon found out that the
doctors and teachers were right. He was prone to fits of rage and would seem to go deaf when ever he
chose. Erik was quickly removed and taught at home by a family friend who was a professor at the city's
college. His mind soon reached farther than his teacher. At sixteen Erik left home, becoming friends with a
lawyer and taking up business with the college.
A sudden gust of wind whipped around the building and through the streets. Erik shuddered and
raised the collar of his coat. He cursed the weather, wishing that it wouldn't be so harsh. The wind
wouldn't comply and continued to blow. Erik continued his walk happy that the wind quickly changed it's
course so it pushed him along.
"My hat!"
Erik turned sharply as the voice whipped by him with the wind. He didn't see the person but saw
the hat flying with the aid of the wind. Erik gingerly lifted his hand into the air, as the hat blew by him. His
fingers took hold of the cap's bill and he pulled it from the force. He looked down at the worn article and
frowned slightly. It was a plain hat. A black baseball cap that seemed to be worn every where through any
type of weather.
"Hey man! Thanks."
"What?" Erik asked pulling himself from his train of thought. His eyes came over the hat's owner.
It was a man a year or two older than he was and shorter as well. He was dressed nicely, wearing designer
clothes and nice shoes. The man's strawberry blonde was tousled from the wind and his face flushed from
his sprint and failure to catch his hat.
The man smiled. "I just said thanks. I didn't think I'd get my hat. Lucky you were around." He
paused for a moment and studied Erik for a moment. He seemed to be stunned by Erik's height and air of
power and mystery. His skin was light, his eyes were a soft brown that seemed to reflect any type of light,
and his black his hung free and unkempt, whisking slightly behind his ears. "God, your tall."
Erik chuckled and held out the black baseball cap. "Not really."
"How tall are you?" the man asked. He took his baseball cap out of Erik's hand and put it on. He
fixed his hair and looked Erik over again. "People always tell me I'm tall, but, man, you're fuckin' huge!"
The smile on Erik's face faded slightly and he narrowed his eyes. "I'm just a just a few inches over
six feet. I would also suggest you refrain from those vulgar words; they aren't becoming of you." Erik
turned away from the stranger and put his hands in his pockets. "Have a good night."
"Wait up! We're headin' the same way." the man said with a soft smile. He caught up with Erik,
who obviously seemed annoyed with him. The man ignored it and continued to walk in step with the strange
man. "So, whatcha doin' walkin' around this late at night?"
Erik straight ahead, not wanting to look at the man. He felt obliged to reply to the question, being
raised with the manners of a saint. "I'm just going for a walk. I've been up trying to get something done for
my opera but I can't do a damn thing. Taking a walk seemed like it would clear my mind. The night is just
perfect for it. Something out here might inspire me." Erik glanced at his temporary companion. The man
seemed to be off in his own world. Erik let out a sigh. "And what are you doing out? Heading to the strip
joint up the street, I suppose."
The man laughed. "There is no way in hell I'd end up there." He smiled happily and looked at
Erik. "I am on my way to meet a beautiful woman I've been seeing for the past few months. I really like her
and I think this relationship may last a loooong time."
"I wish you luck." Erik replied softly. He glanced around and made the decision he'd leave this
man. "Well, I'm going down this street. Good night." The man waved his farewell and let Erik go on his
way. Erik was happy that the man didn't follow. "Thank you god." he whispered as he continued through
the deserted streets.
Time slowly passed as Erik moved on. He ran into only a few other people. A few rare hookers;
he passed by them as if they weren't there, ignoring their voices. The usual drunk wandered out of a bar,
tripping over their own feet and nearly vomiting in the street. The only people that Erik felt compelled to
notice were the few homeless people along the streets. They were rare downtown, living nearer to the
homeless shelters that was further uptown. Erik would hand out two dollars to the few that were there,
acting like an angel of mercy.
Erik began to wander back towards his loft, tracing steps of old. The alleys were empty of any
living creature. The smell of mold and garbage lingered in the stale air. Erik was nauseated by the smell but
found that this was the quickest route home. There were not long sidewalks and no buildings to walk
around. The alleys cut through everything and the empty streets made it easy to jog across to the next
winding area of alleyways.
