Hello, all. I've got about seven and 1/3 pages for you to read, so I hope you enjoy this little treat.

Christine's sapphire blue eyes fluttered open when she heard to soft melody of a monkey music box, tapping the cymbals in its hands together. The tune… why did it sound so familiar? Had she heard it on the radio? No, it couldn't be. Where was she anyway? She slipped the black cloak off herself and got up to look around. Her silver high heels clicked against the floor, which caught Erik's attention as he was writing his music. He looked over and saw her standing no more than a few feet away from him. She was still modestly dressed as she was those years ago, wearing a pure white sleeveless dress that reached the floor and brown curled hair that reached to her lower back. So pure and beautiful… just as he remembered her.

I remember there was mist...

Swirling mist upon a vast glassy lake

There were candles all around,

and on the lake there was a boat

And in the boat there was a man
Who was that shape in the shadows?

Whose is the face in the mask?

And without warning, she pulled off Erik's hat by the brim.

"No!" he cried as he covered his face with his hands. He could feel his blood boiling now; he wanted to scream and break something, throw it across the room and watch it shatter.

No, he told himself. I must remain calm. I can't lose my temper in front of her again…

OoOoOo

...Damn you!

You little prying Pandora

You little demon, this is whanted to see…

Curse you, you little lying Delilah!

You little viper!Now you cannot ever be free!

Damn you, curse you...

Then he collapsed to the ground, and crawled towards her like a snake.

Stranger than you dreamt it

Can you even dare to look, or bear to think of me

This loathesome gargoyle

Who burns in hell,

But secretly yearns for heaven

Secretly, secretly...But, Christine...
Fear can turn to loveYou'll learn to see, to find the man behind the monsterThis repulsive carcass

Who seems a beast but secretly dreams of beauty,

Secretly, secretly...Oh, Christine...

OoOoOo

"C-Christine," Erik said shaking as he stood up, "I-I know that… that you are curious… yes, w-we are all at some point… but some… some thing are better left…" He turned his head around and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror; he couldn't even look at his own reflection and turned away. "…they are better left unseen… I… I don't blame you for that… but you don't want to see this face… especially since you don't remember it… the… the first time. Please, Christine, my dear…" He tried taking a step towards her, but he collapsed and fell on his knees. Christine knelt down next to him and held on to his hand so he wouldn't try to attempt getting back up. With her slender fingers, she combed his hair back before replacing his hat, making sure not to look at his face.

"I'm sorry," she said, "I won't let that happen again. I promise." Erik looked up at her. Had she willing shown his affection? Have the pieces fallen in their place?

"It's all right now," he said as he stood up with her, "But we must return; those two fools who run my theatre will be missing you."

OoOoOo

"So, you're saying she just disappeared?" Emma asked at the police station to Randal as she copied down his words.

"Yes, Sheriff Swan, the door suddenly locked on me, and when I finally kicked it open, she was gone!" Randal said frantically. "And then there was mist. How could have there possibly been mist?"

"Well, all right; I'll investigate as soon as possible. In the meantime-" The door gave a loud creak.

"Hello?" Christine said entering the room. Randal practically jumped out of his chair and ran to her.

"Christine! I was so worried about you!" he said. "Where in the world have you been?"

"I told you, I was just going to meet my instructor."

"But… but the door locked on me."

"Sorry, it must have locked automatically."

"And when I was finally able to get in, there was mist everywhere."

"Oh, um, well, I guess there was a lot of water. You know what, how about we just get to the theatre? There's supposed to be more information on the next show."

"Wait, Christine," Emma said, "I'd like to speak with you alone for a minute."

"I'll wait for you," Randal said as he shut the door. Christine took a seat in front of Emma's desk.

"Are you familiar with the name Erik Specter?"

"Er… yes," Christine said, "he's my music teacher."

"Has he ever… tried to hurt you in any way? Either physically or emotionally or se-" Christine knew what she was about to say next and immediately interrupted her.

"What? Of course not! He may be quiet and a little strange, but he is no monster!"

"Hey, I just need to know that everything's okay; Randal was very worried about what happened last night."

"I see… yes, everything is quite fine, Sheriff Swan, thank you." At that moment, the door swung open again. Emma looked over and saw Henry running towards her with the book still in hand.

