Disclaimer: I absolutely do NOT own, nor do I gain any monetary subsidies, for this fan fiction story. The characters, setting, names belong to the author that created them (Leroux, Kay), BUT the plot is all mine! I also do not own any rights or gain monetary subsidies to Batman. That belongs to Bill Finger, Bob Kane, and DC Comics.

Author's Note: I know it has been forever since anyone has heard or seen from me! I apologize. Once again, life has found me and kept me busy for the past few months. Anyhow, thanks so much for reading, reviewing, and I hope that you all continue to do so.

Enjoy and as always, REVIEW!

"What are you seeking?"

Henri Ducard

"I seek the means to fight injustice, to turn fear against those who prey on the fearful."

Bruce Wayne

Chapter Three-The Guardian's Guilt

"So, I take it, Sir, that dogs were involved?" Aldred questioned the deformed man as the butler entered the bedroom suite where the wounded man tended to some bite wounds. Erik's cool gold eyes flickered as he nodded curtly to the older man who regarded him with utter indifference.

"You missed another corporate meeting, sir. The heads of the corporations are not pleased with your…disappearing acts…"

Merely shrugging his shoulders, Erik calmly responded, "I am a busy man, Aldred. I have many other businesses and companies of which I must attend."

The older man set the tray of medical supplies on the coffee table in front of the chair where Erik sat and coyly remarked, "Your companies have been neglected since a masked vigilante has taken to the streets to rid Gorham of crime."

"Aldred, please, I do not need you to judge me for…"

"I have no intention of judging you, Mr. Desslar. I merely stated a fact. If you wish to continue as the masked avenger, then you can do so…but you cannot neglect your business. To do so could cast suspicion on your self."

Sighing heavily, Erik agreed as he put some antibiotic on his wound before placing gauze on it.

"I understand what you are saying, Aldred. Nevertheless, I cannot negate my role as Gorham's Guardian. There is no alternative to this…"

Once he was finished bandaging himself, he rose from his sitting position and motioned for his butler to follow him out of the immensely dark bedroom.

As the two men entered the center living area where an almost movie size flat screen television hung over the mantle, Erik turned it on to the local news. A young female reporter with blue eyes and blond hair stood outside one of the many local banks where a myriad of police lights and sirens were going off. Once the news station signaled her, she began her report.

"I am Becky Lowery with GCNS channel 6 news reporting live on the scene where four lone gunmen stormed the Gorham National Bank earlier in a botched attempt to rob the bank. Yet, early and unsubstantiated reports from witnesses have said a masked man in all black stopped the gunmen in a heroic act of bravery before vacating the scene. Here with me is the local police lieutenant, Peter Sherman. Lt. Sherman, can you tell me about the rumors of this masked man?"

Lt. Sherman stood next to the blond reporter in obvious discomfort. He had never been one to enjoy standing in front of crowds of people. The lieutenant was a short man with graying brown hair and a scrawny stature. Yet, many people respected him for his unwavering stance on getting rid of criminals.

His small brown-rimmed glasses flickered, as he responded in his low authoritative tone, "Listen to me, Gorham City, I urge you to not mimic this vigilante. The Gorham Police Department does not condone vigilante justice. This man may have stopped these lone gunmen today, but he put other people, the victims, in jeopardy by doing so."

Becky, undeterred, continued her questioning, "Did this masked man save the bank from robbery, Lieutenant?"

Shifting uncomfortably, Peter answered, "Yes, he did. But again, I urge the public…"

Yet, Becky interrupted, "This masked man also has saved nine people's lives, helped the police capture four high ranking mafia members, and virtually stopped the local drug trade in our low-end neighborhoods. Is all of this information also correct?"

The police officer reddened as embarrassment and anger overflowed his system, "Well, yes he has, but he is a menace to our society…"

"How can this masked man be a menace when he has done nothing but good for our city? I say if this masked man wishes to help rid the city of criminals, then he should keep doing so."