A muffled meow caught Erik's wandering attention. He came to a stop and looked around. The
sound came again and Erik slowly followed it. He got down onto his knees and began to push around the
damp papers on the ground. As Erik pulled free the mess the meow came again and he soon found the
source of the pitiful sound. A small Siamese kitten was curled up beneath mess, dirty and visibly hungry.
One of it's small legs was scratched and the kitten, between looking at Erik and meowing, would lick the
wound slowly.
"You poor thing." Erik whispered. He touched the cat, amazed that it didn't mind the stranger's
touch. He smiled weakly, pitying the small creature Erik stood, cradling the Siamese kitten and slowly
stroking it's fur. "Its a good thing I found you." he said, beginning to travel through the alley. "I don't
think you would've lived too long by yourself. With a warm place to live during the winter and some food,
you'll be as good as new. You can stay with me. As odd as it may seem, it feels like you belong with me."
"Oh how sweet. Seems like we have a nut in our midst's."
Erik spun around, clutching the kitten protectively. He watched as four men emerged from the
shadows of the alley. They ranged in age and race, but they all had one thing in common; they were strong.
Each on held a weapon; a knife, a chain, a broken bottle, and a bat. Grins wrapped around their faces as
their fingers flexed and gripped the weapons they held.
"I don't want any trouble." Erik said. He edged to a wall and placed the kitten down on a box.
He eyed the four men as they slowly approached him. Erik fished out his wallet, which only held about a
hundred dollars and a group of discount cards. "Is this what you want? You can take it. I have no need for
any of it."
Erik tossed the wallet at the men and one of 'em grabbed it. They all examined what was inside
and seemed a bit disappointed. One turned to watch Erik as the others whispered out an obvious plan. Erik
was beginning to wish he had some type of way to defend himself. The only thing that came to mind was
that his anger could do the job. It was known, in his family and circle of friends, that Erik had problems
containing his anger and would lash out at anyone and anything. He could only hope that it would happen
when he wanted it.
The bigger man of the bunch stepped forward, his hand wrapped with a blood stained chain. He
looked at Erik and smiled. A few teeth were missing and his breath reeked of booze. "The money isn't
quite enough, but we can live with that. We just gotta show ya that at night this area belongs to us and we
don't need no fuckin' pricks wandering about talkin' to themselves." The man fixed the chain on his hand.
"I just want you to stay still."
Before anything else could happen Erik struck the man square in the face. The man fell backwards,
screaming in pain. Blood flowed from his broken nose and a tooth fell from his mouth. His friends took this
as their cue to strike. They mobbed Erik, swinging their weapons and yelling at him with every thing they
had. Erik retaliated quickly, punching and kicking whom ever he could. He felt something cut through his
skin, but the pain didn't register. Erik lashed out at the owner of the bat, taking it from him and using it as
his own weapon. After a few minuets, though, only one remained standing.
Erik breathed heavily, his bleeding hands wrapped around the bat.. His jacket was slashed, as was
his shirt beneath it. Blood was soaking through the cut clothes and it trickled down his skin. His eyes bore
into the last man standing, waiting for the man to make his move. The knife in his hand was clean and
glistened in the dim moonlight.
Without a single word the man kicked the bat from Erik's hand, spinning around to hit him in the
face with the handle of his knife. Erik stumbled into the wall and sunk to the ground. The pain of every
wound hit him at once and his body didn't know how to react. Erik tried to stand but his legs wouldn't
listen to his own commands.
In moments the attacker kicked Erik so he was laying on the ground. He straddled Erik, punching
his chest and face until Erik laid still, forcing himself to breath for the moment. The attacker smirked and
suddenly racked his knife across Erik's face. Erik screamed and soon the man began to slash at Erik's face
feverishly, as if he was possessed.
A gunshot suddenly sounded through the alley. The man's eyes widened and he suddenly slumped
backwards, the bullet caught in the back of his neck. Erik didn't move. He stared into the night sky, his
right eye blurry with his own blood. He whispered a prayer to anything that was listening. Erik couldn't tell
how bad his face was slashed but the pain gave him a clue.
