Author's Note: Hey fellow Phans! Well to As the Ribbon Waits, my fanfic for Phantom of the Opera. This Fic involves the 2004 half-masked Erik, Susan Kay's Phantom's history, but the deformation of the original Gaston Leroux Phantom. I also would like to say that I had to change Erik's age a bit to fit the characters and the story. Hope you guys like! If, you do, please leave me a comment, or if you have a tip or two for me, just do the same!
Chapter One:
Tears flooded over Erik's bare cheeks onto his soaked hands. They slowly gathered into the pure white mask in his lap making a small pond. His golden cat eyes, usually so powerful and elegant, were bloodshot from weeks of crying. They slowly peered around the storage room. It doubled as an emergency room, one that he himself had built for something of this very nature. Although now he though of it more as a prison.
The small area's walls were in fact shelves from floor to ceiling. They were filled with books, spare music sheets, food, and fabric. The materials in which surrounded him were pled, rather unorganized, on top of one another. Finely woven sheets were folded over more expensive satin spreads. Books were laid, with more care than the other objects, on top of stacks and stack of musical notes and scores. Jars of preserves were lined behind walls of intricate music boxes and yet more books.
Erik slowly stood, emptying the porcelain mask and replacing it to his half deformed face. He sighed wearily. He was going out of this prison cell whether he was caught or not. This was his rightful home. Well, maybe not exactly rightful, but it was his home.
Erik walked over to the northern book shelf and pulled back a dusty print, revealing a carefully detailed doorknob. Silently, he turned the knob, pulling back the entire shelf. He slowly peeked his head around, looking like a scared little boy and not his elegant 28-year-old self. He then stepped out, closing the door. Erik walked over to a brick with an old nail in the side. He pushed his thumb on the head of the nail, shoving it into the hole in the brick, in turn locking the door in place. The door now matched the brick chasm he was in.
Carefully, he padded along the dark maze, soon finding the entrance to his lair, a small black door. He turned the cool metal knob that stuck out into the wet darkness. He was then flooded with light from his beautiful home, or rather his once beautiful home.
Golden candle holders littered the stone floor. Stone busts lay shattered and destroyed, and did many mirrors. Satin curtains and expensively woven rugs lay torn or missing. As Erik looked at the engraved wooden tables and desk, he noticed newly engraved words, some making even him shudder in anger and sheer shock. But, he noticed with a smile, not one of his instruments seemed to be touched. The beautiful piano, an extravagant piece, stood midnight black in all the gloom. The romantic gold organ took up its usual wall, shiny as ever. His many violins and flutes stood presently, waiting to be played by his musical fingers.
"No doubt were they too afraid to touch the Phantom of the Opera's precious instruments," he muttered to himself, chuckling slightly.
He soon began to working in the musical room, parlor, and living room, which covered the entire front of the house. He would survey the bedrooms and bathrooms later, which were located in the back. Working for a few hours, he began to notice he would need to replace much of the furniture. Thank god the sofa, plush chairs, and a few of the rugs had been spared. But, he did notice he would need more candles, ink and a new ink well. He selected his cashmere opera cloak, threw the hood over his head, and walked down the corridor, ready to be done with his shopping. He had never really been a fan of it, but with nobody to do it for him; he was rather forced to do it himself. Well, I mine as well be done with it, he thought, and pushed into the door that led into the open street.
ERIK FLUNG THE DOOR OF THE shop open, eager to make his escape. He had his parcel of items under his arm, including a few new books to add to his collection, and was wanting to go back to the opera house, ready to leave the danger of his identity being revealed. He settled into a brisk walk, his long legs eating up the ground. He became lost in though, almost missing a few turns, until suddenly, and woman's beautiful voice broke into his thoughts.
He turned, searching for the melancholy sound. His eyes quickly caught up to his ears, settling on a beautiful brunette sitting on the ground a few feet away. Her beauty and voice not only took his breath away, but also his heart.
Tangled brown hair glittered with red fell past her shoulders. Tired jade green eyes flecked with brown looked around; pleading for change to fall in a small can on the ground. Milky white skin showed pale on her face and neck, looking even lighter against the torn and muddy white lace dress and the gaunt hunger of her frame. Pinkish full lips framed the hypnotizing notes in which she sang.
All too soon, for Erik at least, the song was over. Everyone in the small group surrounding her dropped a small bit of change in the can at her feet dropped a bit of change in the can and left to get about their errands. All but one dirty grimy man. One that Erik certainly didn't like the look of, and soon found out why.
The man immediately grabbed the hungry woman, aiming to rip off her thin dress. He fell, sprawling and sending the coins rolling into the gutters. Her screams and protests were weak, and fell unnoticed in the crowd of hurried people. The day was muggy, wet, and expecting of a storm.
Almost immediately Erik was on the man, pulling him off the woman. He punched him quite professionally in the jaw, grabbing his grimy jacket and pushing him against the wall. He quickly sliced a knife from his cloak, holding it against the man's throat. Then, seeing the fright in, what Erik now realized was, the young man's eyes, he stabbed the knife into the wooden wall of the cheap alley right beside his ear.
"Leave now, or else next time I shall not miss," Erik said with the hostility of a lion toward its prey. The man nodded and Erik released him. He ran off running into the street, eager to get away from the woman now.
Erik was quickly on his knees beside the woman. She was now crying almost hysterically, occasionally looking up at the metal can at her feet.
"It is alright mademoiselle, he is gone," Erik whispered soothingly. Suddenly she looked into his eyes and a look of shock overcame her.
"Erik," she whispered, hunger and exhaust overcoming her.
Now it was Erik's turn to be shocked. "Who are you?" he gaped.
"Kathalina," she whispered as she fell into a dead faint in Erik's arms. In a trance, he gathered her up, and slowly walked home.