What if Christine was not the first woman in Erik's life to bring warmth to his heart? What if there was someone within the traveling fair who knew him before Madame Giry rescued him? This is the tale of Anya Romanoff.

I do not own any thing from the Phantom of the Opera, only my character Anya Romanoff.

Shouts, yelling, jeering, all of the most obnoxious noises sounded off in a poorly conducted harmony. The hay beneath her was crisp and uncomfortable. Gypsies wheeled the girl on horse and buggy while she remained unconscious in her cage. They had made bundles of gold with her freakish nature. 'Eden's Curse' they called her. A girl who could sprout pure white wings from her back, but of course it was considered demonic. Therefore she was dubbed, 'Eden's Curse.'

Anya

When the lids shielding my eyes finally opened, everything was blurry and in motion. Swaying images of figures everywhere and the constant yells of voices were urging me to look and see, but my vision never ceased to stop its cruelty. When finally the images became clear, I found that I was indeed in a cage. I slowly lifted my head from what I felt was hay and sat up as quickly as my body would allow. Finally, I had regained control of my senses and observed where I was.

I already knew the fact that I was in a cage, but I soon saw a crowd of people gathered around my prison all pressed up against the bars. The people had an anxious look upon their face, some were even confused as to why a child of 7 would be in there. Finally, a sound was heard and silence filled the tent like structure as a man with a foreign accent spoke.

"Come one, come all and see Eden's Curse herself!" His voice tinged with mystery and greed.

I whirled around to see the man. He was indeed a gypsy with a black scruffy beard, balding head, ragged clothes and a whip in his hand. I slowly backed myself up on all fours against the wooden containment door, wishing to get away. He smirked and advanced towards me, yanking my hair in the process. He threw me onto my stomach, raising his arm in the process only to feel the sting of the whip on my rag clothed back.

"Ah! Please stop!" I tried begging him to cease his abuse, for I knew what he wanted. He wanted to see the very curse that was placed upon me. My wings. Some people outside of the cage were skeptical, seeing nothing physically wrong with me, they were close to telling him to stop. Until my back could no longer bare the sting of the unforgiving leather. The bird like structures tore through my tendons, muscles and bone, freeing themselves. The man ceased his abuse as people jeered and cursed at my new form of physicality.

"Freak!"

"Demon!"

"Devil!"

"Die with the rest of your kind!"

What rest of my kind? There was absolutely no one like me, no one with the kind of burden I had to face since birth. I let my tears fall, feeling the blood run down my back and into the hay. I could feel people tossing hard coins at me, mainly to pay for the show but also to put me in pain. I finally allowed my body to fall back onto the hay, as I slowly drifted into s state of sleep.

Erik

It's been 6 long years since I have been a part of this horrid place. I was but only 5 when my mother sold me for a sack of coins, unable to accept my face's horror. This burlap bag concealed my shame for only so long before that gypsy man would come and rip it off again. I cast my eyes down to the small monkey I created from pieces and fragments in my cage, some from objects thrown at me. I gently tapped it's symbols together, trying to put a tune in the air of night.

But the silence did not last, for there was shouting of names that would usually be directed at me. I gently placed the doll down and pressed myself against my cage to see what had happened. The crowd was gathered around a new 'attraction' as the gypsies here called it, their cries of horror and laughing echoed into the air. A sign hung on the cage that read 'Eden's Curse.' The gypsy man whipped something in the cage, but I could not see with the people surrounding it. Finally after 20 minutes, people began to disperse from the cage and allowed me to see what laid inside.

My eyes widened, and my heart clenched painfully at what I saw. A girl, almost my age lay there, bloody and forgotten in the hay. She had waist length chestnut hair and a small frail frame. But what drew me in, were the white bloody wings that lay on the hay and connected to her back. Her burlap dress had been bloodied and torn, and her face had paled more than those who had ever gazed upon my own. Another gypsy came over to me, a scowl upon his face. He ripped open my cage and bound me tightly. With nothing but a grunt he led me over to the girls cage and with one hand unlocked her confinements. He threw me along with a water rag into her prison and spoke.

"Clean her up boy! We don't need any more demon blood to stain our grounds." He laughed loudly and walked off, spitting along the way.

I finally softened my glare when my eyes turned to the girl inches before me. I made steady and slow crawling motions towards her in case she awoke. To my surprise, she did. Her eyes revealed to be the most beautiful shade of violet I have ever seen. They weren't too dark and they were not too light, but a soft amethyst. She instantly whimpered, thinking I was to cause harm to her. I gently calmed her as best as I could.

"Shh, it's alright…I won't hurt you. I' m in here to help you." My voice was soft and rid of its anger from the past years. This girl had an effect on me, and she had not even said a word to make it so. I gently set her head into my lap, so her stomach would be facing the ground.

"This will hurt somewhat, but I promise to be as gentle as possible." I soothed her with one hand stroking her tangled hair, and gently set the wet rage to her back and wings.