Before Peter could object, the reporter cut him off, "This is Becky Lowery from GCNS channel 6 news reporting from Gorham National Bank. Back to you, Rob."

Flicking the news off, Erik turned towards his oldest friend who shook his head before speaking, "Master Desslar, you seem to be making enemies with our men in blue…Yet the public is intrigued by this…man of mystery."

Looking down at the tile floor, the deformed features appeared disinterested as he shrugged. Suddenly, the rich man's cell phone rang. The person calling left a message and he saw the message was from Madame Giry. She was the head of the material division of Desslar Enterprises, and facilitated the creation of Erik's preliminary suit. He had called her earlier two weeks ago to order a more advanced version of his suit.

"Mr. Desslar, your gift as requested is ready at the MD at Desslar Enterprise. Feel free to visit me after your appointment with the laboratory division later today. Thank you. I will see you soon. Good bye."

Snapping his phone shut, Erik nodded towards the butler before abruptly leaving the room to head towards his Porsche in the garage. Aldred simply sighed and sat down knowing he would have to notify Christine that Erik stood her up for dinner again. This would make the third time this week his young stooge had disappointed her.

Staring out the immense front yard, the old man merely watched the fading red taillights with a rare lackadaisical attitude before speaking to himself softly, "I sure hope you know what you're doing, Erik…If you are not careful, you will lose the only woman that loves you."

~Downtown Gorham City Laboratory~

"We are so pleased that you agreed to join us, Mr. Desslar. I wanted to show you the vast improvements that I helped made to the laboratory since you first hired me," said the pompous corporate braggart, Frond Hualon, owner of the Lab's east division.

Erik simply nodded, uninterested in the hot air the man was spewing in his direction. As they trailed down the dimly lit hallway to the lab's research division, the deformed man's attention was everywhere else but the grey-haired man, Frond Hualon, next to him who was still talking about all of his so-called accomplishments.

Before they could enter the research lab, a bumbling scientist who could have been the perfect poster child of science geek rushed up to the tense billionaire. Grabbing his hands, the balding scientist beamed, "Mr. Desslar, I am SO pleased that you are here, finally! I have been itching to show you my new invention!"

Hualon merely glared at the short-statured scientist with disgust and anger before he chided him, "Melvin, return to your post. You do not need to be a nuisance to Mr. Desslar."

But Erik interjected, "No..no..Tell me Melvin, what is this new invention?"

Melvin, barely thirty-one and a foot shorter than the billionaire, snorted with delight as he led them to his office in the corner. Once in the cubicle, Melvin brought up the blueprints and scientific research he had compiled on his computer as Erik briefly skimmed it.

The socially awkward scientist then retrieved a small environmentally safe container from the temperature-controlled freezer and explained his most "greatest" creation in his signature nasal voice.

"Mr. Desslar, my name is Melvin Wyatt and this invention will change the face of our modern military as we know it. Using the base components of VX nerve gas, I was able to form a gas that can incapacitate an enemy within a short period of seconds. This is one way to eliminate the need for weapons to be used by our men in military. I knew you would be thrilled by this due to your public disapproval and aversion to guns."

Erik's blood ran cold in his body before he exploded in rage, "You idiot! You cannot be serious? Do you realize what you are talking about is chemical warfare!"

The deformed man's face turned purple as he hurled the desk over, spilling miscellaneous contents on the floor. The lab assistants stood rigidly still, stunned by this sudden outburst by the normally placid Desslar.

Pointing in the quivering scientist's face, Erik screamed, "You would kill millions! This gas will cause countries to go to war!"

Turning to his right, he addressed the two security officers who just entered the lab, "I want every document, and every stockpile of this gas destroyed or properly disposed of this instant! While you are at it, make sure Mr. Wyatt is escorted off my property immediately."

At that point, Erik turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, trying to lower his boiling blood pressure while security officers followed their boss's orders. Soon the lab and the lab assistants resumed their every day work.

