Chapter zero: Memento

N.B: Hello there! I am Dusk Evermore and this is my first fan fiction (and venture into sharing my writing online) so I am somewhat nervous. This is a fanfiction based on the phantom of the opera and draws inspiration from the book and the Google app game. I take no credit for the characters and the world they are based in. The title of the story is a song by the singer Emille Autumn and I also take no credit for that. I hope you enjoy the story and its chapters! Thank you very much in advance for reading this! =) Edit: in my excitement I forgot to put my chapter number and title in my text body, I am really sorry about that..Hopefully it should be corrected now =)

'"You are my everything,
You are my light,
You are my Angel,
And now...You will be my...'"

...

Her hand connected with his mask so quickly that he could not stop her. It happened so suddenly that he could not hide the surprise from his face, even as she recoiled in horror from him.

His damaged hand flew to his cheek and it was only when he did not feel the smooth surface of the mask but his own ugliness did he realise what had happened. She had betrayed him, she had exposed his hell.

Yet he smiled, noted how she flinched back even more as his lips curved. Unbidden, breathless laughter began to dance upon his twisted lips. He began to walk slowly towards her while he chuckled.

"Oh Christine," He began to whisper. "My dear, dear love. Are you satisfied to see me now? To see the face of this poor Erik?"

He halted when he was inches away from her and noticed how she trembled before him. His smile faded and in it's place a snarl danced upon his lips, in a hissed tone he continued to speak.

"Is my countenance unbecoming for the heavenly being you thought I was? Does it not match my voice? Am I not what you envisioned?"

He grasped her hands in a sudden movement, he barely heard her gasp as he began to shout.

"Am I not handsome, Christine!? Isn't this poor Erik everything you dreamed of under his mask!? Behold me, Christine! Behold the man who loves you! Behold the dead man who adores you!"

He forced her hands to touch his face, he ignored her sobbed out gasps as he traced every part of his countenance with her hands. He made sure she would feel The Ruin of his face in it's entirety, and he would show her no mercy. After all, she had unmasked him. She had forced him to do this, for in his minds eye he could see what she would see. A corpse's countenance, a death head. Ruined flesh and no nose, hair that would never grow again on the front of his head except in random tufts.

In her eyes he could see all that. Although he had done his utmost to conceal it the best he could, with his massive top hat and full faced opera mask and his shoulder length black hair, he had tried to give the impression that he was a normal man. He did not want to scare her, but she had wounded his very soul.. And he could not stop as he shouted at her while he forced her hands to rest upon his face.

"Can you feel that, Christine?! That is the face of your Angel! The face of Death! It is MY face, Christine! My hell! How does that make you feel?! Aren't you repulsed by me!? Aren't you horrified!? Do you wish you would die just to escape the agony of beholding me?! Tell me, tell me, TELL ME!"

As he roared at her, she was silent. More like a statue then a living woman, but when she did finally speak, her words surprised him.

"Erik..Your eyes.. Your eyes are scaring me.."

"What are you talking about?! Why are you talking about my eyes!? It is my face! My face! MY FACE!" He all but screamed at her in reply.

She began to sway and her eyes fluttered shut as she begged weakly. "Please..please don't look at me so.." before she swooned.

...

He was still in shock as he carefully carried her back to the guest room. He had not expected her to faint because of his eyes, his face yes, but not his eyes. They were after all, the only things untouched by The Ruin. As he carried her he concluded that she simply fainted because the sheer horror of touching his face and became confused as she lost consciousness.

He was never so scared in that moment, and felt relieved when he caught her before she hit the floor.

He placed her on the bed as though she was a piece of expensive art, he berated himself all the while. His hands shook as he gently tucked her in and brushed some of her sun kissed hair from her eyes. He gazed at her and resisted the urge to clasp her perfect hand in his, and watch over her until she awoke. Instead he turned and walked out the room and left her to her slumber.

...

He was lost in 'Don Juan Triumphant', his fingers glided across the pipe organs keys.

'How could a day go so terribly wrong?' He allowed himself the luxury of wondering about it for a few seconds before a voice within his mind childed him.

'Poor Erik, you know why. You didn't mean to shout at her. But you did, poor pitiful Erik. Your Angel doesn't-'

His thoughts faded away when he began to sob, his voice was full of anguish as he cried out.

"Why does everyone force me into a mask...? Why must my life only ever be full of suffering and loss?"

He placed his hand upon his face, and touched the damaged flesh. As he did so he heard a noise behind him and instinctively turned around to look at the source of the sound..

..Christine looked back at him.

(Chapter end)