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!

Author's Note: Hello all! This chapter was particularly exciting for me to write! This is it! Erik escapes and Christine comes into the story! I am SO thrilled to hear from you all! Thanks for the reviews; they brighten my day. I am just glad you all are reading. Here we come to the incline of the roller coaster! Get ready for a very bumpy ride…

IMPORTANT: I apologize for the LONG wait for this chapter…My computer hard drive malfunctioned and I nearly lost all of my files, including this story. Luckily, the techs were able to retrieve the files; however, I just got it back a couple of days ago. So again, I ask for your forgiveness…Hopefully this chapter made the wait worth it.

Chapter Ten-Erik's Escape

Serene sat silently on the train, looking out at the bright scenery that passed by wondering how bleak her situation had become. A day ago she had been bright and happy, waiting for Spencer's arrival and now…she was a prisoner who was stuck beneath the masked man's upper-hand. How he had turned the tables!

She managed a glance in his direction across from her to find that he sat rigidly still, his long legs languidly stretched in front of him while his golden eyes were not seen in the black holes. In his waistline, the pistol's gleam shone as light reflected from it, making her well aware she would die if she tried to escape or attempted to reach out for help. His eyes were closed as if he was asleep, but she knew better; he was very perceptive to his surroundings and would wake at the slightest movements.

Sadly, she leaned her head back and stared idly out of the window. The masked man's gold eyes opened and peered at her submissive form across from him. She had not spoken since boarding the train, and the silence of the room was occasionally interrupted from the various sounds of the train. Yet, he knew that the defiant fire burned within her and it was only a matter of time before it engulfed her. She would continue to fight back until he reduced her to nothing. His gloved hands concealed his pale spidery fingers where others' blood could still be seen.

His melodiously deep voice brought her out of her reverie and she gave him the look of pure hatred. Holding out his hand, he motioned for her to give him what she was sitting on. Erik's face may have been deformed, but his eyes were not imperfect; they always see what most do not catch. The young doctor had grabbed some letter when he made his escape, but he could not retrieve it until now when he was in a safer place. He could not afford to be caught again, and he was curious, too about this letter.

With pure bitterness in her voice, she answered him by pulling the folded papers from beneath her and slapping them into his hand. To his surprise, he found the papers not to be a letter; rather, the papers were a part of a music composition. Looking at her, the black mask gleamed slightly as he inquired, "What is the story behind these?"

If she had been a snake, the venom from her tone would have killed him instantly; he was thankful she was just a very angry woman instead.

"Since you kidnapped me, I had to leave my important papers behind…but I refuse to leave this composition…As you know, my husband is a pianist…You, however, did not acknowledge that you knew him."

His eyes slightly widened, but the rest of his masked face remained stoical. She was quite the spit-fire when double-crossed.

"I was going through my files that I had packed. Come to discover, Spencer had hidden a particular folder within some miscellaneous papers. When I opened the folder, there was a letter and that musical composition. The letter he wrote detailed the account of his time at the Paris Opera Populaire and his time with the Opera Ghost. He told me everything in that letter. Feel free to read it."

The last part of her sentence was immersed in sarcastic resentment that he did not fail to notice. Crossing her arms across her chest in defiance, she looked out the window, refusing to acknowledge any part of him.

Shaking his head, Erik, too, chose to ignore her and pulled the letter from beneath the music to read what Spencer had to say about his time at Paris. Later on, Erik would consider it a fatalistic coincidence that out of all the papers she could have took, she took the one that was most important.

My Life and Lover:

I figured it was time that you knew the truth and why I kept it hidden from you so long. Perhaps you will understand and not be outraged, although you have every right to be. I must confess…It is imperative that I do, for I fear that I may lose both my sanity and you should I not tell you. Contrary to what you may believe, I am fully aware of this man named Erik Desslar. I also know Raoul de Chagny and Christine Daae. I am so sorry that you had to discover the truth like this, in a letter. I suppose I should have told you from the beginning, but I feared your reaction would have been to leave me…In an ironic way, I suppose my fears were futile. On any note, I must explain how I came to work at the Paris Opera House.

