Erik acted quickly, shouting orders towards Evangeline as Raoul charged him. "Get your cloak, put on all the clothes you can, and forget everything el-" His voice was interrupted as Raoul made forceful contact with his body, all the while yelling for assistance.

His body hit the floor and Raoul took siege of it, clawing at Erik's face and bashing his head onto the ground with his delicate hands, making blood seep from his scalp. Yet Erik was only toying with him; the longer Raoul kept busy with his destruction, the less notice he would take to his young sister fleeing. The less he would scream for the guards who were undoubtedly rushing up the stair case in the foyer anyways. Perhaps he should silence him completely. Erik changed positions and soon enough had pinned the weak ViComte on the ground.

Evangeline sped through the room placing garments upon herself. She had replaced the skirts she had removed and was in the process of tying her cloak when she heard the uniform trample of guardsmen feet trampling towards the room.

Her tiny fingers knotted it at last, placed gloves upon her fingers and tied a gray wool scarf around her neck. She turned to Erik in horror.

The lasso lay around Raoul's neck like a gemmed necklace, his face turning ruby colored. Erik's own face contorted with effort; his grip never ceasing although Raoul's hands clawed at them.

"No!" Evangeline screamed. It didn't phase him however, and he continued, having started something that compelled him to finish.

Raoul was going limp beneath his fingers, just a moment more, just a moment…

Evangeline thudded against him, freeing Raoul's neck an inch and enabling his breathes. Erik gasped and glared at her; those gray eyes seeming clouded by malevolence once again. "No, Erik, please, He is unconscious now, let's go."

He shook from his madness, and returned to sanity as his brain began to process her logic. "I need you to hold on to me Evangeline," She nodded, and he leaned for her to grip onto his back. She had just finished placing herself when the she heard the first bullet wiz by their heads.

Erik ran faster than he ever had, as though no girl were attached to his back, as though he were inhuman. But what he ran towards scared his feeble pregnant girl worse than anything.

It was an open window 2 stories up.

Bullets began to fly through the walls, the cowardly guards hiding behind the wooden divider. He was flying now, as though his feet weren't touching the ground. But he was stopped soon enough when a bullet slid through his arm. Hesitating to cringe only for a moment, continuing towards the window with an increased pace. And then not even hesitating, he met it.

Evangeline screamed as they flew through the open air, their bodies no longer contacted by comforting earth. Only deadly gravity. Her cloak flew upwards above them like useless wings.

It was so sudden that they were place once again, as mid-flight, Erik had twisted their bodies and grabbed onto the balcony of the room beside Evangeline's. She was gasping for breath, but was surprised to hear he was breathing evenly. He was trained for this; all of those years of parkour within the opera house coming to such an advantage, the adrenaline removing any wheezes his injured arm might have brought.

He kept his movements as limited as possible as he dropped and scaled his way downwards towards the earth. He had no intention of upsetting his unborn baby, or of risking its life more than need be. They listened to the bullets piercing through the walls above them as he made his final drop to earth.

"Raoul will be fine, he was laying down." He heard her whisper under her breath as he pulled her from the uncomfortable position on his back to her own two feet. He turned to her, making a notion of silence as he lifted his finger against his lips. She nodded and he pressed her body against the wall with his arm, bumping slightly her swollen womb. He walked silently in the snow, peering over the corner, calculating the risk of an open run towards the woods. It was low, as he determined, and he edged to corner, pressing Evangeline's body against his to kiss her before they ran. It was interrupted as he heard the front door burst open, soldiers pouring out of the large door on their side of the corner.

"Run towards home" He breathed, pointing to the woods, shoving her past the corner gently and urgently. She picked up her pace and launched herself towards the trees, catching the eye of the guards who couldn't tell perpetrator from house member. Erik got between them, creating illusion after illusion with his cloak to be perceived and shot at. He ran in the opposite direction abruptly, having the guards follow the bigger threat instead of some feeble girl. His legs ran faster and faster towards the opposite set of woods, there wasn't a high chance they could catch him if they tried at this rate. But he was in the open, and he didn't like the idea that they possibly could. He was not in his natural territory, this was open, and visible. There would be no hiding until he reached the woods. Blood droplets from his arm stained the snow.

Yes perhaps he would make it, and they should be together again. They could raise their son- yes he shouldn't assume these things but in his gut he thinks it will be a boy- Yes they will raise their son in some new place, deep into the country. They would pick strawberries every summer, have tea in the evenings, Evangeline would sing him to sleep every night, and Erik would tell him stories of the great Opera house all day long; tell him stories of the monster who once skulked its halls. The monster that was tamed by a beauty and her green eyes. Oh let him have her green eyes.

Yes, the skirts of the trees are so close now. The future is touchable, He could grasp it as if it were a thing-yet just steps away and they would be together. And they would be happy.

A bullet pierced through his leg bone, shattering and mangling it beyond working order. He collapsed there; his future flying in the opposite direction, pregnant and lost in the frozen, murderous woods, his present approaching in the shape of unavoidable and victorious guards.

"Run towards home" He whispered, praying that she got there. The guards came closer to their prize, but Erik only scooted forwards and away as they laughed and kicked snow at him. He struggled as they walked leisurely. He pushed forward though it pained him. Only to make it to the trees. Only to be free, and be with her-but that hope is dashed. That dream is gone. He could never climb fast enough, he could never hide with all this blood-ink on the map that would lead them to him. He will be captured, and hung, as the hangman deserves so rightfully in the end.

He had been the hangman for so long, and the blood he now lost was little compared to the blood he had spilt.

"Run towards home," Erik thought.

There would be no strawberries in the summer, no tea in the evenings, no singing his young son to sleep, all there will be are stories.

Stories of a monster .