Disclaimer:
Howdy, all. This one's all mine... except the characters, which... kinda
aren't. Darn copyright laws. OH! If anyone knows how to get the underlines
and the italics to work when transferring Microsoft word docs to the format
here, HELP ME! I suck at this computer stuff.
The Fate of the Heart
"Why does the heart resist what it knows is fate?" Erik whispered, as she ran out of his layer, out of his heart, out of his life - forever...
*erik*
He sat on the bench, looking at the keys. He had not played since she had left, and three weeks seemed like an eternity. But his heart did not seem to connect with the music. His eyes burned for her angelic smile. His nose yearned for the smell of her hair. His entire being cried out for her.
He cried out for her with such pain that he did not realize that she could hear him...
*christine*
"Christine!! Christine!! Where are you, my angel? I need you here with me! I need you... oh, Christine!" He moaned. She watched him in a mix of horror and wonder as he started to cry. From behind the pillar, he could not see her. She had learned long ago the tricks to avoid his ever-watchful gaze.
She could see his pain, sense it from across the room. And to know that it was all her fault... her heart ached from the guilt she carried. She almost started to cry with him, almost gave away her place of darkness, thinking of the sorrow they both felt for their lost love. 'I do love him. And now, look at what I've done! I'm such a monster, such a horrible being... I have to do something. I can't let him suffer any longer. I need...' He had stopped crying. She froze, not daring to breathe for fear of his all- seeing gaze. He stood, and she could sense his eyes on her. And then, all of a sudden, he wasn't there...
*erik*
He heard a soft sound from behind the left pillar. Instantly, he stopped sobbing, and froze. What was behind the pillar? Another assassin, sent by the imbeciles up in the Opera House? Most likely. Who else would come down here? Who else would know the way? Those moronic... it was his Opera House, not theirs. The nerve they had...
He felt his anger rising as he stood and looked straight at whatever was behind that post. Then, he flicked his cloak around him, and went through the trap door. A simple trick, yet he knew that he had outmatched his assassin already. It was almost too easy. He almost felt pleasure... but he knew he wasn't that blessed. His heart still ached for her.
As he mused, he went up the staircase that would bring him right behind the left pillar, and right behind his assigned killer. But as he silently reached the top of the stairs, he looked up...
And no one was there.
Annoyed, he came out and looked around. Surely, no one knew about that staircase. Especially not a half-wit like the one they probably sent. Yes, he was sure no one knew about these stairs. No one except...
He felt a cold hand on his shoulder.
"What's this? The Phantom of the Opera, caught off his guard?"
To be Continued... sorry to everyone from LOTR for kinda... borrowing (yeah that's the word!) a line. I love you, Arwen!!! And you too, Aragorn! *swoon!*
The Fate of the Heart
"Why does the heart resist what it knows is fate?" Erik whispered, as she ran out of his layer, out of his heart, out of his life - forever...
*erik*
He sat on the bench, looking at the keys. He had not played since she had left, and three weeks seemed like an eternity. But his heart did not seem to connect with the music. His eyes burned for her angelic smile. His nose yearned for the smell of her hair. His entire being cried out for her.
He cried out for her with such pain that he did not realize that she could hear him...
*christine*
"Christine!! Christine!! Where are you, my angel? I need you here with me! I need you... oh, Christine!" He moaned. She watched him in a mix of horror and wonder as he started to cry. From behind the pillar, he could not see her. She had learned long ago the tricks to avoid his ever-watchful gaze.
She could see his pain, sense it from across the room. And to know that it was all her fault... her heart ached from the guilt she carried. She almost started to cry with him, almost gave away her place of darkness, thinking of the sorrow they both felt for their lost love. 'I do love him. And now, look at what I've done! I'm such a monster, such a horrible being... I have to do something. I can't let him suffer any longer. I need...' He had stopped crying. She froze, not daring to breathe for fear of his all- seeing gaze. He stood, and she could sense his eyes on her. And then, all of a sudden, he wasn't there...
*erik*
He heard a soft sound from behind the left pillar. Instantly, he stopped sobbing, and froze. What was behind the pillar? Another assassin, sent by the imbeciles up in the Opera House? Most likely. Who else would come down here? Who else would know the way? Those moronic... it was his Opera House, not theirs. The nerve they had...
He felt his anger rising as he stood and looked straight at whatever was behind that post. Then, he flicked his cloak around him, and went through the trap door. A simple trick, yet he knew that he had outmatched his assassin already. It was almost too easy. He almost felt pleasure... but he knew he wasn't that blessed. His heart still ached for her.
As he mused, he went up the staircase that would bring him right behind the left pillar, and right behind his assigned killer. But as he silently reached the top of the stairs, he looked up...
And no one was there.
Annoyed, he came out and looked around. Surely, no one knew about that staircase. Especially not a half-wit like the one they probably sent. Yes, he was sure no one knew about these stairs. No one except...
He felt a cold hand on his shoulder.
"What's this? The Phantom of the Opera, caught off his guard?"
To be Continued... sorry to everyone from LOTR for kinda... borrowing (yeah that's the word!) a line. I love you, Arwen!!! And you too, Aragorn! *swoon!*