When your father sent the loan sharks after me, you and I had to part so soon after being in each others' arms. Because of my love for you, I had to keep you safe and make enough money to honor my promise to marry you as well as pay off my debts in order to lead a natural life…a life that you deserved. You knew I went to France to be an accompanist to an orchestra since there were more opportunities in civilized nations rather than the barely civilized Americas. This, you knew; however, you did not know that I was the orchestral accompanist in the Paris Populaire at the time when it was said to be haunted by the infamous 'Opera Ghost.' Never did I believe in fairy-tales, and trust me when I say; the entire story was not a fable. I met with a Detective who confirmed my suspicion that your patient, Erik Desslar, and the Opera Ghost of whom I was familiar were one in the same. I am sure you know the full details of all the crimes and woes the Phantom created while there because of his obsession with young singer Christine Daae.

I tried to deter you from leaving, even comparing to the monster that nearly took your life, but I fear that I left out my true opinion of the man…not the masked murderer of which everyone is fully aware but a living, breathing man with a heart. I need to tell you what I saw, my side of the story of this poor man. You know my mannerisms as a very quiet man, never wanting to be in the spotlight. I was determined to come back to you, a promise I always made and kept. When it was time for work, I showed up and when the house closed, I left. Yet, I somehow got involved. I am almost certain that you and Megan Giry are now good friends; she was always a light in the place before Erik's madness ensued. With my little money, I was able to stop her widow mother and the young ballerina from being thrown out into the harsh snowy filthy streets in the dead of winter. Later I discovered by Christine that Erik dropped the chandelier upon the woman the managers had hired in Madame Giry's stead as revenge. I had no idea that he and Madame Giry knew each other…She told me she had saved him from the same wintry streets years prior and they had become good friends.

Because of the woman's death in a horrific manner, the managers hired Antoinette back without stipulation. This was the first time I had seen the violence at Erik's hand, but my love, you must understand his mindset at the time. I have no degree or specialty in the field of the mind; that is your area, but I believe I know how he must have felt. Despite the horrific way of dealing with the issue, I did see how much he cared about Madame and her daughter. Although I did not agree with his methods, I saw that this 'ghost' was a man, a suffering man at that. Of course he would tell you how the ballet corps always gossiped about him, blaming him anywhere from a stolen brush to the deprecation of sets. Mostly I ignored such gibberish until they discussed his deformity, 'Death's Head,' as they called it. I was rather skeptical of the whole description until Christine unmasked him in front of nearly all of Paris that fateful night she disappeared forever. True, he was hideous and repulsive but he was still a man in my eyes, a man who had a heart filled with unrequited love. I remained unscathed in the entire fiasco, but my heart was not. As a musician, I empathized greatly with this enigma of a man, whose only mistake was falling in love with the unattainable woman. At that time, I feared I had suffered from the same dilemma, fearing I would never be able to return to you.

You may wonder why I feared you trying to figure out what happened to Christine by treating him. Well, I will say that it was not the fear of the monster, the enigmatic man who could kill with the flick of the wrist; it was the fear of how human Erik is. I was afraid that if pushed too far, you could break him and he could hurt you in his rage. Perhaps one incident could convince you of his humanity. When the body of the stagehand, Joseph, fell from one of the backdrops, everything became immediate and utter chaos. The orchestra had fled, leaving me in a stupefied shock. I managed to see Christine and Raoul escape the commotion through the door that led to the roof. I knew that it was important to stop more bloodshed, so I pursued the two lovebirds to the top of the building, a foolish move on my part. Christine told Raoul the entire story about Erik, his deformity, his madness, her fear of him, her desperation to flee from him upon that cold starry night. Yet, my attention was not on the two lovers; it was on the statue of Apollo's Lyre.

