Hi Guys, soooo sorry that I have taken so long to update but I have literally had no time at all to write. Everytime I sat down to type, I had to go do something else! So this is the new chapter! Here Katia confronts The phantom on why he killed Bouquet and shite hits the fan!

Chapter 9: Music of the Past

I run as fast as I can down to the Phantoms lair. We have lessons, but how on earth could I concentrate with the thought of Bouquet just hanging from the... I cannot even think of it. How could he just take a mans life? It makes me sick, why am I down here?

When I arrive at the lair, I rush to the piano scurrying through sheets upon sheets of music. 'E.D.' everywhere. If he had written music, why had he not made himself famous and left this dark place? Was it because of his 'face'. What on earth was wrong with it? What could be that bad?

My behavior becomes more crazy as I jump from the piano and rummage through his belongings, his ribbons, roses, pictures of the opera, drawings and displays of the stage and a large red curtain. Curiosity gets the better of me and I lift the curtain up over my head. Why is he so obsessed with the opera? Does he not know there is more to life than being stuck on the outside and watching and waiting? Why does he not tell Christine how he feels? Sure she is with Raoul but that has not stopped others?

I turn around and gasp in horror. There, right in front of my eyes was a mannequin. With CHRISTINE'S FACE! WHAT ON EARTH?!

I storm out from the curtain, feeling slightly... betrayed? WHY would I feel betrayed. I do not know, I could feel something, deep down in my stomach, and it made me feel sick.

I collapse on the stone steps once again, and burst into tears. Why is he this way? Obsessing over Christine, someone he could never have, and killing to prove his point? Would he kill me to prove his point? I wish I could tell someone, anyone!

Just then, a short sharp slam, echos through the lair. He must be coming, what should I do?

Erik comes around the corner, stamping and throwing candelabras, shoving papers here, there and everywhere. Oh lord, he is mad...

"Katia?" he calls, looking around. He notices me as I lift my head up from my knees. I shake so much, I can't control it.

"Why," I shout at him, slowly getting up to my feet. "Why did you murder him? And in front of all those people?"

He attempts to come to me but I back away and grab the first weapon of defense I could find, which happened to be a large lit candle. I hold it in front of me.

"Stay away from me!" I sense the apprehension in his stance, he tries to reason with me, but I don't want to listen. How can I trust him? He could take a life with no regret or emotions? He would take mine without so much a blink. I cannot let him kill me.

"Katia, I'm not going to kill you! I had to kill Bouquet! Christine has to fear me or she will not do as I ask!"

I laugh nervously, ask? "How is it asking, if she has no choice but to obey? You cannot control everyone, leave Christine alone!"

I had taken it too far. He warned me before of what might happen if I come between him and Christine. He lunges at me and grabs my arm causing me to drop the candle. I push him but he does not budge. Instead he proceeds to grab my neck in his hands and pulls me against him, his arm squeezing my torso. I can barely breathe as his large gloved hand tightens against my frail frame.

"Christine is mine! She belongs with me!" he growls! His voice laced with venomous anger. Oh God, have mercy on me.

"Wh-hy her?" I stutter, any longer and I won't be alive! I have to convince him to let me go. Then I can get the heck out of here!

"Why her?! She is my muse, my angel of music! Nobody else matters, no one else cares!" Bingo...

I struggle to move up and make his hand leave me some room to breathe but his iron grip stays intact.

"I c-care," I manage, blackness threatens to cloud my vision, he must let me go! I gasp a slight sigh of relief as he tenses and his hand releases my throat just that little bit.

"You do?" He asks calmer with a lot of confusion. I twist myself to turn and face him, hoping to make him see some sense and allow me to leave.

"Yes, of course I care. You and I... I thought we were becoming friends. Friends care about each other, Erik." I lift my hand to graze his face, but he flinches away slightly, fearing I may clutch his mask I presume.

"I... you...leave. You must leave this place. Never come here again." He stumbles over his words, bewildered. His arm still around my waist, Erik ushers me toward the boat. What? He wants me to just leave?

"I can't just leave! Why are you pushing me away?" I pull away and from his grasp and stand by the boat arms folded. I am getting the truth from him. I don't know why I am so adamant to be nice to him, he almost killed me again. Why aren't I running from him, for my life?

"How can you care?! HOW!" Erik storms toward me and yelling in my face.

"Because you helped me with my piano, I am really good thanks to you, you are amazing at music! You have talent and you're wasting it staying here and hiding from the world like a recluse!" My arms flail in dramatics as I shout back. If this is what we were going to, they by all means we will have a shouting match!

"I recluse from the world because the world is repulsed by me, by my face! I have known nothing of friendship or happiness!"

"I am not repulsed, it cannot be that bad!" I stand forward and realise that now I am face to face with the Phantom of the Opera staring deep into my eyes with heated anger.

"Well let me show you, what is that bad, that a mother abandons her own child and leaves them to the circus!"

With unexpectancy, he whips of his mask and bares his deformed face to me. This was it? THIS was THE face of hell? I had seen much worse. It reminds me of that time when my aunt burned her arm on the fireplace. She blamed it on me of course, confining me to my room for two days. This cannot be the face that everyone claims to be? The devils face?

I jump a little at how close we are to each other. His breath is heavy on my face, he seems like he might cry. I feel incredibly sorry for him, so I do the only thing that I think will make him feel better.

Lifting my hands to his deformed face, I stroke the scars and the marks, the indents and the red patches. I plant a small kiss on his cheek and pull back hesitantly.

WAAHHH I AM A BIATCH for leaving in this part of the story but yeah, I didnt know how else to end it and I wanted this up already so here ya go! Hopefully you guys liked it, I will be updating my other story too, so yey! Thank you to everyone who faved and Followed! :D