"Shit! Mark, call for an ambulance. The guy is still alive." An officer suddenly appeared in Erik's
gaze. The man was about forty, his face weathered by age and years on the police force. He knelt beside
Erik, who turned his face to watch him. "Are you okay, sir?"
Erik winced in pain as he blinked. "I'm fine. My face. How bad is it?"
"Don't worry, sir. We've radioed for the paramedics and they'll be here any second." The officer
said, trying poorly to console Erik.
"What did he do to my face?" Erik asked, his voice filling with anger.
The officer looked off to someone out of Erik's range. "Mark, get me some towels to put under
this guy's head."
Erik seized the officer's collar, pulling his face close to his. The officer's eyes widened as fear
poured into them. "What did the bastard do to my face? Tell me."
"C-calm down, sir." the officer stuttered. He pulled away from Erik's powerful grip and stood.
The alley way soon filled with the flashing lights and the siren of the paramedics. "Help is here. The doctors
will explain everything." The officer hurried off towards the flashing lights.
space I can extend the summary. Here goes:
What if love lasted for ever and the people that never attained that love could have another chance? Years
after Erik died, and the people he once knew, tortured, and loved followed, he was reborn into a similar life
but with the absence of his deformity. The past repeats itself, though, and his face does receive the scares it
knew before. Erik soon meets Christine, who was blessed in being reborn with her same name, at an
audition for a college musical. Their friendship blossoms into love, but that love becomes compromised.
Will Erik relive the life he had when he lived beneath the Paris Opera house, losing Christine to another man
and reducing to murder as the only way to get her? Or will Erik manage to have Christine as he dreamed of
when he lived before?
Prologue
Darkness settled over the city hours ago. A chilled air drifted through the streets, hinting at the end
of summer and the beginning of autumn. As the moon reached it's peak in the night sky Erik had taken a
break from his continuing work. He left his loft, leaving a single light on as some type of comfort, and
began to wander the streets. He took nothing but his house keys and put on a trench coat that he only wore
during the cooling weather. Erik hated the cold of the north, but preferred it far more than the constant heat
that you found in the southern states.
Erik walked through the deserted streets that enveloped the downtown area. In the earlier parts of
the twentieth century the downtown region would be the highlight of the city. These days it was
downtrodden and over run with tall business buildings a growing number of wandering homeless people.
During the nights, though, they seemed to disappear, taking their shelter in the few shelters around this area.
The others were on the other side of town, too far for them to wander at times.
The streetlights changed for unseen cars and Erik walked through the streets like a ghost. The
solitude of the night seemed friendlier than the day. Erik spent his time in his loft composing music and
painting. Being only twenty he had no need for any school. At the young age of ten it was proven that he
was a genius and that school would soon bore him. Erik's mother didn't listen and soon found out that the
doctors and teachers were right. He was prone to fits of rage and would seem to go deaf when ever he
chose. Erik was quickly removed and taught at home by a family friend who was a professor at the city's
college. His mind soon reached farther than his teacher. At sixteen Erik left home, becoming friends with a
lawyer and taking up business with the college.
A sudden gust of wind whipped around the building and through the streets. Erik shuddered and
raised the collar of his coat. He cursed the weather, wishing that it wouldn't be so harsh. The wind
wouldn't comply and continued to blow. Erik continued his walk happy that the wind quickly changed it's
course so it pushed him along.
"My hat!"
Erik turned sharply as the voice whipped by him with the wind. He didn't see the person but saw
the hat flying with the aid of the wind. Erik gingerly lifted his hand into the air, as the hat blew by him. His
fingers took hold of the cap's bill and he pulled it from the force. He looked down at the worn article and
frowned slightly. It was a plain hat. A black baseball cap that seemed to be worn every where through any
type of weather.
"Hey man! Thanks."
"What?" Erik asked pulling himself from his train of thought. His eyes came over the hat's owner.