The stars littered the sky with white light, but while I could not see Erik, I knew he was very much present because there were two gold lights that flickered on top of the statue directly towards the woman. He did not seem to notice my presence or at least he did not acknowledge it. Christine and Raoul had planned to escape the premier of DonJuan once Erik was put into police custody. Once she was calm and assured all was well, the two left. I remained hidden beside the momentous marble figure and watched the masked man descend. Hot fear rose within me, but my heart refused to let my body flee. I needed to know if this man truly was human. I expected him to curse, to rant, and to scream; he did none of those. Instead, a soul-piercing cry of agony perforated the night sky and pricked the hearts of the angels. He wept openly for quite a long time, barely able to breathe, so smothering was his sorrow. This man may have been a murderer and a criminal, but he was dying. Not from illness, no, he was dying from a broken heart. It was then I knew how tragic this love story was…and…how doomed his heart would be.

Because of his suffering, I was filled with inspiration to compose a song. For the entire time I was separated from you, my love, I could not write, so heartsick. If you are at a last resort with him, give him this letter and this song I composed. He will understand and perhaps he will have compassion for you.

This is for you Erik…

Erik's eyes and throat ached for tears to be released, but he could not let them go. His heart hurt from the guilt that had begun to form, but his mind steeled him from forgoing his plan. Instead, he turned to the man's song. First, the masked man hummed the melody then he memorized the words. He felt her eyes on him now, but he did not care. He needed to lose himself in the music, this song…How beautiful it was…How magnificent it was. This man, Spencer…well, Erik knew he had been right about this good man. This man was very talented. Suddenly, Serene's hand reached out and touched his gloved one. Their eyes met, both teary with the ache for the ones they loved, but soon her eyes grew cold and she turned away. His voice became louder as he sang the song Spencer had written, knowing in time, he would destroy the young man's heart.

Spencer's song lay on Erik's lap as the music took over that small train compartment of a room. Closing his gold eyes, the former Phantom felt the familiar warmth of music flood his body as he threw his soul into the song.

Ashes and Wine

Don't know what to do anymore

I've lost the only love worth fighting for

I'll drown in my tear storming sea,

That would show you…that would make you hurt like me

All the same

I don't want mudslinging games

It's such a shame

To let you walk away

Is there a chance?

A fragment of light at the end of the tunnel?

A reason to fight?

Is there a chance you may change your mind?

Or are we ashes and wine?

Don't know if our fate's already sealed

This day's spinning surface on a wheel

I'm ill with the thought of your kiss

Coffee laced intoxicating on her lips

Shut it out

I've got no claim on you now

Not allowed to wear your freedom down

Is there a chance?

A fragment of light at the end of the tunnel?

A reason to fight?

Is there a chance you may change your mind?

Or are we ashes and wine?

I'll tear myself away

That is what you need

There is nothing left to say

But

Is there a chance?

A fragment of light at the end of the tunnel?

A reason to fight?

Is there a chance you may change your mind?

Or are we ashes and wine?

The day's still ashes and wine

Or are we ashes?

(See A/N about this song)

Soon the cabin became silent as the two became immersed in the thoughts of love lost. Serene had nearly been lulled to oblivion by his beautiful voice. This man had a magnificent voice, one that could not be described in words. He truly was talented…just like Spencer…At this, a sob escaped her throat and she buried her head in her arms, trying to cover her embarrassment and pain. Erik watched her, feeling numb. Perhaps he was selfish but her tears did not sway him. Her pain was real, but what did she truly know about suffering? What did she really know of loss? HE knew what agony was, what unbearable suffering was. He sat back and began to think of other things.

Because his escape plan had to be hurried, he had to improvise many things, which resulted in loss of life. He never enjoyed murder after the act. The thrill that came with killing used to be like a drug; he could never be satiated until the next time. Yet, over the years, his thirst for blood waned to such a point; he had no desire to take another's life. Perhaps it was the daroga or Madame Giry's influence, but he contributed it to Christine's presence in his life. She had brought out the best in him; the good he did not even know existed within his self.