Melvin still trembled from the rage exhibited by his idol. Years of worship and dedication, he had put in to astonish his idol with his creation. How could he yell at him about this? How could his hero just treat him and his greatest accomplishment as if they were trash? The man stood rigidly still as his nervous system went into overload mode.

As an intern, Melvin had worked one on one with patients at Gorham's insane asylum, and had talked with an infamous serial killer that first started killing after he lost his child due to a clerical mistake at the hospital. The killer, Andres Delphin, had told Melvin the moment he knew his sanity disappeared.

"Dr. Wyatt, a person can lose his mind…you know…But it's not like the medical books tell you…It's actually quite the opposite. In my case, I was overwhelmed with grief and living had become so, so very hard. To live was to undergo severe difficulty. The bills piled up, I hit the wife for her weakness, and the house was being foreclosed upon."

After this statement, his tone darkened to the utter depths of cold indifference when he told of his insanity, "Then I lost my only aspect of happiness in this hell of a world—Jenny—The moment I saw her dead body on the slab at the morgue was the moment when everything became so simple…Like…I mean… A switch was flipped all of the sudden…My world went from roaring in my head all day to complete silence…It was rather peaceful, you know, going from a man with so many roles to a man with one—to be a murderer."

Pausing, he grinned venomously, "There is no justice, no fairness in this world, doctor…Only injustice…Life is irrelevant…Life is a joke…There isn't any life so why would I care about other people, taking it away? I wanted to kill all the bastards who do not appreciate life—prostitutes, corporate bosses, rich celebrities, teenagers …" Andres suddenly stared into Melvin's frightened eyes, "and of course, my stupid weak wife…"

Melvin suddenly found Andres' words to be true. The roaring noise of his past words, memories, warm feelings, and respect for life just…clicked off…in an instant. The transition was sweet and victorious like the feeling of warm rain after the storm triumphed over the sun. It was so smooth…Dr. Wyatt swiftly found insanity was like the taste of warm bread to the starving man—euphoric and peaceful.

Melvin's world of sounds, you know, the irrelevant sounds our world hears every day…the ones that people don't always acknowledge but know are there…Well, imagine complete silence taking over and what remained as the only sound was simply…white noise, static.

Yes, that is what Melvin only heard amidst the demolition of his life's work around him. His reaction was just simply to smile. He simply smiled as he watched Desslar, his only hero, shred every document of his gas, his life's work; he simply smiled as men in protective gear take the stockpiles of his gas to eliminate properly; hell, he even smiled when security threw him out in the cold weather with nothing but his empty briefcase. Why did this scientist smile?

Because he knew…

He knew life did not exist…and neither did heroes.

~Paris, France: local Café des Dues Magots~

Former district attorney, Philippe de Chagny sat at his favorite local café, drinking his usually black coffee while reading the international paper. He did not hear much good news from Gorham City these days…

Yet, a small article in the crime section caught his eye. Written by Alexander James Wayne, a well-known investigative reporter in Gorham, the article described a new justice seeker that was captivating the city.

Since early this year, a masked vigilante has taken Gorham City by storm. Capturing the criminals even our police force could not capture, this masked man has taken thirty-eight murderers, forty-five major drug cartels, and sixty-two mobsters into local custody.

What's more amazing is this masked man's skill in apprehending these suspects…Police reports indicated that this masked justice seeker has caught ALL men without use of any weapon, common ones like tasers, guns, or knives. Also extraordinary is the fact he has caught these criminals, all of which had one of the above weapons without the use of his own.

Simply using "kung fu" as Deputy Turk Dunnigham put it, this masked person incapacitated the criminals…

Lt. Sherman still made his stance clear at a press conference last Tuesday evening, reportedly declaring, "This masked avenger, as the media likes to report, is nothing but a menace to our streets. He may catch criminals, but he is still going outside the laws to do it. Wrong is wrong no matter how much good can come from it…"

I am simply left to question this: is this masked vigilante a friend…or fiend? I suppose only time will tell…Until then, we can only wait.

