A different tale on the AUTHER KOPTIC's and MAURY YESTON's PHANTOM. I have improved the story now that I am older I have more experience and have critiqued this story as best as I know how. I hope you will reread it because there are some little added things.

Well, as a general, I have seen the movie version of Phantom with Charles Dance and I have seen the stage version. Just wanted to say that, in the movie Christine faints after seeing his face. In the stage version and mine she runs off in horror, leaving him to sing My Mother Bore Me.

Some of my descriptions might be different, as well. In the movie Christine has blond, wavy hair and in my version she has brown curly hair, and is alittle older than what the movie version looks like. My Phantom has the sexy black hair, and in the movie, it is red (which isn't bad, I have nothing against red heads!) Also in the movie Phillipe's last name is de Chagny. In the stage version and mine, it's de Chandon and my Phillipe has black, short hair too.

I do not own these characters in any way.

Okay, time for me to shut up! Please R&R!

The new and improved...

My True Love

Chapter 1: The Circus

The tight irons burned his wrists as he fought to free his redden hands. His arms were stretched out and chained to the opposite sides of the cage. He was in complete humiliation.

Laughter rang in his ears as people were gathered around to watch the unmasking. His eyes turned wearily over to his master as he unlocked the cage door with a devilish smirk across his face. The door opened and the crowd became quiet with excitement as the smelly, bearded man walked over to his kneeling victim.

Erik's eyes were filled with tears and fright as the man reached for his only protection and comfort in life, his mask. Erik sharply ducked his head out of Jaque's grasp, who growled and reached for it again.

Pleading cries called out from Erik's dry lips as Jaque grabbed hold of his jaw and took Erik's mask in his hand. He intended to mercilessly reveal his propority's face to the audience. With a wider smirk, Jaque ripped off Erik's mask and exclaimed, "Here you see the horror of the Devil himself!" Jaque faced the audience and pointed to the struggling Erik, who tried to hide his face.

Dropping his head to where it was almost painful on his neck, Erik wept. Tears were falling on the stale hay that bedded the cage.

Frustrated with Erik's performance, Jaque angrily grabbed Erik's jaw in his hand and thrust it upward in the light, revealing Erik's tear-stricken deformed face.

Laughing, sneering, and horrifying shrieks filled the large circus tent as they threw things at the chained man as if he were an animal. Not able to protect himself from the hateful scraps, glass, and food, Erik only winced and turned his head away from the crowd.

Jaque grew angry, took hold of the whip tucked behind his back and pulled it out. He thrust it in front of Erik's face then smiled at his victim.

With all his force, Jaque brought down the whip on Erik's bare back. The whole crowd sprung out in laughter...except for one in the very back of the room. Covered by a black cloak and hood, the figure left in pity as the beating began.

The entertainment was over. Everyone had gone. Remains of food and money were scatter on the floor and in the cage. Half unconscious and still chained in that painful position, Erik could hear the clinking of money and chuckles of greed as Jaque and his so called business partner, Maxine, counted their coins in the other room. They sat by the warmth of a fire with blankets wrapped about them and left Erik to shiver in the cold night, still chained in his cage. The breeze was harsh and treated him unkindly. It blew through the entrance flaps of the canvas, slithered through the bars of the cage, and wrapped itself around Erik. He shivered violently and cried out in the freezing breeze. This act gave a chance for the cruel breeze to sweep down his throat, swelling up his windpipe, and causing him wheeze and cough trying to open the passage way to get oxygen into his lungs. In his merciless position on the floor, he leaned back and looked up. His deformed face was glistening from painful tears as he remembered what Jaque did to him the first time he was to 'perform.'

"See what the devil himself has brought you!" Jaque threw his head back and laughed as he ripped off Erik's mask and spun him around to face the audience. In shackles, Erik tried to fight Jaque, but was defeated quickly when Jaque pulled out his whip and began beating him. When Erik shrunk back in the corner, Jaque laughed along with the audience. He ripped off Erik's shirt, grabbed him by the hair, and pulled him across the cage and out the door. Then with the most devilish grin, he thrust Erik into the audience. They shrank back as the 'performer' rolled to the ground.

Stumbling to stand up, he lost his balance and fell towards the crowd on the right. Some shrieked with fear, yet was enjoying the show. Erik began to stand up again, only to be knocked down by a sharp object that hit him in the head.