Yet, the demons that had plagued him his entire life came back with a fiery vengeance as he remembered how he and the doctor had ended up on the train…

---The day prior…---

Erik had been awake, preparing for the escape. The day was bleak and rainy, which was perfect for him because it ensured camouflage. He had retrieved a bag from the supply closet and put all his supplies within it. He would commence the escape once lunchtime came around, for most of the attendants were outside on the covered patio and the patients were asleep from laudanum. The doctors would be out for lunch, but because of the gossiping women in the sanitarium, he knew that Dr. Willows ate her lunch in her office as she poured over files and her letters.

It was nearing eleven thirty in the morning and the attendants were taking an early lunch. Erik slipped out of the straitjacket and picked up the hidden bobby pin that he had taken from one of the orderly's hair to pick the lock on the door. Cautiously, he opened it and peered out in the halls. No one was there. The asylum was silent as the laudanum fed patients slept off their madness, but the masked man was not to be deterred. His entire body was tense, anticipating discovery or detection from one of the employees. Throwing his bag over one shoulder, he exited the room.

While outside the asylum, the sun usually shone brightly as the light touched all of the earth; yet within the asylum, the sunlight was lucky if a ray made it past a window. The sanitarium was dark and dank, only lit in certain areas so the shadows were prominent, which was perfectly fine to the masked man.

Darting from one shadow to the next, he was able to deflect any unwanted attention until he arrived to the medicine supply closet. He had retrieved his supplies, but he needed to complete his plan by getting some substances that would ensure his escape. Entering the small room, his eyes scanned the shelves as he picked up some highly flammable materials and liquids.

Once he picked up what he needed, he quietly slipped out of the room with his arms filled with dangerous substances. He ventured down the hallway as deftly as he had come but instead, he traveled away from his room to the doctor's room while creating five makeshift bombs. Passing a window, he saw the attendants smoking and conversing outside on the patio but he kept walking.

In the main hallway that led to the entrance, he placed one right outside the door and placed another in the middle of the corridor. Smiling slightly, he situated another explosive device three doors from the room of Doctor Willows. The black mask gleamed with malevolent glee then his smile faltered when he came upon Doctor Belier's office.

Immediately, the demons within him surged with hatred. This was the time for revenge. This was the time for retribution. He would be quick. He would be discreet. In his time at the asylum, he had quickly learned that the doctor worked diligently from noon to one without disturbance.

This would ensure discovery after it was too late to do anything. Placing the other two bombs outside his door, he silently entered the office. The doctor's office was littered with papers and files of patients. The room itself was rather small, but managed to have a massive amount of books upon various subjects such as theology, psychology, criminal minds, and medicine scattered on shelves that were placed on all four walls. There was a large oak desk in the back of the room with a couch and two chairs on the right in front of the bay window. Upon the desk, there were papers spread out all over under the small lamp as the doctor's gray head was down, pouring over his work.

He had no clue that Death had entered. Blissfully unaware of how much danger he was in, Erik approached the doctor with malicious and deliberately slow steps. His motions were sloth-like and calculated as he grasped a knife from the coffee-table that had been used for the doctor's biscuit breakfast.

When Belier finally heard Erik's footfalls, he did not even look up before he said to who he thought was an employee, "I haven't the time to deal with nuisances. I am working right now. Come back in half an hour."

Smirking, the masked man's deep and deadly voice responded as he cocked his head, "But Doctor Belier, you haven't that time left in your life."

Instantly, the doctor's head snapped up but Erik was quicker in his movements. Before Belier had a chance to alert personnel, the masked man flicked his wrist across his captor's throat in one clean slice.

The doctor's whole face was contorted in fear and his eyes wide with fright stared at Erik's smiling face before the blood poured out of the opening in the jugular vein. Erik laughed in spite of himself as the doctor's arms flailed across his desk, flinging papers all over the room as he died. He made soft gurgling sounds that caused blood to sputter out in small trails, which resembled tear trails on a woman's flushed cheeks. It was funny to Erik as the doctor tried to scream, but it was too late for Belier soon bled out.