"Is there something wrong, brother?" A soft but deep voice questioned across from Philippe de Chagny who set the paper down abruptly. Looking at Raoul, Philippe merely smiled and shook his head.

"No, my dear brother, nothing at all is wrong. I am just intrigued by a certain masked Gorhamite who has suddenly appeared out of nowhere, wiping crime off the street faster than even I did a year ago."

"I know you want to go home, Phil. You love Gorham even with its…problems."

Shaking his head slowly, Philippe spoke harshly, "No. Gorham is an unsalvageable city that will always be overrun by criminals. Soon enough this vigilante will quit or get killed trying to save that city. Heroes never last…Heroes are mortal, meant to fail at some point."

Raoul never understood Philippe's morbid fascination with his job; that job had cost him a wife and children. Yet, he secretly admired and envied his big brother for his extensive ambition. While Philippe remained adamant about being happy in Paris, Raoul knew his brother's heart longed for his real home thousands of miles away.

~Christine's Apartment in Upper Gorham City~

A loud knock made Christine jump slightly. She had been pouring over her law books, looking for precedents in her newest case. Her life had suddenly been taken over by cases since her partner left the country. She was beginning to notice how lonely she was feeling after Erik's constant standing her up the past few weeks.

Opening the door, she was startled to find a man holding three dozen roses in front of his face. A deep but familiar melodic voice spoke behind the floral arrangement, "These lovely smelling foliages are for the beautiful Christine Daae and are accompanied by a sincere apology for an Erik Desslar for being so rude and negligent."

Smiling she took the vase and coyly retorted to a revealed Erik Desslar, "It's going to take more than flowers for my forgiveness."

Whipping a velvet box from behind his back, he followed her inside where she sat the flowers down on her small kitchen counter. Turning towards the deformed man, Christine noticed the box and gasped, "Erik, you didn't have to…"

"Yes, I did. You have not deserved my lack of attention lately…I wanted to give you this as a sign of my appreciated and lo—loyalty to our friendship."

Puzzled by his abnormal verbal slip-up, she ignored it, smiling, and opened the velvet box. Inside she found a gorgeous white gold necklace with a large sapphire tear drop surrounded by three rows of diamonds."

Tears filled her eyes as she gazed at Erik with utter adoration and graciousness, her heart bursting with her hidden love for this longtime friend of hers. She fell into his warm embrace and closed her eyes, utterly exhilarated by his presence. He wrapped his strong arms around her, resting his cheek atop her head. His smell filled her entire being as quickly as the sun's light envelopes the horizon on a beautiful summer day.

He was the only man who ever made electricity shoot through her like lightning lights up the sky. She wanted to make love with him…She wanted to tell him that she l…She had to know if he…

Looking into his eyes, she ceased her racing thoughts and pressed her small hand to the side of his deformed cheek. He closed his eyes and breathed her name so wantonly that chills ran up her body. Leaning towards him, she whispered against his lips, her breath tickling them, "Erik, I want you to know that I l…"

An abrupt knock at her door tore him away from her body in an instant, the cold air replicating the wall he usually had between the two of them. She had been so close…so close to getting him to tear that wall of indifference down, but he now stood with his arms crossed and frown covering his features…Slight grooves creased his pale forehead as his deformed countenance scowled.

Sighing heavily, Christine opened the door to see Lt. Sherman and Detective Elizabeth standing there. Erik merely passed a disinterested glance their way before mumbling his apologies before heading out.

"Erik, wait, don't go…" The door clicked shut behind the two officers.

Sighing again, Christine turned towards her law enforcement brethren, "How can I help you two?"

Elizabeth spoke first, "Actually, I only accompanied Lt. Sherman here because I have to go upstairs to my apartment. He insisted that I come meet the district attorney. I feel so privileged to meet another woman in this line of work."

Shaking hands, Christine smiled genuinely before Elizabeth let herself out. Once Lt. Sherman and she were alone, Christine retrieved two glasses of tea, knowing that Peter detested the taste of coffee.

