Inspiration shook me thoroughly at 1 am and I could not ignore it's passionate plea. The following involves a concept that is common in the classic PhanPhics, and I hope to do my little twist justice.

Because, you see, Christine is not being kidnapped(For once). Nossir, it is our own very Erik who is the damsel in distress this time– but don't tell him I said that.

This is my second Phantom attempt, and my first multi-chapter thing in a LONG time, so bare with me as the story progresses. Nothing's planted in stone yet(Well, a few things are, but they're secret-like). Also, there will be no Raoul bashing here. He and Christine ARE married, so if you want insta-smexytime with Erik and Christine... well... BAH.

P.S: This is short... like... REAL short. New chapters will be longer, no worries!

Prologue: Taken

The quiet of the underground lair was false enough to smell, and with a grumble Erik rose from his seat to disclose the whereabouts of who or what had managed to enter his lakeside home without tripping one unfortunate trap or another. His hand curled subconsciously around the cord of the Punjab Lasso, and Erik quietly reflected on the correct throwing posture as the silence became more pronounced; 'Twist the wrist, flick forward, one step to the front, two steps back, roll the shoulder, yank.' The hollow, mad golden eyes that had been carved into the Ghost's face for three long years blinked at the emptiness of his home. It was always like this, but Erik did not feel alone in the slightest.

His hand clenched around the Punjab irritably and the Phantom restrained from rolling his eyes. How many times would the police insist on sending men into his lair only to turn up with nothing or, better yet, not turn up at all. It seemed foolish to him, that they would waste so much time on a man who merely wished to have the rest of his life to himself. The newly rebuilt Opera Populaire was happy to report absolutely no odd goings-on since the vile incident of Don Juan Triumphant. Of course, the disaster had been in more than one way beneficial to business.

Erik, however, had little care for startling frivolous Opera-goers, however loudly and tunelessly Carlotta might scream and bawl. He had lost the will to frighten the living, and satisfied himself below the floor, sipping beverages that became more and more potent for every day he hid underground. It didn't matter anyway, she was married to her boy and they lived a fairytale life of happiness and riches.

Erik died every time he thought of her.

The soft echo of a misplaced stone brought the Ghost back to his own mind with surprising clarity as he clenched his fist around the lasso and glowered into the shadows. He saw a brief movement and reacted instinctively, lunging forward with killing intention scrawled across his half-hidden visage just as the sensation of a blunt object across his shoulder blades drove Erik to the ground painfully, pushing himself up with a vicious snarl only to be held in place by someone's heavy boot.

"God aften, Herr Gylfason" A man bearing a thick black beard and noticeably blue eyes bent before his captive with a taunting grin.

The Norwegian threw Erik into shock for several seconds, but when the words were processed in his mind, a wicked flush of rage mottled his clear skin and the yellow of his eyes seemed to glow with promised pain. "Do not say that name!" He roared, struggling against the foot holding him firmly to the ground. "Never–" The boot upon his back shifted and a heavy knee fell against Erik's back, condemning the man to a state of silent half-consciousness, hardly aware of the man's growing smile and the sound of more captors surrounding him.

The blackness overthrew Erik's mind and he let his head sag against the stone floor. 'Christine...' He thought blankly, feeling hands upon his shirt and the sensation of being dragged across the rough ground.

'Where is Christine?'

Translation:

"God aften, Herr Gylfason"(Norwegian, by the way) – Good Evening, Mister Gylfason

NOTE: If I screw up translations, please let me know! I'm using online translators so.. Y'know... things like that are gonna happen x.x And this fic's got A LOT of them.