Disclaimer: I do not own Erik, or Meg, or Madame Giry, or any other characters from the ingenious mind of Gaston Leroux! Anne just currently resides in my head until she's done telling her story. She's getting alone quite well with all of the other voices that reside up there. :)

AN: Alright, so this chapter is where the "T" rating comes in. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

Chapter 36

He had never wanted to kiss a woman so badly in his entirely life until he had been faced with this moment. Even his once beloved Christine could not have made him feel the way that he did at this exact moment. Anne was like some sort of melody he just could not get out of his head. He knew he shouldn't have risked it and come to the de Chagny manor and whisk her away as he did. Someone, anyone, could have seen them, and he knew that it didn't take much for a woman's honor to be lost. But he would rescue her, just as he promised he would.

There were a thousand things he had wanted to say to her, a thousand promises to make, and a single vow that just begged to be made. But to kiss her, to actually kiss her lips, was a glimpse of heaven that he wanted before anything else in this world. He would have given his life just to have one kiss from Anne. He dared to dream of everything else, for he knew that she would never be his…not once she saw his face, which he knew that if was to truly have her, she would have to see it. But not now. No, not now. Now, his fingers ran through her dark tresses and untied her mask. He saw her beautiful eyes that appeared white in the moonlight. He saw her lips part and her eyes close in invitation. Did he dare take such the precious gift for what it was? Yes…yes, he did.

"Anne! Anne, where are you?! They're getting ready for the unmasking."

Erik made a mental note to throttle Meg Giry at the first possible second she was alone. Anne, instantly drew away, her eyes wide with shock.

"Erik…she can't see you here."

"It's just, Meg."

"Yes, but with Meg could be the Vicomte and Christine, and I will not let you risk your life on my account."

"You will not?" Since when did she have that sort of say?

"Erik, please. I…I…believe me, I want you to stay here with me, and…but you must go!" She pushed at his chest that Erik knew that he had to go. He had no desire to see the happy married couple, but he wanted to stay for Anne.

"Come see me, tomorrow."

"Yes, for there is something we have to talk about. I will come tomorrow. I promise. Now, go!"

Erik disappeared into the night, not stopping until he reached the sanctity of his home. He had been so close! Why was he being constantly denied of the one thing he wanted the most?!

I watched him leave, until I was sure that he was out of sight and into safety. I could not bear to have anything happen to him, now that I had just found him. He took my heart with him, I had to make sure that he was safe.

"Anne, what are you doing out here?" Meg came up behind me, and I tried hard not to be mad at her. She was just trying to look out for me, like I did her, but she did pick the most inconvenient times to be concerned.

"I…came out for some fresh air."

"You disappeared in there. One minute you were dancing with Raoul, the next you were gone." Christine came up and took my hands. "You're trembling!"

"I'm…cold…" I was without Erik's warmth now, and I felt cold both inside and out. "I…I need to go inside."

Meg wrapped her arm around me and helped me inside. She secured my mask, which as pointless as the Vicomte and Vicomtess made their way to the front of the ballroom on to a small stage and declared that as it was midnight, everyone should take off their masks and reveal who they were. Meg did so with a joyful smile on her face and I will admit that it was a pleasant feeling seeing everyone stare in shock at not being able to recognize her. Meg told me later that she intended to be a true woman of mystery and bow out of the spotlight so that she would surprise them all when she danced the Swan Lake ballet.

The curiosity was the same as my mask fell away, but they were still not quite sure what to think as my face had been painted with an almost replica of my mask, so it was still hard to determine who I was. Still, Meg and I determined that it was time for us to return home, despite the fact that our admirers were lining up to talk to us. Christine gave us a fond farewell, and I said not a word to the Vicomte, his words still ever ringing in my ears.

The entire carriage ride home, Meg was talking about the ball and who she danced with and who she thought they really were. She made up stories about who was an earl, a duke, a baron, or even a real prince. I paid attention as well as I could, but in truth I was only half-heartedly listening. I didn't want to wait till tomorrow to see Erik. I wanted to see him now and to tell him what I felt, and to wonder if maybe, just maybe he could feel the same way about me too. The carriage deposited us at the usual spot and Meg said that she wanted to go see her mother to tell her all about the ball. I had thought that her mother would have been in bed long before now, but Meg was determined.

I went on ahead and made my way to our room, wishing that I could go and find Erik, but I didn't want to risk getting lost in the almost completely dark Opera House. I stood in front of my dresser, set my mask aside, and took off the diadem. As I gently placed it on my dresser I saw a small piece of paper folded on my dresser with my name written on it. I picked up and saw a to words written on it: The Chapel. Instinctively knowing that it was Erik, I didn't bother with taking off my costume and hastened to the chapel, being able to find my way completely by memory.

When I got here, the candelabra was completely lit, and there was no Erik. I called out for him, knowing he would be just behind the walls, waiting for me.

"Erik? Erik, I'm here."

I waited for what seemed like an eternity, and then I heard a slow steady breath. I turned to the doorway, for that was where I was sure he was standing. I turned to greet him with a smile on my face, but my smile quickly faded and my shoulders slumped.

"Faucher, I have no desire to see you tonight. You will kindly leave." I felt my heart quicken in fear when he stepped into the room and shut the door. I heard the faint click of a lock, but I did not see a key. "Didn't you hear me? I said leave!"

"You know, Anne, women are so gullible. They'll believe anything, just as you believed that it was your…what was it Erik, who gave you that note."

"You left it?"

"I was here when you met up with your lover the last time. I heard you talking, as I stood on the other side of that door. You know, you should really be more careful with when you think that no one is listening."

"You let me out of here, Faucher. I will not tell you again."

