"My love… do not cry, oh please, do not cry…"

The cold winter's wind blew hard through the Parisian streets. A winter storm like this was fairly uncommon in France, and certainly most of the city's people had never seen it snow this much. The blizzard was ruthless; snow coated the streets and pebbles of what felt like ice struck the poor faces of those who were forced to be outside. It was horrid. The wind blew so hard that it knocked some people over or froze them almost immediately. Anyone who dared to be outside in this cold was either hurrying home from work, or homeless on the streets, but even most of the beggars had found a place to stay for the night.

Unless you were the most unfortunate in the city at this time. And that was no other than a young woman, a girl who had not seen twenty years yet. She stumbled through the blistering cold, carrying an old, torn satchel close to her heart. She held to it for dear life, not wanting whatever could be inside to be harmed.

Christine Daaé had once been the talk of the town. A rising star, they'd called her. She was said to have the world's greatest voice.

But no one talked about her that way now.

Only less than a year ago, Christine had been that rising star. She'd received the leading role at Paris's most famous Opera House, starring as Elisa in Hannibal. Oh, she'd been phenomenal, and everyone thought so as well! She continued to rise, receiving other roles from companies all over Europe, but being the humble woman she was, she stayed in Paris.

Although, things were not always happy for Christine.

Behind the curtain, she was leading a life that only she knew about, at least for a while. She'd been taking lessons in private with a man no one else had seen before. Even Christine hadn't known his name until their last night together.

Oh, that night… she'd went down for her usual music lesson, excited to hear the new piece he had composed for her. She called him her Angel of Music, for she didn't know his name and to her, he was an angel. The tall, lean man sat at his organ as she entered his realm, only a few candles lighting the room. "Angel…" she had called, causing him to turn to her. He stood then and greeted her, his mask glowing in the candlelight. "Mademoiselle…" he returned, bowing and placing a polite kiss on her hand.

Their music lesson had started like any other, doing scales and a few warm ups. But then, he had told her to take a seat on the bench, for he wanted to play his music for her. Christine was ecstatic, for she'd been looking forward to hearing his new composition for weeks!

He begun to play, and Christine was taking into the wonderful world of the Angel's music. Oh, but then he began to sing… his voice was heavenly! The most beautiful she'd ever heard! She simply melted, her heart speeding up as she began to feel something she'd never felt before…

Right as his song ended, the man turned to Christine, finding that she already had her big, brown eyes locked onto his golden orbs. Before he knew it, she had pressed her soft lips against his malformed ones, taking him in for the best and first kiss of his life.

The kiss never ended, either. Before either of them knew it, they had left the organ and found themselves in his own room, atop of a beautiful canopy bed. They had made their own music that night, and in the afterglow of their love, Christine had asked him his name.

"Erik," he'd whispered, his soft, angelic voice filling her ear. He'd begun to sing her a sweet lullaby, and soon, Christine had fallen into a delicate slumber.

Now, as she pushed her way through the cold winter wind, she could still hear his voice whispering his name to her. "Erik…"

That was the last time she saw her angel. She awoke in the morning alone, and not in the beautiful canopy bed. Christine found herself clothed in her dressing room, sleeping on the small cot the Opera House provided her when she'd stay the night. She panicked, thinking the last night was a dream, but when she went to her dressing mirror, she found that it had been all real. Little marks covered the side of her of her neck, reminding Christine of her Angel's soft lips.

But where was he? Why was she in her dressing room? How had she gotten there?please, don'

Christine had quickly gotten up, trying to open the mirror and calling for Erik. She didn't understand how she had gotten up there, and the only thing she could think of was that Erik did it. She pressed her hands to the glass and called his name for what felt like hours, but there was no response. She frowned and returned to her dressing table, unsure of what to do and hoping that Erik would return to her. She waited nearly all day long, sitting and staring. Of course, she had attempted to keep herself entertained, but it was no use.

Sadly, Erik never returned to her. Not that day, nor the next. Weeks passed, months passed… and Erik never came back. Christine had even tried to get down to his lair, but always found it to be empty and the boat to be gone, so she could never get across. And of course, she didn't know how to open the mirror, so she couldn't go that way, either.

Thankfully, today was different for her. Christine saw the outline of the enormous opera house in front of her, behind all of the snow and wind. She quickly hurried towards the building, traveling the perimeter to find some way to sneak inside. Finally, after searching and searching, she saw what looked like a small, rod Iron Gate peeking out from a small snowbank. She got on her knees, still clinging to the satchel as she dug through the snow with her free hand. Though Christine found that this was not a gate… it was a little window! Oh, God had shown mercy on her poor soul! She quickly climbed in, slipping through the tight space and landing about seven feet below on the cold floor in a dark room.

Christine slowly stood and looked around, not exactly where in the building she was. There was a dim candlelight coming from a hallway on her left, and she quickly followed the light, hoping it would lead her someplace safe, maybe even towards the dressing rooms!

After following down the hall for nearly ten minutes, Christine found that it was getting darker and damper. Was she entering the cellars?

Her question was soon answered when she saw in the distance the gleam of water… the underground lake! His lair was near here, she had finally made her way down!

Looking off to the shore, Christine saw what she'd been looking for for months. Erik's boat was tied up on the post, bobbing slowly in the wading water. Had he returned? Or had he really never left until recently? Not caring for an answer at this time, Christine hurried to the boat, climbing in and weakly rowing towards the lair.

As soon as the boat was on the other side, Christine climbed out and made her way inside of Erik's home. "Erik!" she called, nearly out of breath, her feet, hands, and cheeks still feeling numb. "Erik, are you present?"

But there was no answer. The home was dark, the few candles that still burned were nearly out of wax and wick. It was obvious someone hadn't been here for a long time…

Christine was defeated. She sunk to the floor and began to cry, and her cries were soon matched by much smaller ones.

She set the satchel in her lap and quickly opened it, lifting her newborn child into her arms and rocking it slowly. "My dear, oh my child, forgive me…" she said softly, tears rolling down her frozen cheeks. "Forgive me…"