It was a man a year or two older than he was and shorter as well. He was dressed nicely, wearing designer
clothes and nice shoes. The man's strawberry blonde was tousled from the wind and his face flushed from
his sprint and failure to catch his hat.
The man smiled. "I just said thanks. I didn't think I'd get my hat. Lucky you were around." He
paused for a moment and studied Erik for a moment. He seemed to be stunned by Erik's height and air of
power and mystery. His skin was light, his eyes were a soft brown that seemed to reflect any type of light,
and his black his hung free and unkempt, whisking slightly behind his ears. "God, your tall."
Erik chuckled and held out the black baseball cap. "Not really."
"How tall are you?" the man asked. He took his baseball cap out of Erik's hand and put it on. He
fixed his hair and looked Erik over again. "People always tell me I'm tall, but, man, you're fuckin' huge!"
The smile on Erik's face faded slightly and he narrowed his eyes. "I'm just a just a few inches over
six feet. I would also suggest you refrain from those vulgar words; they aren't becoming of you." Erik
turned away from the stranger and put his hands in his pockets. "Have a good night."
"Wait up! We're headin' the same way." the man said with a soft smile. He caught up with Erik,
who obviously seemed annoyed with him. The man ignored it and continued to walk in step with the strange
man. "So, whatcha doin' walkin' around this late at night?"
Erik straight ahead, not wanting to look at the man. He felt obliged to reply to the question, being
raised with the manners of a saint. "I'm just going for a walk. I've been up trying to get something done for
my opera but I can't do a damn thing. Taking a walk seemed like it would clear my mind. The night is just
perfect for it. Something out here might inspire me." Erik glanced at his temporary companion. The man
seemed to be off in his own world. Erik let out a sigh. "And what are you doing out? Heading to the strip
joint up the street, I suppose."
The man laughed. "There is no way in hell I'd end up there." He smiled happily and looked at
Erik. "I am on my way to meet a beautiful woman I've been seeing for the past few months. I really like her
and I think this relationship may last a loooong time."
"I wish you luck." Erik replied softly. He glanced around and made the decision he'd leave this
man. "Well, I'm going down this street. Good night." The man waved his farewell and let Erik go on his
way. Erik was happy that the man didn't follow. "Thank you god." he whispered as he continued through
the deserted streets.
Time slowly passed as Erik moved on. He ran into only a few other people. A few rare hookers;
he passed by them as if they weren't there, ignoring their voices. The usual drunk wandered out of a bar,
tripping over their own feet and nearly vomiting in the street. The only people that Erik felt compelled to
notice were the few homeless people along the streets. They were rare downtown, living nearer to the
homeless shelters that was further uptown. Erik would hand out two dollars to the few that were there,
acting like an angel of mercy.
Erik began to wander back towards his loft, tracing steps of old. The alleys were empty of any
living creature. The smell of mold and garbage lingered in the stale air. Erik was nauseated by the smell but
found that this was the quickest route home. There were not long sidewalks and no buildings to walk
around. The alleys cut through everything and the empty streets made it easy to jog across to the next
winding area of alleyways.
A muffled meow caught Erik's wandering attention. He came to a stop and looked around. The
sound came again and Erik slowly followed it. He got down onto his knees and began to push around the
damp papers on the ground. As Erik pulled free the mess the meow came again and he soon found the
source of the pitiful sound. A small Siamese kitten was curled up beneath mess, dirty and visibly hungry.
One of it's small legs was scratched and the kitten, between looking at Erik and meowing, would lick the
wound slowly.
"You poor thing." Erik whispered. He touched the cat, amazed that it didn't mind the stranger's
touch. He smiled weakly, pitying the small creature Erik stood, cradling the Siamese kitten and slowly
stroking it's fur. "Its a good thing I found you." he said, beginning to travel through the alley. "I don't
think you would've lived too long by yourself. With a warm place to live during the winter and some food,
you'll be as good as new. You can stay with me. As odd as it may seem, it feels like you belong with me."
"Oh how sweet. Seems like we have a nut in our midst's."
