Chapter 25: In the Absence of Light, Darkness Prevails

Paris, June 1911

After enjoying that beautiful sunrise and eating breakfast with Erik Christine returned back to Mama Valerious. She felt something wrong immediately when she reached the stairs. The door to Valerious flat was open and couple of neighbours were trying to see in. Christine felt her blood go cold as she reached the apartment. Before she was in she was stopped by Mama Valerious doctor Jarrod.

"Doctor Jarrod, is everything alright?" Christine asked immediately.

The elder man guided her in to the living room. He then took a deep breath.

"Mademoiselle Daae, maybe you'd better sit down" he said.

Christine felt tears in her eyes as she the realization hit her. "She's…dead" Christine whispered.

"I'm truly sorry, Miss Daae" doctor said.

Christine's hand covered her mouth as she tried to steady her breathing. "W-was…she…in a-any…pain?" she muttered.

Doctor shook his head. "No, she died very peacefully in her sleep".

Christine sat down to a chair where she didn't rise until three hours later, after arranging thing with doctor Jarrod and authorities. It was evening by the time Christine went back to the opera house; she couldn't sleep in her late foster mother's home. Now she wanted to see Mme. Giry who like Mama Valerious had tried their best to be a mother character to Christine and Meg, the only one Christine had thought as her sister. She knocked the door of Mme. Giry's room wondering how red her eyes must be for all the crying. To her surprise she saw that Mme. Giry's eyes were red from crying also.

"Christine, what's wrong?"

"Mme. Giry, what's wrong?" they asked the same time they saw each others eyes.

"Mama Valerious died last night" she said and was immediately in Mme. Giry's embrace. Giry had met Mme. Valerious only couple of time but she knew how important she had been to Christine.

"Why have you been crying?" Christine asked from elder woman. Mme. Giry pulled away from her and gave her a sad look.

"This is the day of many misfortunes" she said. Then she guided Christine in to her room. Christine saw Meg sleeping in her mother's bed, which was strange as she preferred girl's dormitories, but then Christine noticed a bad looking bruise on her friend's face.

"What has happened to her? Is she alright?" Christine, immediately concerned, asked.

Mme. Giry gave a deep sight. "Oh Christine…Meg was…" the tears were coming from Mme. Giry's eyes as she forced herself to say it.

"What?" Christine asked.

"…raped" Giry said, no more than a whisper.

Christine didn't even bother to hide her shock or silent her gasp.

"Who did it? Who did this to her?" Christine asked, feeling anger and helplessness building inside her as she watched her beaded friend sleeping.

"Alexander; the young stagehand" Mme. Giry said. "He had asked my little Meg to go for a walk as it was fine day. Meg didn't tell me, didn't want to hear my lecturing…" madam's voice faded away as they heard a silent voice coming from the bed.

"Mama…" said Meg. Christine started to cry. She had always known Meg as strong and independent, but that voice was like a little child's who has lost: filled with sorrow, loneliness and fear.

Mme. Giry fell beside the bed and gently stroked her daughter's hair. "Shh…sleep now. I'm here and I'll be here when you awake, my child" she said. As Meg fell back to sleep her mother gave up to the tears. "My daughter…" she silently cried. "My beautiful daughter…"

Christine couldn't take it anymore. Less than a 24 hours she had seen how easily world can change from beautiful and happy to ugly and dark. Why was the world so full of darkness, she asked from herself. She ran away from Mme. Giry's room, ran through the halls and corridors of the Opera house until reached the chapel where she had for years listened Erik's voice. She fell to cold stone floor and started to yell.

"Erik…Erik...ERIK!" she yelled as loud as she could, crying all the time.

It only took couple of minutes for the dark figure to appear from nowhere. Christine raised her head and saw a tall man dressed in black and a mask on his face. The moment she saw his unmistakable eyes she leaped toward him, crying to his chest. Slowly Erik's arms pulled her to embrace.

"Christine, tell me what is wrong" he said gently and obviously concerned.

"Everything" she said. "Take me to your house by the lake. I can't stand being here".