"Emma!" he said.

"Oh, Henry," she said, "Sorry about what happened earlier today; your mother told me to leave, saying that she didn't need me to take you home."

"It's okay. But- oh, hi, Christine."

"Hello, Henry," Christine said, "What are you doing here?"

"Me? Oh, uh, just wanted to, um…" He reached into his pocket as he started to think when he found a handful of quarters. He placed them on the desk. "I just saw that Emma dropped these and wanted to give them back."

"Oh? Well, in the meantime, I better be off to the theatre." Christine got out of her seat and left. Right after she closed the door, Henry quickly sat himself down.

"Erik is the Phantom. He told me!" Emma sighed.

"Henry, you can't just believe everything that comes out of his mouth. I mean, I'm sure he's a nice guy, but you got to question his trustworthiness if he won't even show his face." Henry sulked in his seat.

"That's exactly what my mom said when she was driving me home." Emma immediately wished she had taken these words back; she wanted to be the mother figure he never had, not a copy of the mayor. She put his hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, I'm sorry. You know what? Why don't you let me get to know him better; we can make a day out of it by going all through town. That sound good?"

"Well… okay. But I can't be sure he'll agree."

"Come on, he seems to like you; how can he say no?"

OoOoOo

"No," Erik said as he neatly put his sheet music in a manila folder.

"But why?" Henry asked.

"I'd rather not scare the residents of Storybrooke more than they already are of me… at least, not at the moment. Therefore, I don't want to walk about town when it is unnecessary. Consider it a favor to everyone. Besides, I think you already know I'm not much of a people person as it is."

"But, Erik-"

"I'm sorry, Henry; I'd usually do anything for you, but this is not one of those things."

"In that case," Emma said, "do it for me."

"And why would I do that?" Emma reached for the sheriff badge attached to her hip and put it at his face.

"By order of the sheriff." Erik said nothing for a moment. Then there was a sigh.

"Fine. Perhaps I do have other things to do."

OoOoOo

Things were rather… awkward with Erik walking with the two. Every time they passed someone, they couldn't help but stare at the man with his face covered with a black veil. Erik tried to ignore this, but had to use all his strength to not give them an intimidating stare in return; despite his eyes being draped with a black cloth, his stare could scare them back into their usual business.

"Is this where you needed to go?" Emma asked pointing to Mr. Gold shop.

"Yes," Erik replied, "let's go."

A little bell rang as Erik opened the door. Mr. Gold was at the counter, organizing his newest wares under the glow of a light. Erik reached into his coat and slapped down a handful of bills onto the counter in front of him. Mr. Gold looked up at him confused.

"My house payments," Erik said.

"Haven't you heard of checks?" Mr. Gold asked as he counted the money.

"I thought you'd appreciate having your money right away."

"How thoughtful indeed. Well, anything else here you'd like? I have a lovely antique wooden music stand and I do know how much you like music items."

"Thank you, but-" Erik's eyes caught something that was right on a table, in the open for all customers to see. It was a pure white mask that would cover the right half of someone's face. He picked it up and traced his hand around the smooth edges, brushing his hand across the eye. Then, with the mask in hand, he reached under his veil and attached it to his face. It was a perfect fit. "It can't be," he said silently to himself.

"Like it?" Mr. Gold asked.

"Where did you get this?"

"Where? Oh, you know how these sort of things arise; it just sort of jumped at me."

"Hey, Erik, what do you have there?" Henry asked.

"It's nothing," he replied as he placed the mask back down.

"You know, I just thought of something," Mr. Gold said, "why don't you let the nice boy and lady see your face? After all, you can just show us the left half that is undeformed; I'm sure we're all curious to know what you look like."

"Erik," Emma said, "if you don't want to, you don't have to."

"No, that's alright," Erik said, "I suppose it couldn't do any harm to just show half of my face." Erik reached beneath the brim of his hat and unpinned a small pin that kept the veil in place. Slowly he folded it back to reveal his face.

A yellow eye almost seemed to glow in the somewhat dark room. His cheek was hollow and his face was deathly pale and almost corpse-like, just as the rest of his body was. Perhaps some of his skin was even dry and beginning to flake off.

"Satisfied?" he asked.