Erik spun around, clutching the kitten protectively. He watched as four men emerged from the
shadows of the alley. They ranged in age and race, but they all had one thing in common; they were strong.
Each on held a weapon; a knife, a chain, a broken bottle, and a bat. Grins wrapped around their faces as
their fingers flexed and gripped the weapons they held.
"I don't want any trouble." Erik said. He edged to a wall and placed the kitten down on a box.
He eyed the four men as they slowly approached him. Erik fished out his wallet, which only held about a
hundred dollars and a group of discount cards. "Is this what you want? You can take it. I have no need for
any of it."
Erik tossed the wallet at the men and one of 'em grabbed it. They all examined what was inside
and seemed a bit disappointed. One turned to watch Erik as the others whispered out an obvious plan. Erik
was beginning to wish he had some type of way to defend himself. The only thing that came to mind was
that his anger could do the job. It was known, in his family and circle of friends, that Erik had problems
containing his anger and would lash out at anyone and anything. He could only hope that it would happen
when he wanted it.
The bigger man of the bunch stepped forward, his hand wrapped with a blood stained chain. He
looked at Erik and smiled. A few teeth were missing and his breath reeked of booze. "The money isn't
quite enough, but we can live with that. We just gotta show ya that at night this area belongs to us and we
don't need no fuckin' pricks wandering about talkin' to themselves." The man fixed the chain on his hand.
"I just want you to stay still."
Before anything else could happen Erik struck the man square in the face. The man fell backwards,
screaming in pain. Blood flowed from his broken nose and a tooth fell from his mouth. His friends took this
as their cue to strike. They mobbed Erik, swinging their weapons and yelling at him with every thing they
had. Erik retaliated quickly, punching and kicking whom ever he could. He felt something cut through his
skin, but the pain didn't register. Erik lashed out at the owner of the bat, taking it from him and using it as
his own weapon. After a few minuets, though, only one remained standing.
Erik breathed heavily, his bleeding hands wrapped around the bat.. His jacket was slashed, as was
his shirt beneath it. Blood was soaking through the cut clothes and it trickled down his skin. His eyes bore
into the last man standing, waiting for the man to make his move. The knife in his hand was clean and
glistened in the dim moonlight.
Without a single word the man kicked the bat from Erik's hand, spinning around to hit him in the
face with the handle of his knife. Erik stumbled into the wall and sunk to the ground. The pain of every
wound hit him at once and his body didn't know how to react. Erik tried to stand but his legs wouldn't
listen to his own commands.
In moments the attacker kicked Erik so he was laying on the ground. He straddled Erik, punching
his chest and face until Erik laid still, forcing himself to breath for the moment. The attacker smirked and
suddenly racked his knife across Erik's face. Erik screamed and soon the man began to slash at Erik's face
feverishly, as if he was possessed.
A gunshot suddenly sounded through the alley. The man's eyes widened and he suddenly slumped
backwards, the bullet caught in the back of his neck. Erik didn't move. He stared into the night sky, his
right eye blurry with his own blood. He whispered a prayer to anything that was listening. Erik couldn't tell
how bad his face was slashed but the pain gave him a clue.
"Shit! Mark, call for an ambulance. The guy is still alive." An officer suddenly appeared in Erik's
gaze. The man was about forty, his face weathered by age and years on the police force. He knelt beside
Erik, who turned his face to watch him. "Are you okay, sir?"
Erik winced in pain as he blinked. "I'm fine. My face. How bad is it?"
"Don't worry, sir. We've radioed for the paramedics and they'll be here any second." The officer
said, trying poorly to console Erik.
"What did he do to my face?" Erik asked, his voice filling with anger.
The officer looked off to someone out of Erik's range. "Mark, get me some towels to put under
this guy's head."
Erik seized the officer's collar, pulling his face close to his. The officer's eyes widened as fear
poured into them. "What did the bastard do to my face? Tell me."
"C-calm down, sir." the officer stuttered. He pulled away from Erik's powerful grip and stood.
The alley way soon filled with the flashing lights and the siren of the paramedics. "Help is here. The doctors
will explain everything." The officer hurried off towards the flashing lights.