~~*~~From the desk of V.M. Thank you for reviewing for the first part of this story. I must say that I was quite pleased about the responses and who wanted to be in the story. I must ask a favor though, When you review and you mention that you want to be in the story, I must get your real name. For this phic of this nature I must ask this of you my friends. I can use the phans that gave me their names the first time in this chapter. I need people and names. There is something I need to say about this story, Christine and Raoul are not in this, so it cannot be E/C you can call it another woman phic, which i guess it is... Please don't stop reading it though, :) I promise it will be worth the time.~~*~~
Chapter 2: Erik
When I was living in Persia, I saw and heard things that I never thought that I would see again.
I was wrong. And I don't like admitting to that.
As I walked down the road, my head turned from left to right and then back again tring to process the images. There were women, dispite the chill in the air, were dressed with less clothing than the harlots in the Shah's harem. There were men who had tattoos, and I have seen tattoos, but not quite the designs and colors as these gentlemen. I also heard words... phrases I never even imagined. "Screw you buddy... go to hell you bastard... gete off the road you jackass... the more I heard, saw, experienced, the bigger the yearning to be in my lair and away from prying eyes and phrases I don't care to hear. That thought stopped me short, forcing people around me, and giving me more examples of the strange phrases.
I thrusted a hand through my black hair. My Opera House. Was it still here? I frowned my eyebrows coming together behind my silver mask. Where was I anyway? I sighed before I can do anything I must find out where and when I was and then find out if my Opera was still standing. With somewhat of a plan in my head I made my way down the road and my gaze fell on a gentlemen who was playing a string instruament that looked a viiolin, but this was bigger and sat apon his knee. I approached, my hand near the punjab lasso just incase he was dangerous.
"Sir," I said using English. "Could you perhaps tell me what the date is, where city this is and what time it is?"
The man looked me up and down he snarled a mocking grin. "Yo' yung french kids' cant handle the city eh?" He laughed, a hard and wheezing sound. "Lookie, here this is the great New York City and the date is August 20 2002." The man fell back into laughter. "So are you gona pay me or wat?"
"Pardon?"
"Pay me." The man pulled a knife out of his greasy pocket. Before he could try to do some harm I pulled my lasso out of my pocket and snapped it around his hand. I gave it a little tug and the knife fell silently to the ground, I pulled a little more and effieciently broke his wrist. I pulled my lasso back and tucked it into the pocket. I stepped back from the man. "I did not want to hurt but, but sir, you gave me no choice. Thank you for the information." I tipped my hat towards my mask and continued down the street, oblivious to the stares that I was getting. I took a deep breath and instantly started to cough. The air here was worse than the damp air in the cellars. I straightened up and looked at the building arcross from me.
The color drained from my face. My hands started to shake. I made my way across the path to the building, not hearing the words that were coming from the people around me. I reached the building and looked at the words on the advertisment.
"The Phantom of the Opera." and underneath that was a mask and a rose. I stood there looking at those damning words for I don't know how long. What snapped me out my trance was the screaming of young girls that reminded me of the little ballet girls.
"Look, at him." "Oh, my god!! Look at how he's dressed!! "Do you think that's the PHANTOM?" "That has to be the actor Jade was not talking about. "
I turned and saw four young girls looking at me almost worshippingly. They aproached me cautiously, acting if I was an angel from heavne, instead of the demon from hell that I was. They would probably know if my home was still standing. "Would any of you know if the Paris Opera House still stands?" The girls just gaped at me.
"Your voice..." One of them awed. The other three nodded their heads. The one who spoke looked at her friends, I backed away a step one of the three looked as if she was going to pounce on me. "We should intraduce ourselves... I'm Raven." The first girl smiled at me. "And the girls are, Kristen we call her "Kiki", Bina, and the one who looks like she's going to jump on you is Cassie. We are phans." The girls nodded.
"Fans..." I repeated.
"PHANS" Raven corrected me. "We are Phantom of the Opera phans, we love the show, and we love Erik." All four of the girls heaved a sigh.
I arched an eyebrow. Well I arched both of them actaully in a disbelieving stare. But they couldn't see it those because of the mask. "Does the Paris Opera still stand?" I let out a surprised gasp when the girl named Cassie ran up behind me and propelled herself onto my back. I looked helplessly at the girls, while trying to get Cassie off my back. Cassie just held on tight.
"Cassie, will glomp anything in a phantom outfit." Kristen looked me up and down, I must say you are one of the best looking phantoms I have seen. And yes, the Paris Opera is still as glorious as it was our Erik hurled the chandilier down into the audience."
I groaned in relief it was still there I can still go home.
"Sir, what is your name?" Bina, the only one who hasn't done anything or said anything spoke up.
"Erik."
"Your name is Erik?" Cassie screeched finally letting go of my back and neck.