His captor's head slammed down on the desk and blood just dribbled out all over the oak furniture. Walking behind the desk, the masked man grabbed the gray hair and jerked the doctor's head up to retrieve his handkerchief. Wiping the blood off the knife, he threw it over the dead man's head with a derisive reply, "Here is your handkerchief, Doctor. I suggest wiping your face, for it appears you have something on it."

Whistling softly, the masked man vacated the room the same way he had entered. Pulling out a matchbox he had stolen from one of the security guards two weeks prior, he set to work. Humming Debussy's Abaresque, he lit the two fuses of the bombs outside the doctor's room as well as the other three before he entered the lovely Serene's office. She was in a similar replica of an office like Dr. Belier's one. She was intently reading some papers and had not suspected or heard a thing. Good.

The masked man slipped his temporary satchel on the floor with a thud. Jumping in her seat, she looked up and gasped.

"Erik, how did y.."

She had not the chance to finish the sentence before the two bombs next to Dr. Belier's office detonated. There was a horrendous explosion that ripped through the corridor like the flood waters create an onslaught of detriment. Debris nearly ripped the door apart as the explosion passed by, causing a deep trembling beneath the room due to the fiery assault on the building's structure. Cries could be heard as the attendants and other employees rushed in to try and evacuate the patients.

A look of confused wonder crossed her features before realization hit her. She recognized he was finally escaping but did not try to stop it. Sighing heavily, she snatched some papers and stuffed them into her dress pockets. With his arms outstretched, he blocked her access from the door.

"Trust me when I say that you do not want to go that way."

As testimony to his words, a massive series of explosions ripped through the already fractured structure. There was a deep moaning as the building began to collapse. Grabbing a chair, he threw it out of the window, shattering the glass.

Turning towards her in a majestic pivot, he caught sight of her. She looked terrified as the walls began to sway; fear had her too petrified to move. His skeletal hands snatched her arms pulling her body to his as he jumped out of the window. The two fell with a hard thud on the ground but were unscathed unlike some who had been blown apart in the sanitarium. Sirens were coming closer and for a moment, the two stared at the asylum while one was horrified, the other was awestruck by his handiwork.

People were trapped still and their cries were echoing in the ears and hearts of those who had escaped. There was no way to save them. Closing her eyes, Serene tried to steady her nerves as well as calm down to keep from alerting attention to the two because she knew if he felt cornered, more people would die.

The cries melded together into a dreadfully sickening wail as the trapped patients and attendants saw their skin melting off their bodies as the fire slowly consumed the rooms. Suddenly, the cries stopped and there was only silence…The crackling of the fire that had now engulfed the entire asylum created a huge mass of black smoke that nearly suffocated the neighboring buildings.

"Get up."

Her green eyes snapped to his gold ones after his authoritative command. Erik almost smiled when he saw the defiance taking over them. In one moment, she had managed to get on her feet as he did the same. Shaking a finger at him, she berated him.

"You…How could you?!"

"Whatever do you mean? If given the chance, any patient would have tried to escape this hellhole."

"You killed innocent people!"

"Did I? I am just as innocent as those that just died."

For a brief moment, the anger left her face as she tried to process what he said. "What are you telling me? You are innocent in what?"

"Forget it, we are leaving now." His stoic reply did nothing to remove the curiosity from Serene's mind. So…perhaps not even he knew what happened to Christine. Interesting. When she did not move fast enough, Erik snatched her arm forcefully and pulled her.

The air was cold and damp from the dreary day as the two dodged the police and others trying to put the fire out. Erik's eyes darted back and forth, observing and evaluating all as they continued to the heart of the city from the various alleyways. Dressed in a dirty long sleeve white shirt and dirty black trousers, the masked man was shivering from cold and adrenaline while Serene sweated from the fear and exertion. She had to work twice as hard to keep up with him; she knew that he would not hesitate to kill her if she lagged behind too long. He moved swiftly and deftly, never making a mistake in his footsteps or faltering once: truly graceful. Stopping right at the end of the alleyway, the city's marketplace was alive and buzzing with people and commerce. Peeking around in both directions, the masked man saw that there were police everywhere.

