Brief information:

Story type: Fanfiction of Gaston Leroux and somewhat Susan Kay

Setting: Gypsies' camp, 1841, based on Susan Kay's Phantom

Characters: Erik and Laura (mostly)

Who's Erik? : In both novels, a DEFORMED genius in music, composing, architecture, and the master of trapdoors. Deformed in the sense: no nose, yellow eyes (or mismatched in Kay's book), and resembles death.

Erik is the guy from the novel the Phantom of the opera. In the original novel, he is a bitter, lonely and a genius who resides in the underground part of the Opera Garnier. His only chance at love was with an eighteen year old soprano Christine Daae whom he personally groomed her singing talent, while hiding his identity as "the angel of music". Erik issued her an ultimatum of death with a quarter of Paris(he plans to blow the place up) or live with him. Erik gets a kiss, lets Christine off with her love the Viscount Raoul de Chagny and dies three weeks later.

In Susan Kay's Phantom, Erik life story began as a lonely child who ran away from home, found himself caught by gypsies, went to Persia, and finally resided in the Opera. He found Christine Daae who looked like his mother and fell in love with her. Unfortunately, it was unrequited love. He issued Christine an ultimatum but still let her off with her lover, Raoul De Chagny. Christine later came back with an invite to her wedding, and gave it to Erik. Erik, well, at that point in time was on the verge of death. Christine left, bearing his child who became a genius like Erik.

Who's Laura: Um...my character.


1841

Laura

"Stop pulling me Cera, I don't like gypsies!" I cried as she pulled me towards the tent. Mum always said that such places were cursed and gypsies worked for the devil. And, personally, I felt they were being just cruel with people by parading them and profiting from it. Utterly disgusting.

"Aww, is our little Laura scared?," said Cera mockingly. Sometimes I really wish I could punch that girl. But I could not. After all, she was my darling cousin. I must know my manners.

"I am not scared," I growled and a sudden courage grew in me. I will show this cousin a thing or two. After all, everyone has always deemed me to be the braver one. I would not let this little fear of gypsies get to me. I have my pride hanging on the line! Nearer and nearer Cera brought me to the gaudy coloured tent and faster and faster my heart beat. Oh lord, save me!

"Come on up little girls!" an ugly beefy man with scars said to us, smiling with a toothless grin that only flashed in the face of potential moneymaking opportunity. Cera grabbed a few coins and gave to him, and asked, "What's on show today?"

"Oh, this one is amazing, be careful not to get scared! This thing we have got in there is a real, big hit!" And cows would love to fly, I thought sarcastically. This man is clearly a buffoon. I hardly see anyone around to view this "amazing hit". It must be some silly person in ugly make up in there. The tent flap was lifted up.

"Introducing, The Living Corpse!" I felt my hair stand as I thought of what they had brought in. Mum was right. They must have brought in a devil! It must be one of those helpers of Satan!

When I saw him, my heart skipped a beat.

What a pitiful sight.

I heard the tent flap lift up and sunlight shone into the tent. Another bunch of kids with sticks, I presumed with indifference, sitting in a corner. How pathetic I felt, sitting in here, all caged up. I was covered in my own waste and I do not get a change of fresh clothing! No, monsters like Erik do not deserve new clothes! Things like Erik should just rot, like the living corpses they are!

I heard someone gasp in sadistic delight and I heard a stick hitting the metal bars of my cage. Another beating I supposed. I looked at my wounds and how the dried blood has crusted around them. Now I would simply look worse than ever before. Javert said they would pay to look at me but I would never expect this! Even my own mother would never treat me this way. She would just ignore me.

"Let's throw something at it," a cruel voice of a female child cried delightedly. That's right, Erik is not human, Erik is an 'it'. I felt something whizzed past me but I could not bother. Another rotten apple, I guess. Then another whizzed past me again, and again. The fourth one hit me, and I realised with sick horror that it was rotten eggs.

"Stop it Cera!" Another voice cried. Oh, so, perhaps for a moment this human girl would ask her friend to stop, so she herself would have the chance to throw an egg at poor little me. I would sit here you know, I wanted to say to them, Erik would sit here and let things be thrown at him, because Erik is nothing but a monster up for display. I wanted to curse myself, kick myself as hard as I could. My self-esteem that had been trampled on by others has been demoralized even further. Just look at me! I am in a cage! I am in a cage and I cannot do anything about it! Erik has resigned to fate. Erik is nothing but a burden to humanity.

But nothing came, just shouting. "Stop it, you hear me! Stop flinging those eggs at him. How would you like to have rotten eggs thrown at you?"

"Shut up, Laura, you are nothing but a ninny! You're a pathetic little girl." I felt myself tense. Someone else was called pathetic, someone who was not Erik.

"Cera, I am not a ninny. You should be glad that we are related by blood! Because if it were not so, pain shall be unto you! So, count it your luck!" I heard the sound eggs getting flung and splattered, and prepared for the worst. But none came.

"You shall pay for this, you stupid girl!" The voice that belonged to that girl named Cera cried and she stomped out of the tent.

"Are you alright?" the remaining human girl asked. I refused to budge. "It's okay, I won't hurt you."

"You would not be the first to promise that," I snapped and looked up at her, a sudden rage rising in me. "And you would not be the last to break those promises! Because look at me! I am a living corpse! I am death itself!" At this, she went pale. So now humanity has once again seen me! And then they shall all shun me! Is it not just splendid? I absolutely abhor people who speak to me as though they were sincere. But when they see, oh, when they see poor Erik's face, they immediately break their promises!

But then, I saw those watery brown eyes of hers.

I softened.