He stooped in a cat-like position to catch his breath with his head hung low. He felt the tickle of blood trickle down his forehead and drop to the ground. As he began to crawl back to his cage, a man grabbed him by the arm and pulled him to his feet, only to hit him in the stomach, sending him across the hard dirt floor. Suddenly everyone broke out with laughter and began beating him. Raging fists and sharp objects struck him.

Not knowing when it would end or if it would kill him, Erik looked up from the crowd and saw Jaque standing by his cage, watching the display. With tears streaming down Erik's face, he could only mouth a cry of "help me, please."

Jaque caught his plea and for a moment, he stood there watching. Erik didn't think he would raise to his defense, but then to his surprise, Jaque jumped onto the platform in the tent saying, "Good people! Listen! I encourage you to stop. I don't want you to kill my best selling performer."

Erik never knew if Jaque felt any pity for him. He didn't seem to show any kind of sympathy that night after everyone had beaten him and hadn't since.

Kneeling in his cage, Erik could feel the darkness beginning to overcome him. He had nothing left to live for. Why didn't he just give up and leave this world? He knew that wherever he would go, it would be far better than this miserable so called existence. It was not like he was far from death, not having food for several days, water placed just out of reach for him to drink, paraded around like an animal, and if that wasn't enough, the skin would be beaten off his back. His eyes grew heavy and the ground became blurry. This was it, death was his at last. No one could stop him now. His breath became slower as he looked into the darkness. Just then, in the back of his mind he heard a familiar voice. A glorious, soaring voice that sounded like an angel beckoning him to hold on...

"...I will hear your voice, and I'll see your brow, let me know your face, let me know it, Now! Now! Now!!" Turning around to face his only love, who was smiling down at him, he bent over to take off his mask. He slipped the tie off the back of his head and pulled the mask aside. Looking up into his true love's loving eyes, his heart sank when he saw those eyes turn to horror. Those blazing eyes that showed every morsel of fear followed by a terrifying, sad scream, echoing through the cavern as she ran off. Erik was left on his knees with his heart broken in two.

Oh, he would give anything to see his love again. He could barely remember what she looked like. It had been so long, two long years. He knew it was impossible to see her. He was sure she had run off to Count de Chandon's arms for protection. That miserable man who wooed Christine with his so called charms.

Just then, in that moment of his last breath, he stopped. The sound of soft crunching hay and the slight clink of metal on metal made him fight a little longer for life. With all the strength he had left, he wearily raised his head. Through his blurry vision, he saw a black figure sneaking into the tent and quietly gliding over to his prison. The long billowing cape glided over the surface of the ground giving the illusion that the stranger was floating.

He became afraid and confused. What if this person was attempting to steal him away from this, only to display him in another freak show?

The figure revealed from under the long cloak, a ring with dangling keys.

Still not able to see the strangers face, the figure glanced about to make sure no one was coming, then focused on the lock.

Fingering through them and placing several in the lock, the stranger became impatient and let out a huff of frustration when none seemed to fit. At the sixth one the rescuing click sounded in his pounding ears. The door squeaked open as the rusty metal scratched against more metal. The rescuer slithered through the slightly ajar bars and glided over to the first shackle on his right arm.

Hearing a click, the iron cuff fell off his wrist exposing raw skin to the cold night breeze. As the figure worked on the other iron, Erik winced as he slowly lowered his right arm. Having been in that position for some time, it pained him to move it down to his side.

Looking up at the hooded figure, he struggled to bring up the strength to talk. His voice reduced to a hoarse whisper as he forced the words, "Who--are---you?"

"Shh!" the stranger ordered softly but firmly. Another click and the other iron fell to the floor. Now with no support to keep him up, he fell over and muffled his cry of pain as the hay stung his raw back.

Still hidden, the figure quickly dropped to the floor and carefully cradled him. There was no word from the hidden rescuer. Erik could feel the heavy stare of his rescuer and he buried his face in the cloak. More tears formed in his heavy, swollen eyes.

He was startled when a soft gentle hand touched his chin and turned his head slowly back to the rescuer's eyes. He was surprised at being handled so gently. He found comfort and protection in this stranger's lap.

Finally putting away his humiliation, he opened his eyes and stared in the black hood. Two soft, glowing, blue eyes were gazing upon him. They weren't harsh, mocking eyes, but full of compassion and sorrow. He squinted his eyes to see the face of this selfless person. Slowly the outline of soft features, then a delicate nose and warm soft lips appeared.

He gasped in disbelief, shock, and amazement as a long brown curl escaped from under the hood and bounced in the air above his head. Breathing rapidly with excitement and fear - for what if this was a dream - he whispered, "Christine!?!"