Erik took her hand and in a few moments they had reached to his underground home. He made her a strong tea to help her relax a bit. She drank it and told him everything. Erik felt sad, not for Valerious or Meg, but for Christine. Just this morning he had seen her happy watching the sunrise, she had laughed and danced. Now she just wanted to surrender to oblivion. Erik knew the feeling very well.

It wasn't really late yet but Christine was exhausted and Erik carried her to her bed. As he turned to leave he felt her taking his hand.

"Please, don't go…" said her pleading voice.

Hesitantly Erik placed himself next to her and Christine immediately snuggled as close to him as she could. Erik sang her sleep with his soft voice.

Chapter 26 Erik's thoughts in the Night

Erik lay awake in Christine's bed facing the ceiling. Christine had fallen asleep an hour ago or so, and Erik had kept singing with his "angelic" voice so she wouldn't be waking any time soon. Christine had snuggled very close to Erik. She was using Erik's shoulder as a pillow at the moment and her other arm was crossed over his chest. Erik could feel her regular breath in his ear even through the mask.

For him this was awkward. Never before had anyone be so close to him for their own free will. Never before had anyone came to look comfort from him. And why would anyone have? You don't talk to the Devil when you're in grief. But she had come. She had preferred coming to him instead of going to that pompous young viscount. First Erik thought that in her grief Christine wasn't able to think clearly. But surely anyone can see the difference between angel and fiend, right? Unless Christine truly wanted to come to him, as incredible as it sounds.

Erik moved himself to look sleeping Christine more properly, as Christine shifted from Erik to her back. Erik stood to his knees and looked at the angel in front of him.

"An angel?" he thought "Goddess more likely".

Even though Christine didn't seem to realise it she was incredibly beautiful to Erik, who had learned to see past that what the shallow world above him called "beauty". To Erik beauty wasn't about hair colour, or colour of the skin or how big breasts were. To him beauty was what he heard in voice and what he saw in eyes. In Christine's voice he had always heard earnest and understanding. True, sometimes she may have spoken to him carefully, afraid of his reaction, but she didn't fear him. Or if she did it wasn't the same way as everyone else did. There was no hate in her fear towards him. And her eyes…Erik were always amazed by the purity he saw in them. Not exactly innocence, for Erik had long since learned that no-one was innocent. But in Christine had always eye for true beauty, that's why Erik knew she would appreciate the sunrise.

Erik almost felt like crying suddenly. He thought about his past and was afraid of what Christine would think of him if she knew. Suddenly Erik's yellow eyes winded. It wasn't 'if' she would ever know it was 'when' she would know. Erik felt the most worthless creature living. He had been leading her, keeping her under his will and put his ring to her finger without letting her know about the nightmare that was his past. Erik knew he could not continue and he felt desperate knowing he had to come clean to her. He felt like crying but refused to do so. He hadn't cried in decades, crying was for weak.

He suddenly heard a soft moan coming from Christine's mouth and saw that her lips were slightly parted. Erik felt his knees go weak and his breathing going shallow. Oh, how he wished he could remove his mask and bent down to taste those lips. But kissing this goddess was something he didn't have right. He loved Christine and therefore was going to give her a chance; a chance that might cost him his happiness. He was going to tell everything to her and then ask her to be his wife. He was going to risk everything in order to gain everything.

Erik heard another moan and left her to the bed. If he'd stay longer he might lose control. Especially when a very personal part of him had suddenly reminded him that Erik was also a man. This surprised him. It had been years since he had last had these needs, last time before he came to Paris opera house. It happened in Siberia 1897. Erik had been travelling around the world looking for other men like him, men who had born with this kind of gifts as Erik like to put it. He had met only couple of like him, and their gifts were so meaningless compared to him that some of them didn't even realise they had them. The last person who had a gift was a Siberian monk named Grigori (AN: ten points to one who guess who I'm referring to!). Grigori had the gift but he was so consumed by the lust of drinks and flesh that he disgusted Erik. Erik gave up of his search and started to look for a place to settle down. He found it couple of years later in Paris opera house.