It did not take long for the Captain to realize that the patient responsible for the chaos had been the former Phantom. The whole city was put on alert as a 'crazed masked murderer' was on the loose. They did not know that Serene was with him, and for that, Erik knew he had the upper-hand. If worst came to worst, he could always use a hostage situation to get his way.

Despite the heavily dense street, he knew that he would easily be spotted with his mask. Sighing with anger, he looked all about him in search of an alternate route. Then he turned to the woman behind him. She had her arms crossed and a contemplative look on her face. Pointing to the rooftop her eyes met his, and she spoke, agitation plain in her tone.

"Why don't we take the rooftops instead? You can slip away unnoticed and the train station is at least two blocks south, which will leave you plenty of time to get there."

"Why should I trust you?"

"Why should you not? I have done nothing but try and help you."

"You still think I killed her."

"No, I think you are trying to go find her."

Before he could say anything else, Serene had hoisted herself on the ladder and was traveling up to the roof. Cocking his head to the side in disbelief, he was slightly impressed with this fire spirit of a woman. She was proving to be just as an unpredictable enigma as he was. Shrugging to himself, he dexterously followed behind her. When the two reached the rooftop, the entire city was in view.

Casting a lonely and sad look towards the black smoke-enveloped sanitarium, she turned towards him, waiting. Nodding, he motioned for her to follow him. Running at full speed, he hurled all of his weight as he jumped over the edge of the roof. Quietly, he momentarily flew through the air before he rolled to his feet on the next building's roof. He anticipated the doctor to flee but instead she reciprocated his movement and was standing next to him the next moment. They were two stories above the Parisian police, and Erik was thankful that he did not have to kill anyone else.

As if the two had hidden wings, they flew from rooftop to rooftop. At one point, the doctor lost her footing and nearly fell two stories down, but Erik caught her and pulled her to safety quite easily. He was strong and she knew that she had to play her cards right because he was capable of killing her.

Soon, the sound of train whistles could be heard and the buildings became few and far between. Sighing heavily, the masked man stopped. He was trembling and the two inhaled deeply to catch their breaths. Soon, though, Erik became paranoid and the two continued to the station. Cascading down a ladder, he waited for Serene to follow while he looked around him to make sure no one was in the dark alleyway.

When her feet touched the ground, his mask was centimeters away from hers. He whispered to her urgently and diligently like a commander to his men, "This is what you are going to do. You are going to the attendant at the station and purchase two tickets to Madrid. I will be in the shadows and do not think for one second of alerting attention or trying to get away because I will find you and make you regret it. You will enter the train, and I shall already be on. I will find you. Do you understand?"

"I haven't any money. You burned it, remember?"

Her sarcasm was ignored as the masked man grumbled with irritation. "Wait here."

She did not dare disobey his order and impatiently waited. Soon enough the masked man returned with funds. Looking at him, her eyes squinted, "Where did you get this?"

"An old gypsy trick...that is all that you need to know. Now go."

Serene tightly held the money in her hands as she walked quickly to the train stations. People, too busy to notice the frazzled woman, continued to walk past her without incident. The station was bustling, something she knew Erik was appreciative of. She went to the window where a bored looking man of twenty sat. She ordered the tickets and paid for them but hesitated for a moment. The boy looked at her and she spoke two words, words she would soon regret.

"Tell Spencer…"

The boy looked at her puzzled and fearfully, wondering if she was sane. "Who is Spencer, lady?"

Alarmed she glanced around her as Erik's voice penetrated her mind, "Leave now." Casting a pleading glance at the disturbed attendant, she sprinted away. Handing her ticket to the station manager, she entered the black locomotive and took her seat, her hands trembling incessantly. Soon enough, a rather large shadow of a figure took a seat next to her. For a brief moment, she peered at him, taking in the silhouette of a man. He turned to her.

He had obviously had sneaked on the train, stole a suit, and took a fedora to cover his masked face before sitting next to her. Handing her a petticoat that belonged to another woman she was sure, he then held his other hand out.