"I'm amazed at how you think that you get to be the one that gives the orders here." He smiled and fear struck cold at my heart as well as an old memory that had long since been suppressed. "You see, I actually work here all the time, while you just serve your little uses and then live off the charity of others. So, I actually outrank you, so it's me who gives the orders here."

I looked about the room, trying to find something to fend him off, and found only the candelabra. That was not going to prove any use at all. There was nothing. I was defenseless, and had no way to protect myself against this madman.

"Do you know, that every girl here knows that I get what I want from them, and I…let them live?"

I saw a glimmer of a knife and I felt my knees give out. I crumpled to the floor, orders and commands from another mouth ringing loud in my ears.

"So…you do what I say, and you don't put up any struggle, and I'll let you live to see the daylight of the morning."

"Do as I say…no harm will come to you…be a good little girl…" The words replayed over and over in my head like a broken record.

"No!" I screamed. I somehow found strength in my legs and I managed to stand up. I tried to get away but Faucher was far too strong. He tried to grab my arm but grabbed my dress instead. I felt the fabric give and tear and I fell against the stone wall. My ears ringing, darkness threatening to overtake me. I struggled to stay focused, determined not to let go of the light flickering from the candles.

I looked at Faucher and found him holding the better part of my dress. I saw my legs exposed and tried to find someway to cover myself. I knew that this would end up being a losing battle no matter how hard I fought. The stark reality of what I had only believed to be nightmares came into sharp focus. The puzzle picture finally became clear.

He stalked closer to me, the knife raised to do damage if I gave him any struggle. Fear paralyzed me, and I tried to scream, doubtful that anyone could hear me. I could only think of Erik, and how I wished that he had kissed me, and that I could have told him how much I cared about him…that I loved him.

"I honestly think that Anne's gone to bed, Mother. She seemed really tired." Meg opened the door to their bedroom, curious as to why her mother seemed so anxious to see Anne. When she lit a candle, Meg and Madame Giry both saw that the bed was empty and that Anne was not there. "Huh, that's funny. She couldn't have gone anywhere…" She sat her mask aside and started working on the fastenings of her dress.

"Meg, who left this note?"

She looked up to find her mother holding a piece of paper. "No, unless that's from the Opera Ghost, I couldn't think of anyone who would leave her a note."

"It would be signed if it was from, and this isn't."

"Maybe she's found a secret admirer." She finished with the fastenings and slipped the dress off, entirely missing the apprehensive look that came over her mother's face. The trace of fear, quickly replaced with a mask long worn.

"Meg, you get some sleep, and I'll see you in the morning."

"Alright, mother," Meg replied, entirely lost in her own world.

Madame Giry quickly ran out and went to the nearest place that would trip Erik's security that he had a visitor. She didn't have to wait long in the corridor as he almost seemed to be expecting someone. His face turned to a harsh anger upon seeing her.

"You better have a good excuse, Madame."

"Is Anne with you?"

"No, she is not. Why do you ask?"

"I think she may be in some trouble. Here, I found this note in her room. I thought maybe you would have sent it."

"I have no need to send notes to her." He took it anyway and read it. "Who would ask her to come to the chapel."

"I think you know the answer just as well as I do."

Erik's blood ran cold and a few unlike any he had ever known caused him to tremble. "Faucher." Leaving Madame Giry to run on as fast as she could, Erik sped down the hallway and to the chapel. He hoped that she was not really there, and that the man that waited for her had thought better of his ridiculous scheme.

The door was shut when he reached the chapel, but he could hear voices on the other side. He heard his precious Anne…and he heard her scream. The door, one of his own devices, was impossible to open from the outside. He had to find a second way in, and luckily he had built a doorway in the wall that opened to a walkway that had a door that opened into the chapel.

What he saw made his blood boil with rage. Anne was pinned against the wall, her dress in tatters, the make-up of her face streaked with her tears. Faucher with one hand had a knife pressed against her throat, the other was fumbling with the buttons of his trousers. There was no time to think, only to act. He raced into the room grabbing Faucher and throwing him across the room. He had a brief moment of clarity and opened the door because Madame Giry was undoubtedly right behind him.

"Anna…are you alright?" He gently held her, checking to see if she had any broken bones. The sight of the gash on her neck and the bruise across face made him almost violent.

"Behind you!" She screamed, giving Erik only a split second to turn and see Faucher coming at him with his knife raised just barely a foot away from his back.

The Punjab Lasso was ready, though he swore that he would never use it again. It was over with a simple flick of the wrist. Faucher's neck was broken, and he lay dead upon the stone floor.

"Anne!" Madame Giry raced in and began checking her niece to see if there was any sort of mortal blow on her. "What happened?"

"I came here…thinking that…Erik….needed to speak with me." Her sobs tore at her until she was entirely hysterical.

"Erik, we can't take her back to Meg's room. She'll know."

"My home. It's the only safe place for her. She can recover there." Erik quickly took his cloak and he threw it over Anne, covering her. He tried to pick her up but she shrank from his touch and turned only to her Aunt. He tried not tell himself that it was the hysterics that made her shrink away but he couldn't quite convince himself. She had just seen him kill a man…well, as close to a man as Faucher could be classified.

"I'll help her. I think walking will do her good." Madame Giry helped her niece stand, and Erik opened the secret passageway, but when he looked back he saw Anne flitting between consciousness and sleep. She crumbled to the floor again and gripped at her Aunt's robe.

"Aunt…I remember."

"You remember what, Anne?" The fear in Antoinette's voice was clearly heard by Erik.

"The music teacher…I remember what he did to me. It wasn't a nightmare. It really happened!" And then, Anne was lost to sleep.

AN: Did not like to write this scene, but it had to happen. We know now what happened to Anne...now we have to know why. And we shall!