Erik pushed his memories about Grigori away and went to his private laboratory. This one of the rooms he had forbidden Christine to enter. It was full of dangerous liquids and he didn't want Christine to get even near them. He went to his cabinet and took a small bottle of green liquid. The years in Persia had teach him a lot about human body and this liquid was one of many Erik had made. Erik had started to think that Opera house was his kingdom and here he was king, emperor, sultan, pope and God. It was his duty to take care of it and its peoples; as long as they obeyed the rules of their king he always took care of them and didn't see point in punishing anyone. Last time he was forced to punish someone was in last February with that Joseph Buquet fellow. Idiot had disobeyed the rules and went to look for the phantom. Well, he certainly found him. Now Erik took the green liquid, put it to his pocket and went up to opera house.

He let himself to Mme. Giry's room. It was dark and he saw both Giry women sleeping in same bed, younger having a nasty bruise on her face. Mme. Giry immediately felt the Phantom's presence in the room. For years she had known him to be flesh and blood, but she wasn't foolish enough to question him. She obeyed and kept the opera ghost's legend alive (AN: Hehe, a little crossover between Leroux and 2004 movie).

Mme. Giry rose little, staring at the dark room, knowing she would not see him. "Monsieur le Fantôme?" she whispered, little terrified.

A silent, angelic voice answered. "Do not worry, Mme. Giry. I heard about your misfortune" he said gently.

Giry turned to look at her sleeping daughter beside her and felt new tears coming to her eyes. "It's wrong, monsieur, she didn't deserve it".

"Nobody deserves to be treated like that" Erik said. There was nothing he hated more than rapist. He considered even murdered be a better person. He took the liquid from his pocket and placed it to Giry's bedside table. Madame saw a glimpse of his hand. She looked at the bottle.

"What is that?" she asked.

"It's for your daughter. Put it to her tea next morning" he said.

"What will it do?"

"Help her to avoid possible blessed state" he said. He had often put this drug secretly to the drinks of some chorus and ballet girls who had partied little too much with young men. The reputation of his kingdom will not be ruined. "It won't harm her, I assure you. She will be healthy and capable of having children in the future".

Mme. Giry took the bottle and held it tight. Her daughter wouldn't have a bastard child and whores reputation. "What about Alexander?" she dared to ask.

"He will be punished" Erik said.

"Thank you" Giry whispered. She then added "What should I do now? How can I help her?" she asked, her voice trembling now.

Erik thought for a moment of his mother and what he wanted from her. "Love her, be there for her" he said and slipped off of the room. He was going to need some sleep for tomorrow he had a long day.

Chapter 27: Arranging Funerals

Christine didn't want to open her eyes. When the consciousness came back and she remembered what had happened yesterday she just wanted to slip back to oblivion. She didn't want to remember Mama Valerious empty house that was waiting for her. She didn't want to remember bruised face of Meg Giry and her desperate mother. It seemed that after that beautiful sunrise Erik had showed her nothing had gone right.

Erik.

Then Christine remembered that she had come to him last night. She opened her eyes to confirm that, she was indeed in her bedroom in Erik's underground home. Why had she come here yesterday? "I didn't have anywhere else to go" she thought.

Liar, said voice in her head, you could have go to the girls dormitories or stay with Mme. Giry who probably wouldn't have mind having you there with her and Meg. And what about Raoul, he certainly would have helped you?

"It wouldn't have been proper to go to him" Christine insisted.

But it is proper to see a man who lives as a ghost underground? What is proper and what is not certainly weren't in your mind yesterday. Why did you come to him, Christine?

"I…I don't know" she whispered now aloud.

Yes you do, said the voice in her head. You're just afraid to admit it to yourself, aren't you?

"I knew he would understand these things better".

Maybe, perhaps partly that was the reason. But certainly not the main reason of why you came to him in despair.

"Than what is the main reason?" Christine was getting tired of that voice.

Let us think about this logically. You know what Erik looks like. Usually people would stay away from someone who looks like him. You know he is not mere human. You have seen him do things that bible teaches only devil can do. You have strong suspicious that he has in his past done some horrible things. You wouldn't be surprised if he had killed someone. So why on earth did you come to him?