"Y-yeah," Emma said. If what was in Henry's book was true- which she wasn't exactly saying it was- then if his face looked like this just on his "normal" side, then what could it possibly look like on the deformed side? Although it wasn't as though the face was particularly ugly, it was just… unusual. The drawings may have looked normal, but up close was quite different. She tried flipping ahead in the book, but on the pages that were supposed to show the disfigurement, his entire head was just a white blur. She almost wanted to ask what the other side looked like, but it seemed as though it was enough stress on him just to reveal this much.

"Well, then," Erik said as he reattached the veil, "you wanted to stop at Granny's Café, did you not, Henry?"

OoOoOo

"Erik Specter," Ruby said strolling over to the group, "how long has it been since you last stopped for tea?"

"Too long, I'm afraid," Erik said.

"Too long is right; I thought that you died or something living all alone in that dark house."

"There're actually pretty good friends," Henry said to Emma, "not too sure why, though."

"Well it's a good thing today's a slow day," Ruby said, "I'll be able to stop and chat while I get your orders."

Everyone ordered their usuals, Emma and Henry a cup of hot chocolate with cinnamon sprinkled on top and Erik a cup of tea.

"By the way," Henry said, "you've still got a lot to tell me, Erik."

"Indeed," Erik replied. "Perhaps I should tell you about my experiences living in a freak show…"

OoOoOo

It was the annual carnival in the Kingdom. There were jugglers that could juggle thirty objects at a time, men who could eat fire, and beautiful dancers that almost seemed to fly through the air.

A young, eight-year-old Snow White looked at all these things in wonder with her sparkling little eyes. Her ebony black hair was tied back in a braid and she wore a yellow spring dress with flowers in her hair. Her father allowed her to roam by herself as long as she would meet him by sunset. She took in all the bright sights and sounds.

But then she saw something that wasn't so bright; it was a dark tent and a banner across it that said "Freak Show". Snow was scared at first, but decided to be brave and enter.

There were all sorts of strange people. There were twins that were attached together like a single person, a man with colorful tattoos all over his body that you could not even see his actual skin, a woman with a long beard brown like a man, and even a "dragon man", a man with sharp teeth and long, pointed fingernails.

But there was someone else that she saw. It was a young man, the sign outside his cage said he was about sixteen, locked in a cage like an animal. His hair was a tangled mess and in dire need of a trim. There were scars all over his body that she could see through his ripped clothing and insects flew around him. There was not much more she could see because he turned his face away from her, as though he was hiding something.

"Want to see something, girly?" a man said to her. He unlocked the cage and the young man recoiled. The man got out a long whip and began hitting the caged man with it. The young man looked as though he was using all his strength not to scream.

"Stop it!" Snow cried, "Stop it, please!" The man stopped reluctantly.

"All right, but trust me, you're missing out on some genuine entertainment! If you want to buy something to throw at him, just give a shout." After the man walked away, Snow approached the cage and kneeled down in front of him.

"Hello," she said. There was no reply. "My name is Snow White. What's yours?"

"…Erik."

"Erik? That's a nice name. How much longer are you going to stay here?"

"I really don't like it, as you saw; I don't want to stay here any longer."

"Oh. Well, maybe my father can help you out. You can live with us and you can be happy."

"I'm sure that sounds… nice."

"That's good. Well, goodbye for now; I promised my father that I'd be back before sunset." Erik watched her walk away, out into the world. Other than that ballet woman, she was the first person to show pity to him, even kindness. She was… kind. And indeed quite pretty. But he couldn't show any more proof of his existence, not if he wanted to escape.

"I'm sorry, Snow," he said, "but I'm afraid that we won't be able to get to know more about each other."

Once week later, news spread that a young man in a freak show escaped. Or, as the freak show workers insisted, died. Snow, however, didn't believe that stories of his death. No, it couldn't be true. He was probably in some faraway place, somewhere far away from the tortures of his cage. The only question was if she would ever see him again.

Read and review as always, dearies. Also, created this lovely new image manager feature, and while I'd love to use it, I really can't draw that well and I don't have a decent program to edit existing photos, so if any of you are willing to draw something from any of my stories, I'd be very grateful and I'll be sure to give you proper credit. That's all.