"Ow! Mmph!" She muffled her cries, trying to be strong and get through the pain. My heart once again was squeezed by an invisible force at her pain. I continued to stroke and smooth out her hair, soothing her the best that I could.

"I' m sorry! Are y-you alright?" I stuttered, hoping that the pain wasn't too great for her sake. Her eyes found mine through the bag I wore…and…and she smiled. The most beautiful image I had ever seen.

"I-I'm o-kay….really." Her voice was so fragile, so innocent. An angel's voice. I smiled gently under the bag and continued to treat her wounds with care. Her wings slowly folded into her back after 30 minutes of cleaning her. I slowly helped her sit up and let her lean against me. Her head rested on my bare shoulder and the rest of her body lay limp against me. I kept one hand behind her head and another on her back, keeping her steady and safe.

"What's y-your name?" Her voice was still so weak, but held such purity that I had not heard since childhood. I looked down from my eye holes and smiled.

"My name is Erik, what's yours if I may ask?" I wanted to know more than anything, something within my heart needed to know.

"Anya." Was her response before she gently eased herself from my arms. She sat up and leaned in toward me, examining the bag concealing my face. Her amethyst eyes searched my green ones, as if silently asking why I hid my face. So I answered her silent question with a gentle reply.

"I am quite hideous Anya. If you saw my face, you would probably scream." Her eyes still held that same innocence and curiosity as if now asking to see my face. She had been through a horrible night, I did not know if I could bring her any more horror. She twiddled her thumbs in anxiety and asked in her soft voice.

"Please, I want to know the only person who has ever shown me kindness. Please?" Her request was so small yet so big at the same time. I sighed and hesitantly brought my hands to the bag, finding that I could not deny her for some reason. Perhaps because of the treatment she endured tonight? No, it was somehow deeper than that…something I could not yet explain. I slowly lifted the bag off of my head and placed it into my lap. My eyes were clenched tightly, as the seconds ticked by with no sound what so ever. Suddenly I felt it, a hand, small and frail on my scarred cheek. I opened my eyes to see Anya touching my scarred cheek with kindness in her eyes.

"I don't see why you think you are hideous. I see nothing wrong with your face at all Erik. You are more beautiful than you know." Those words were ones that I would not forget for the rest of my life.

Anya

It had been 6 months since I became an attraction to the traveling fair, and Erik had become very protective of me. He would always clean me up and hold me after each show, singing to me softly. It hurt me greatly to see others laugh at him while the gypsy man beat his lean body, such a horrible thing to watch. On those nights, I would be in charge of taking care of him and gradually, I began singing to him. He always said how I was his angel, mon petit ange he called me. But I longed for us both to be free, and soon my very wish came true.

We were in Paris as the new entertainment, what else would we be? The gypsies would show Erik before they did me this night. I held his hand through the bars, our cages close to each other. I let a few tears fall, just as I did before every show. But they were not for my sake but for Erik, he was more ashamed of what he was then I. His eyes softened from beneath his bag and he used his other hand to wipe away the tears.

"I'll be okay mon ange. After this show, no matter my pain, I will sing to you as you've never heard me before. I promise." With that his cage was wheeled out into the open and away from me.

Erik

I sat there as the people of France swarmed my cage, intrigued by the 'Devil's Child' sign that introduced me. A young ballerina stood against the bars and looked at me with pity and sadness. I held her gaze for a few seconds but looked down again to my small toy monkey, tapping it's symbols gently. The gypsy man came into my cage and kicked the toy out from my grasp, beating me with his can like object. Finally after 10 minutes of beating me, he removed my burlap bag, showing my face to the residents of France.

"The devil's child!" His voice was dark and amused. I quickly retrieved the bag and placed it over my head, as people threw money into my cage. One by one, they all began to leave. The last to go was the ballerina, slowly letting her hand slip away from my confinements. Once her back was turned, I noticed a rope tied on my cage, the one they wheeled me out with. I untied it while the gypsy counted his wealth, and quietly snuck up behind him.

'You will hurt us no more!" I thought angrily in my head. I put the rope around his neck harshly, and began to strangle him. He made gurgling noises and tried to resist, but I would not let him live after what he's done to Anya and I. He finally fell dead at my feet, motionless as a board. I picked up my toy that lay by him and stood up, only to see the ballerina girl standing there in shock. I quickly took his, opened my confinements and ran to Anya's cage in the process, the ballerina not far behind.

"Anya!" I called her sweet name only to see her head snap up in surprise. She screamed, along with the ballerina. I turned to see a gypsy man with a look of horror on his face. I then ran the rest of the way to her cage, the ballerina gripping my hand.

"Anya, no! I won't leave without you!" I could never leave her, I wouldn't be the same without my angel, my friend, my….

"Erik please, just go! I promise I'll see you again someday, I promise! GO!" Her voice was desperate and I had no choice but to obey, for the police were coming. I gave her hand a final squeeze and ran with the ballerina girl, to my new life, and away from my love.