"Because…because I…" Christine couldn't finish it.

Because you couldn't care less is he murderer, demon, saint, angel or the devil himself. Admit it to yourself, Christine. Your heart admitted it last morning during the sunrise. Didn't you feel how your heart knew the truth when you hugged him? Didn't you notice that you weren't least revolted even when you knew what lay beneath that scarf he was wearing? Why did it feel so right to snuggle against him last night? Why are disappointed that he is not here anymore? Now come on, Christine. You're not stupid. You know what the real reason you came here is.

"Oh my God…" she whispered.

Exactly, said the voice.

Christine was brought out of her thoughts by sudden knocking on the door. "Christine, I know you are awake. I've let you sleep long time but it is lunchtime now. Please come out" said Erik's superhuman voice.

Christine got little fresh up and then went to Erik. As she came to table he was holding a letter.

"Christine, as you were sleeping I took the liberty of starting to arrange Mme. Valerious funerals. Here is the letter with the detailed arrangements. I understand if you don't want to do this now but they need you to tell what kind of funerals it will be" Erik said.

Christine gave him a little smile. "It's alright Erik. I will do it know, its better get over it quickly".

Christine took the letter while eating her lunch, that little what she was willing to eat. She read it thoroughly and wrote a short letter in which she gave the instructions. It was going to be very small and closed funerals. She handed to letter to Erik.

"Maybe you would like to rest for a little time yet? I'm going to post this" he said and disappeared.

Christine did as was told and took a little nap. She wondered for a moment why she didn't feel so out of place here in Erik's home. She woke an hour later with Erik arriving back.

"The funerals will be tomorrow. I took the liberty to send the invitations to those few peoples you mentioned".

"They were Mama Valerious friends more than mine" Christine said. It was then when Christine noticed how nervous Erik looked like. Not that Christine could see his face but his body movements told everything. "Why are you so nervous, Erik?" Christine asked gently.

Erik's yellow eyes looked at her. "Because there is something I need to do but I'm afraid of doing it" he admitted.

"Why do you fear to do something" Christine asked concerned.

"Because I might loose you forever" he said.

Christine's eyes winded. "What is it you need to do?"

Erik took a long deep breath before saying "I need to tell you about my past".

Now Christine almost drop form the couch she was sitting in. For a long time she had wanted to know everything she could from Erik. The idea of knowing Erik's past was terrifying she had to admit. She didn't know what she would learn of him but she knew it wouldn't be pleasant.

"Do you want to know about my past, Christine? Think carefully for if you want I will tell you. I will tell everything without making anything prettier. Everything I will tell will be truth. And after I have told you can't take it back. So you have to be sure Christine. We both know that truth" Erik slightly touched his mask "isn't always beautiful".

Christine looked at the masked man before him and made decision she knew could well destroy that something they had between each others. She nodded her head. Erik sat down to a chair opposite her.

"Very well…"

Chapter 28: Erik 1859-1877

As I have told you before, my dear, I was born and raised in France, in the year of 1859. My father had died before I was born so when my mother discovered what I looked like it was double shock. She had expected me to be reminder of the love she and my father shared; instead she couldn't even look at me. Officially I died few days after my birth. My mother was still young and very beautiful and knew she could get married again if she didn't have me as a burden. So she hid me from the world. First to the attic but she soon realised that I couldn't stay hidden forever there. So she took me out of town to a remote country house where the only companion I had was a nanny named Hannah.

Unlike my mother, Hannah didn't hesitate to help if I needed it. She was more mother to me than my real one. Even though she cared of my well being even she wasn't able to look at my face. I think it was for her I learned to tie my mask when I was child. Still, like all children, I longed to receive attention from my mother. She came to visit us only once a week, every Saturday. Every time she came I tried to impress her with my drawings, from very early on I realised I had gift for art, or playing upstairs piano which I also found myself rather talented. But even when she smiled I knew it was forced and when she looked at me I saw how disgusted by me she was. She just wanted to get away from my presence.