"Yes."
"Last name?"
"No family name."
"Your name is Erik and you have no lastname. Girls, I think we need to take our new friend to Jade."
"Who's Jade?"
Kiki, Bina, Cassie, and Raven looked at me with the same sly glance. "You'll find out soon enough."
Chapter 2: Erik
When I was living in Persia, I saw and heard things that I never thought that I would see again.
I was wrong. And I don't like admitting to that.
As I walked down the road, my head turned from left to right and then back again tring to process the images. There were women, dispite the chill in the air, were dressed with less clothing than the harlots in the Shah's harem. There were men who had tattoos, and I have seen tattoos, but not quite the designs and colors as these gentlemen. I also heard words... phrases I never even imagined. "Screw you buddy... go to hell you bastard... gete off the road you jackass... the more I heard, saw, experienced, the bigger the yearning to be in my lair and away from prying eyes and phrases I don't care to hear. That thought stopped me short, forcing people around me, and giving me more examples of the strange phrases.
I thrusted a hand through my black hair. My Opera House. Was it still here? I frowned my eyebrows coming together behind my silver mask. Where was I anyway? I sighed before I can do anything I must find out where and when I was and then find out if my Opera was still standing. With somewhat of a plan in my head I made my way down the road and my gaze fell on a gentlemen who was playing a string instruament that looked a viiolin, but this was bigger and sat apon his knee. I approached, my hand near the punjab lasso just incase he was dangerous.
"Sir," I said using English. "Could you perhaps tell me what the date is, where city this is and what time it is?"
The man looked me up and down he snarled a mocking grin. "Yo' yung french kids' cant handle the city eh?" He laughed, a hard and wheezing sound. "Lookie, here this is the great New York City and the date is August 20 2002." The man fell back into laughter. "So are you gona pay me or wat?"
"Pardon?"
"Pay me." The man pulled a knife out of his greasy pocket. Before he could try to do some harm I pulled my lasso out of my pocket and snapped it around his hand. I gave it a little tug and the knife fell silently to the ground, I pulled a little more and effieciently broke his wrist. I pulled my lasso back and tucked it into the pocket. I stepped back from the man. "I did not want to hurt but, but sir, you gave me no choice. Thank you for the information." I tipped my hat towards my mask and continued down the street, oblivious to the stares that I was getting. I took a deep breath and instantly started to cough. The air here was worse than the damp air in the cellars. I straightened up and looked at the building arcross from me.
The color drained from my face. My hands started to shake. I made my way across the path to the building, not hearing the words that were coming from the people around me. I reached the building and looked at the words on the advertisment.
"The Phantom of the Opera." and underneath that was a mask and a rose. I stood there looking at those damning words for I don't know how long. What snapped me out my trance was the screaming of young girls that reminded me of the little ballet girls.
"Look, at him." "Oh, my god!! Look at how he's dressed!! "Do you think that's the PHANTOM?" "That has to be the actor Jade was not talking about. "
I turned and saw four young girls looking at me almost worshippingly. They aproached me cautiously, acting if I was an angel from heavne, instead of the demon from hell that I was. They would probably know if my home was still standing. "Would any of you know if the Paris Opera House still stands?" The girls just gaped at me.
"Your voice..." One of them awed. The other three nodded their heads. The one who spoke looked at her friends, I backed away a step one of the three looked as if she was going to pounce on me. "We should intraduce ourselves... I'm Raven." The first girl smiled at me. "And the girls are, Kristen we call her "Kiki", Bina, and the one who looks like she's going to jump on you is Cassie. We are phans." The girls nodded.
"Fans..." I repeated.
"PHANS" Raven corrected me. "We are Phantom of the Opera phans, we love the show, and we love Erik." All four of the girls heaved a sigh.
I arched an eyebrow. Well I arched both of them actaully in a disbelieving stare. But they couldn't see it those because of the mask. "Does the Paris Opera still stand?" I let out a surprised gasp when the girl named Cassie ran up behind me and propelled herself onto my back. I looked helplessly at the girls, while trying to get Cassie off my back. Cassie just held on tight.
"Cassie, will glomp anything in a phantom outfit." Kristen looked me up and down, I must say you are one of the best looking phantoms I have seen. And yes, the Paris Opera is still as glorious as it was our Erik hurled the chandilier down into the audience."
I groaned in relief it was still there I can still go home.
"Sir, what is your name?" Bina, the only one who hasn't done anything or said anything spoke up.
"Erik."
"Your name is Erik?" Cassie screeched finally letting go of my back and neck.
"Yes."
"Last name?"
"No family name."
"Your name is Erik and you have no lastname. Girls, I think we need to take our new friend to Jade."
"Who's Jade?"
Kiki, Bina, Cassie, and Raven looked at me with the same sly glance. "You'll find out soon enough."