Raoul: YES! I have finally escaped the basement!

Erik: No, you haven't! (ties Raoul up and throws him down the stairs)

Raoul: CURSE YOU!

Chapter Ten:

Two Years Later

A drop of water landed on my nose, and I brushed it away absently, pulling the noose tighter around the man's throat. He gurgled, his eyes bulging out of his head, before finally falling limp and silent.

Taking the rope from around his neck, I walked out of the alley, carrying the child on my hip. Why I had saved him, I may never know. He was young, around six or seven, and regarded me with wide, fear-stricken eyes.

"That man . . ." he whispered, terrified I would give him the same treatment. "He was going to hurt me."

"I know," I whispered, walking down the street. "So I hurt him."

"Where are you taking me, mister?" he asked.

"Do you have a mother?"

"No. She's gone to Heaven to be with God."

"Where do you live?" I had to get him off this topic before he started crying.

"I don't live nowhere, mister."

I sighed, looking around. There were houses lining either side of the streets, few with lights in the windows at this hour. Still, I pressed on, searching for one suitable for this child.

At last, I reached a window where a woman sat, sewing, and knocked on the door.

She answered it, opening her mouth to speak, but I raised a hand.

"Madame," I said, "this boy is in need of a home. I found him on the streets and was wondering if someone could take him in."

Her lips formed an 'o' of surprise, and she looked at the boy, then took him from my arms. "What's your name?" she asked him softly.

"Tommy."

"Well, Tommy, you're staying here now." She smiled, then looked back at me. "You must be an angel in disguise, sent to answer prayers," she remarked, a smirk on her face. "My husband and I have tried for a child for a long time, and here you come, giving not only a home to this boy, but also a child to us. Thank you, sir."

I smiled sadly and nodded. "You're welcome, madame," I said. As she closed the door, I walked away, my usual misery returning. Usually, the euphoria of killing takes it away for a while. However, when the woman called me an angel, it brought bitter memories of Christine. And when I thought of Christine . . . I thought of Chelsea.

I kicked the wall, unable to control my anger and hurt.

I walked toward a tavern, bored out of my mind and in desperate need of a drink. The people of Kentucky, I have observed, make the strongest whiskey, and whiskey is a necessity when you want to forget something. Or someone.

The air of the tavern was polluted by cigar smoke. In one corner, a group of men played poker. I chose the corner opposite them and ordered the strongest whiskey they had.

As I waited for my drink, a prostitute eyed me lustfully. I attempted to keep my attention elsewhere, but when she walked over to me, it was difficult to ignore her.

"How are you tonight?" she asked, smirking.

"Married," I mumbled, staring straight ahead.

"Wife giving you a hard time at home?" she asked. "If you need a little lovin', sugar . . ."

"I'm married, madame. My wife expects me home tonight. And I love her very much and do not wish to hurt her. So please, go away." It was a small lie but it hurt like hell nonetheless. I waved her off and tried vainly not to cry. Tears cascaded down my cheek beneath my mask, and the thought of Chelsea made the gaping hole where my bruised and battered heart beat hurt even worse.

Giving up, she walked over to another man, who gladly took her offer and went out the door with her.

Sighing, I looked over to the bar. The little man was gone, I realized.

I noticed a man staring at me, and I stood, dropping a few coins on the table. Time to move on.

The tale of Le Fantôme de l'Opéra had reached the ears of the American people by now, no doubt spread far from the mouth of Raoul de Chagny.

Walking out of the tavern, I took off my mask and covered my face with my cloak. With luck, I would make it out of Frankfort before dawn.

I walked to the inn where I was staying and paid the innkeeper for the few nights I had slept there, then walked to the stable to get my carriage.

Something wasn't right. My horses were in the stables like they were wupposed to be, but they fidgeted and counted uncontrollably. I patted Faust's neck before turning my attention to Orpheus, calming both of them.

I felt cold metal at the back of my neck, and sighed deeply. "Shoot me. You'll be doing me a favor."

A female voice answered, "But Chelsea will get nothing out of it."

Shocked, I whirled around. A tall girl with dark brown hair and a pair of deep blue eyes held the pistol pointed toward my chest.

"Toni?" I hissed, taking her by the shoulders. "What the hell are you doing here? How did you find me? Is Chelsea with you?"

"I'm trying to convince you to come back to Chelsea, you aren't that hard to track, and Chelsea doesn't know I'm here. But I'm not alone." A smug smirk played on her lips, and I felt a rough, firm hand grip my shoulder. Terrified, I turned to face none other than Mr. Ivy, Chelsea's stepfather. His warm, pale-blue eyes were filled with sadness and had dark circles beneath them, as if he hadn't slept in weeks.

"Erik," he said, pulling me into an embrace. "You saved her life once before. I firmly believe you can do it again."

"Mr. Ivy, what's wrong with Chelsea?" I asked, pulling away. "Is she hurt? Has she been kidnapped?"

"No, none of that," the older man said, shaking his head. "Chelsea's sick."

"What illness does she have?" I asked, alarmed. "Is it fatal? Can it be cured?"

"It can be fatal if not tended to, and there is only one cure." He held my shoulders firmly, looking into my eyes. "She's lovesick. She needs you."

I shook my head, laughing. "Chelsea doesn't love me. She said herself the only reason she married me was to get Raoul to leave her alone."

"Originally, the only reason you married her was to keep her safe," Toni pointed out.

"That's beside the point," I said, waving both of them off. "It at least proves I cared. She married me for the simple purpose of using me as a repellent of that . . . pest."

"Do you still care about her?" Mr. Ivy asked, turning me to face him.

I hesitated, looking away. Sighing, I nodded submissively. "Yes," I admitted, running my hands over my face. "I do. I think about her every day, and I pray to God that she's alright."

"She needs you now, Erik," Toni said, putting a hand on my shoulder. "Go to her."

I nodded, opening the door to Faust's stall and leading the black stallion out, did the same with Orpheus, then had Mr. Ivy assist me in attaching them to the carriage.

Once we were finished, I climbed into the driver's seat and rode off, praying I could make it to Virginia before it was too late.

Raoul: (sneaks through basement door silently, like a ninja)

(Real ninjas attack him)

Raoul: AAAAH! (dives down basement stairs)

(Erik and Onyxx pull off ninja masks)

Onyxx: High five?

Erik: Sure, what the hell.

Onyxx: :D OMG! You just high-five'd me!

Erik: ... And ... ?

Onyxx: ... Never mind.