As the two sipped their coffee, the two discussed the armed robbery case they were presenting to the Grand Jury tomorrow morning. Despite this, part of Christine wondered if Erik had another reason besides shame to have that wall of nonchalance.

~Outside Christine's Apartment Building~

Damn! Erik's mind screamed. He had been so close to tasting her lips…His senses were even more keen than usual, having been aroused by Christine's beauty and fragrance. How he loved her! He knew he should not…He could not give her the life she deserved, but he could not seem to help himself. He wanted her.

Hell, he loved her!

Yet, he was also secretly pleased they were interrupted by the lieutenant and his deputy because underneath his eveningwear was his suit. Only a brief two hours before, he had been present at Madame Giry's house to retrieve the suit's upgraded version.

"Yes, Erik, do come inside. I have what you want ready." A tall, thin woman with her black hair tightly bound in a bun atop her head let the billionaire enter her quaint home outside Gorham city limits. She dressed in a simple, long sleeve black dress and wore no jewelry to adorn her pale figure. Having lost her husband from the war overseas nearly two years, she simply grieved for him ever since.

"How are you feeling, Anne?" Erik gently questioned in his beautiful voice. Anne Giry was a very intelligent, proud woman, but even that quality did not stop the pancreatic cancer from ravaging her body. Her time left on the earth was limited to three to six months as of last month's visit.

When Erik's parents perished, Anne stepped in to help Aldred with Erik's rearing, and had quickly become like a second mother to him. In fact, Erik and her biological daughter Meg had been like brother and sister at one time. As the years passed by, Meg and Erik drifted into different paths.

"I am feeling as well as to be expected."

Anne retired from NASA's aeronautical division with great merits of her accomplishments. She developed strategies, uniforms, and shuttle compilations for aeronautical flight. Erik trusted her with his life, knowing she would be loyal to him.

After his return from Indonesia, he had gone to her with an offer. She readily accepted his terms, knowing the sum of money would always help Meg in the future. Taking Nomex material she had kept from some of her projects, she compiled a mask that was bulletproof that would hide Erik's deformity and identity from the criminals.

The mask looked porcelain but was menacing in appearance due to the grimacing countenance it portrayed for the wearer. When she made his suit, she made sure to use lightweight metal polymers and carbon composites to help deflect bullets while maintaining his speed if needed.

His suit was similar to an all black tuxedo without the tie. Constructing the suit was a bit more complex, so Anne retrieved some regular suit fabric and interwove Kevlar thread to embed the nano-tube fibers within the suit.

Also within the suit's fabric, she stitched electrical implants that connected wirelessly to the mask. This ensured Erik's safety if a criminal were to incapacitate him, then that criminal would be electrocuted, leaving Erik unharmed and not unmasked.

The cape followed the same pattern as his suit, but also was reinforced with Nomex material to be a retardant against fire or tears. She also stitched some slight weight tips to the bottom of the cape to keep the cape from blowing around him constantly, be an annoyance, or even be a weapon if needed. While having the electrical implants within the cape, it was not used as a weapon. Instead, the electrical impulse transmitted caused the cape to take on a curvature shape in order for Erik to glide in the air once triggered by one of his gloves that held the equipment to the electrical implants and other weapons.

As Erik traveled down the hall, he happened to pass by an empty staircase when he felt the air pressure drop. Stopping he peered up the staircase to see a shadow diminish on the third floor. A queasy feeling settled in his stomach as he felt a chill run up his body. Something was amiss. Reaching into his laptop bag, he fingered his mask before climbing the eerily silent stairwell.

Author's Note: Yes, I realize this chapter is unfinished. I just wished to give you all a little taste of this chapter to see if I was heading in the right direction with the story. If you like the way this story is heading, please review!

Thanks. I hope to have the rest of the chapter up by the end of next week or sooner…depending on my school schedule!

Sincerely,

RainsP.