He had lost her. His Angel had abandoned him for the love a fop. Tears were no longer enough to relieve the pain he felt. How could he go on living without her? He felt the cool smooth length pushing past his skin before he even made the decision to cut the skin. The Persian blade ran the length of forearm, cutting through the vein filled with pain and anger. His shining ruby blood joined the exotic jewels that decorated the handle of the knife. He felt wonderful, since his Christine had left he hadn't felt this good, he felt light and airy, as if at any moment he'd begin floating through the air carried away by the dank wind from the hotel. His torso slid from the wall to the ground. He watched in amazement as his ruby blood trickled from the long cut on his right arm down his long and graceful pianist's fingers only to drop to the ground. The sound of the blood dripping on the ground began to form the beat of what Erik thought would be his last musical creation.

His hand looked so pale; the blood that should have been going through his fingers was now flowing over them. The scene he saw before him was so beautiful, he was glad this was the last thing he'd ever see before he died. It was harder to breathe now, he noted, so much harder. His eyes began to drift shut, everything turning grey. Yes, everything was right now, he was dying and he was unloved, his entire life seemed summed up in the way he was dying, but that was alright, it seemed only right. He managed a slight smile, everything would be fine now, yes, it would be over soon and he'd never have to live with being mocked by others again. Everything was going to be ok.

He felt the last beats of his heart. Three…not long now….two…he took his last breath…one.

Darkness.

It was all over now.

He felt an icy hand clamp down on his arm. He saw the bright light of a window. He felt that he was suddenly being pulled back into the world of the living. NO! His mind cried out in agony, NO! This wasn't right; it was supposed to be over now! He tried to struggle out of his captor's hand, but it was too strong and he was too weak. He tried to tell the hand to leave him alone, to let him go to the other side, it was his time! Everything was perfect! He was already dead! Despite his mind's anguish he was set on his feet. He slowly felt his energy return to him, not his blood, but his energy. Slowly his eyes opened fully. Two icy hands cupped his face and held his head up. When his vibrant green eyes focused he looked to see who his captor was.

"You?" Erik's voice croaked out while his eyes stared unbelievingly towards Death. He wore a black, sack suit and a bowler hat along with a porcelain mask that was made to look like a skull.

Death reached his hand out and gripped Erik's dead hand in a friendly hand shake. "Hello Erik!" Death said warmly, Erik just looked at the man. "Oh my! Where are my manners?" The man took the mask off to reveal a face like Erik's, one side scarred and ravaged the other normal and handsome. "The name's Henry, nice to meet ya'." He wrapped an arm around Erik's stunned shoulders. He pulled Erik with him as began to walk towards the door.

"Why won't you let me die?" Erik's anguished voice whimpered as Henry opened the hotel room door.

Henry let out a laugh, "Erik, you are dead!" He turned them around, "Look over there," he pointed towards where Erik had committed suicide, and to Erik's surprise he was laying there on his side, blood stinging the floor as well has his expensive suit. "Well, I suppose you're not quite dead…" Henry said looking Erik up and down. Erik gave him a perplexed look. Henry sighed, "I'll explain over breakfast." He began to lead Erik out the door again only pausing to ask, "Do you like coffee?"

That was the beginning of a new life for Erik. He was dead. He was alive. He was very confused.

This is an odd story, but I really like how it's coming along, I have the second chapter done, the third is getting tweaked right now. Please RandR I appreciate it. It won't remain too depressing for too long I promise.