Placing the ticket in his hand, she scowled at him. The ticket manager happened to walk by and noticed the dark figure.

"Monsieur, I need to see your ticket."

Gruffly, Erik shoved the ticket at the man's face. The elder inquisitively looked at Serene and her scowled countenance then at the man's menacing demeanor. Chalking it all up to a lovers' quarrel, he nodded and made his way to the front of the train without reply.

When the train began to pull away from the station, did Serene and Erik move to the specified cabin. It was there that the two got to truly talk and Erik spoke first.

"You are very lucky to be alive after the stunt you pulled."

"You are very lucky to have made it on the train alive undetected."

"The Parisian police would assume I had no money to get on the train. They probably believe I hijacked a carriage."

"I wouldn't put it past you. And I would advise you not to underestimate Captain Agnew; he knows how resourceful you can be. "

"Agnew is a pompous idiot. Why do you suddenly have all this hostility towards me now?"

"Well, I just realized that you murdered a mass of people, probably killed Dr. Belier first, are going to put my husband through hell, and I just thought that…"

She sighed heavily at the end, not finishing the sentence but he knew what she was trying to say. Finishing the sentence for her, "You thought that since you helped me, I would let you go. Sorry my dear, it appears that I need you longer than that."

Glaring at him, her green eyes lit up with a fiery resentment.

"Tell the truth, Erik. You plan on never letting me go. Once I have served my purpose, you are going to kill me just like Belier."

Shrugging he closed his eyes and reclined in his seat. Spreading out his long legs he merely stated, "You are guaranteed death if you try and escape. You might as well get some sleep. This train ride shall be rather uneventful."

The two did not sleep well, both haunted by inner demons and tumultuous feelings. The next day, the masked man noticed that Serene was developing a growing resentment of him. He knew it was because her fear of never seeing her husband again was creating the increasing bitterness towards him, and he did not blame her for it.

What they did not know was that a man had followed them silently all the way to the train. Pulling out a pistol, he stared at it with increasing agitation. In the neighboring cabin to Desslar's, he waited and was determined to take care of Desslar for good when the moment was right. He just had to make sure that the doctor remained unscathed in the end.

---Somewhere far from Paris---

A gorgeous woman of blond hair and uninhibited blue sapphire eyes made her way to the small garden on a beautifully warmer day. She had been in the house for long enough and wanted to get some of her flowers to lighten up the rooms.

Her garden had grown from a patch of dirt to an exquisite array of colors that seemed to blend in perfectly with the delightful scenery that was her homeland. Humming a tune she thought familiar yet had never heard before, she tended to the plants by trimming stems and pruning the dead leaves off.

So immersed in her thoughts, she failed to notice one of the attendants to the property approach. Alonzo Kier was a stable boy who tended to the horses on the vast property and had been with the family since they moved in two years ago.

He was only at the tender age of fifteen where adults looked down on you and little kids looked up to you; he had led a tumultuous life until he found peace and comfort working for the kind family here at the small farm.

"Mademoiselle Murdock, your mother wants you within the house soon. Dinner is prepared and she wants you to get prepared for some guests that are to be arriving soon."

Nodding that she had heard him, he went away. Not heeding his request, she soon heard her mother call her from the front door of the home.

"Christine! Christine! Do come in. You cannot stay out here till dusk; we are expecting some arrivals!"

Sighing contentedly and slightly irked, she abandoned her work at the garden to go inside her home. Slightly surprised at the prospect of people arriving, she was not sure what to make of this situation. In all the time on the farm, her mother never had people come over.

Never acknowledging anything, Christine believed her mother somewhat overprotective over her although she did not know why. Whenever she talked to anyone outside the farm, her mother would scornfully rebuke her actions, claiming that they were hiding from her abusive father and they could not afford to be recognized.

Most days, Christine tended to the garden, sang songs, wrote in her diary, or read the latest books. Rarely did she ever leave the farm, and if she did, her mother was not far behind. Sometimes Christine wished that she could break free and go on her own. Secretly, she sometimes felt that there was more to the story that her mother was telling her. Perhaps she had another life somewhere, but she would then laugh and chalk it all up to an overactive imagination.

