I don't own The Phantom of the Opera in movie, theater, or book form.
(Four Years Before Erik reveled himself to Christine.)
A piercing wail echoed through the deserted and dark streets. Light snow fall muffled the cries so no sound could be heard through the windows. Only one being heard the pleas for attention.
Black boots crunched softly on the freshly fallen snow. A cape of the same shade hit the backs of his boots as he descended down the street. Light from light posts illuminated the path the stranger took just enough for the man to see a basket in the distance. The basket sat under a red canopy, keeping the snow from touching the bundle that laid in it.
The stranger in black the distance from the basket with brisk paces. Before him, wrapped in a thin white blanket, was an infant girl squirming and gasping for air as she screamed for her dear life. The cloth around her was doing her no justice in keeping the cold air from her fragile skin.
The man cocked his head to the right, "This was the cry of pain and sorrow I had heard? An infant? Out here?" He scanned the surrounding area, finding not a single soul. His gaze retreated back to the child, "It looks like you were abandoned as well my dear." The baby whimpered in reply before crying out once more.
In curiosity, the man bent down to one knee and reached out a gloved hand. He caressed her left cheek with his thumb. The babe's cries died down as she gawked up at this masked man with large, cold grey eyes. The man's own hard eyes softened. Something caught his eye when he pulled his hand way. Three long scars ran down from under the child's eye down to her cheek.
A sad smile graced the man's lips, "I was not the only one who was not wanted little one." He rubbed the soft flesh tenderly. The baby's lower lip began to quiver. The masked man shushed the girl softly and picked her up with such care.
Short locks of white hair poked out of the blanket. The grey eyes glimmered in the light as the bundle was picked up. The Phantom lifted from the ground and cradled her with the utmost affection. He wrapped the child with his cape. The girl's eyes began to fall slowly as the warmth greeted her; calling her to sleep.
The Phantom brushed her hair back with his free hand, "You and I have many similarities," He spoke to the child, slowly making his way to his opera house, "We both have a disfigurement on one side of the face. We have no one to care or nurture us. No parents or friends. No one to love us. I won't do that to you though, child. I shall keep you from the cruel world and of the evil people who live in it. I shall give you all of the talent I can give you in the arts, in strategy strength."
He watched the child's chest raise and fall as she slept. He whispered, "As long as you stay with me, child, I shall love and protect you from the injustices that people can give for all of the days in time. That, I promise you my sweet...Anya; my Dark Angel."
He reached the entrance to his lair. He pushed up the iron bars and ducked into his cave.
Inside of his little make shift home, he placed Anya on his bed, surrounding her in pillows. He placed a small blanket onto her small form and stood over her, "I shall be back child." With a swish of his cape, he was gone.
Madame Giry had a long day at rehearsal. The singers were off key, the dancers were clumsy, and the props weren't made in time. It happened to everyone and she shouldn't get so tense over a silly thing. The day of opera weren't for another week. They were fine, so she told herself.
She couldn't have been more relieved when she ended up in her quarters. Madame Giry shuffled her sore feet to her window and watched the remaining snow fall. Just as she began to relax she sighed in frustration, "Speak what you want Erik, I am rather frustrated and I don't want to deal with you."
She turned to face the boy she saved those many years ago. The Phantom stood with his cape draped over both of his arms. He was not surprised that the old hag could sense him. They had both gotten use to each other to know how the other thinks, well, almost. Erik's lips thinned till only a line showed before speaking, "I found an infant on the streets. I have decided to keep her. I need milk of some sort to feed her, and clothes as well." This was more of a statement than a request.
Madame Giry's face widened in shock for a moment (much like the time she found out he was tutoring Christine) before turning professional, "You know where the small kitchen is. Take one bottle; that should serve your needs for two days or three. As for clothes, I will go into town tomorrow to buy some for you." The dark man nodded in acknowledgment. Before he turned to go, she rested a hand on his shoulder, "What is her name? The child?"
The man stood silent before saying, "Anya, my Dark Angel." With that, he disappeared into the hallway, probably heading down one of those secret hallways.
Madame Giry shook her head; I hope this child would make you sane Erik.
I hope that this was sufficient enough.
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