I was probably five or six when I started to realise how different I truly was. Hannah took me many times to walk in the woods near out house. One day a man from the village came across us with his dog. Dog was giant compared to me and when it barked I got scared. I went panicked and I took hold of Hannah wishing that dog would go away. And just like that dog escaped from its owner and disappeared. It also started to rain, though that wasn't unusual. It was spring after all.

During those times I started to hear voices. Some of them were hard to understand and they only seemed to be repeating same words over and over again. It was also on those times I started to sneak out on nights to the cemetery near our house. For some reason being close to the deaths and graves was comforting and relaxing to me. I noticed soon that I slept better near graves than in my bed. Many times Hannah had to come and fetch me from there during the sunrise so some poor villager wouldn't cross my path. It was during those trips that I first time seen my face. Hannah had done an excellent job of hiding all the mirrors in the house, but even she couldn't hide the small water pools in the graveyard. It was a hard day. All my dreams of becoming worldwide known musician came crushing down.

Still my life was rather good until I turned eleven. In 1870 my mother was about to get married again and she knew that it would only be a matter of time before husband would found out about me. So she came for us suddenly on Thursday instead of Saturday and said she was going to take me to a carriage drive. I was excited, I thought I had finally earned my mothers love and we would become closer to each others. Instead she got rid of me altogether. She took me to a circus run by travelling gypsies. Circus was specialised of magic tricks, illusions and freak of natures. I found myself very soon behind the bars on my far from home.

Circus was run by Javert, a violent and abusing excuse of a man. In his protection that men do not merely get away from those they are revolted by. They also take some pleasure of seeing them humiliated. Peoples came and paid good money for Javert of seeing me beaten and exposed to the world. The show always begun with me lying in a coffin so everyone thought I was deceased. The he would beat the life to me. I kept the coffin and I slept in it. I was known as "THE WALKING CORPSE". Suited didn't it, my dear? I stopped crying after couple of years, knowing no mercy was shown to a monster like me. I haven't cried ever again.

After some years I provided to be the best source of money Javert had and I was able to pull some strings of his. I guess he was my practise of manipulating humans. He allowed me to have some liberties like dressing more properly and have some books. During my stay in his camp I managed to have some architectural books and I found myself fascinated about the subject. From whatever leftovers I could find I tested my abilities and build different things. I also played whenever I could and stretched the boundaries of my voice as I had found it too was different than anyone else.

But these were not the only thing I seek information. I also became more aware of my other abilities. As the circus travelled across Eastern Europe I heard peoples talk. It took years before I was able to count one plus one but I finally realised that I wasn't the only one with these "gifts". For centuries, maybe even longer, there had been peoples who could control weather and animals, talk to spirits and other unearthly creatures and that these peoples slept in graves and coffins. During the centauries most of the legends were forgotten or mixed up with the vampire tales. I am one of these peoples, I realised. I tried my abilities. If I concentrated hard I could summon wind or a rain, depend on my mood. I figured that these voices I heard could actually be spirits or some creatures beyond human understanding. And I could control some animals, especially beasts. I commanded ants to go to Javert's bed while I was "performing" so he never could blame me.

You see, my dear, not to arouse Javert's suspicions of these abilities I had to play my part of being the weaker one of us. Javert had strange affection towards people who were weaker than him and he abused me…in several ways. For years I allowed him, mainly because I didn't have any other home where I could practise my skills safely. It wasn't until I was 18 years old in 1877 I decided to leave. We were at the Romania during that time. When I was just leaving Javert came to stop me. All the disgusting things he had done came to my mind and I summoned a wolf. I was first going to just scare him but all the faces of peoples who laughed and mocked me came back to my mind and I lost it. I killed a man for the first time in my life by commanding that wolf to attack Javert.

I swore that night that I would try to find my place in this world and learn everything I could of myself. I swore that should I find a place among men where I could be happy and accepted I would make peace with the entire world and with the God that created me. But if I wouldn't, if peoples would only see me as a monster, then monster I would be. I would turn my heart to stone and feel no regret of anything I'd do.

For what else murder is than another art among the others for me to practise and mastered?