Retreating to the small but quaint farm house, she wondered about these arrivals and what they had to do with her mother. She could only speculate because her mother never told her anything, especially any questions that her daughter had.

----Harbor outside Madrid----

Spencer had seemed to recover a little more strength and courage with each day that brought him closer to the woman he loved. Raoul and he had grown to be closer than friends and more like brothers with the common feelings the two shared.

Word had been sent to the two that Nadir Khan would be waiting for them and true to his word, he was. The men, carrying their luggage, met the Persian at the end of the dock next to the carriage.

Raoul and the dark-skinned man nodded their greeting before Spencer politely introduced himself. Shaking hands, the Persian then helped load their luggage on the carriage before they all entered the coach to get away from the nosy port of bustling people and screeching seagulls.

Once inside, Raoul and Spencer both noticed a grave look on the elder man's face, and immediately dread filled their hearts. Something bad must have happened. Sighing heavily, the Persian handed a newspaper to the Vicomte reluctantly meeting Spencer's hazel eyes. The confusion in Chagny's eyes slowly was replaced by dismay as he read a certain article, then he turned to his friend and shared the bad news.

"I am so sorry to inform you of this, Spencer, but it appears our masked man escaped."

White hot fear burned its way up to his throat in the form of nausea as panic filled his body. As long as Serene was fine, who cares if the masked man escaped?

The blue eyes of his friend were downcast as he continued in a low dread-filled voice, "I wish I did not have to be the one to tell you this but he somehow set fire to the asylum. At least thirty were burned alive; one of them was Dr. Belier."

Tears burned his eyes as angry denial replaced Spencer's pain.

"No. No! It can't be true! I won't believe it! She has to be alive!"

Shaking his head pitifully, Raoul looked at his shattered friend with compassion. Using a soothing voice, he tried to explain, "Spence, there was no way she could have survived. Her office was next door to Belier's. There is nothing left of the asylum. All we can do is find the masked man and make sure he pays for what he did to Christine and…"

Whipping his head violently to Raoul, Spencer threw his finger in the Vicomte's direction as tears poured down his face.

"NO! Don't you say it! Don't you use her name in past tense; she is alive! I know it! I would be able to feel it if she was not alive!"

Suddenly, Willows began to hyperventilate as he tried to absorb the fact that his lover, his wife was dead…dead at that bastard's hands! Never had he felt as much rage and fury in his life as he did now. He could kill Erik with his bare hands, and if it was the last thing he did, Spencer would find that masked man and make him pay.

Nadir and Raoul had managed to hold Spencer down while he thrashed about and cried out in agony for Serene when out of nowhere, the man stopped shifting and became utterly still. Lifeless, the two watched the grieving man sit back lifelessly silent. Looking at each other worried, Nadir and Raoul were puzzled by the man's sudden immobile reticence. When Raoul tried to reach him, Spencer would not move or even react to his voice.

"I promise you, Spencer, on my life that we will find that masked freak and bring him to justice. He will not get away from us. He will not hurt anyone else. I will make it right for you, my friend. Just trust me."

While the Vicomte had not seen this before, Nadir Khan certainly had. Many times in his homeland, grief was not outwardly expressed. Raoul's head turned towards the Persian in wonder as Nadir shook his head.

"What's wrong with him?"

Pressing his hand over eyes, Nadir then massaged his temples with his fingers before answering mechanically, "It appears that our young man has fallen into a catatonic state."

A/N: The song "Ashes and Wine" is a BEAUTIFUL song written and sung by A Fine Frenzy. I loved it and thought it fit. So, how do you all like this story so far? Again, I am sorry for the long update. Next chapter—More Erik/Serene battles, Christine meets some strangers, and Raoul tries to reach Spencer but to no avail…and someone is watching the masked man and doctor aboard the train…What about Madame Giry? What will she do when she realizes what Erik has done?—As always, please review!

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