Madam Giry

I had been down to the cellars more than once before, however never on a funeral mission before. AS I descended farther and farther into the cellars every sign of life seemed to disappear. I shivered as a rat scampered away, headed for warmer ground. Dam it was frigid down here. I remembered the first time I ever met Erik. .

I was seeing to some details before a performance, early in the morning. It was so early that the still dark night air still crept in the windows. It was impossible to see without a lantern. As I was pouring over the notes the manager had left me I felt as if someone was watching me. I quickly glanced around but saw no one. Now I am not a woman who fears bumps in the night, I have spent many nights and early mornings in that opera house, and I know nearly every nook and cranny about it. But in about five minutes I knew someone was there on the stage with me. I heard a stifled sneeze, and then a quick cough. I turned and asked loudly" who is there, I don't have time for this nonsense!" Never could I have imagined the sight that I was about to see. To me it looked as if the wall shimmered a moment, and then a man stepped out. This of course was no ordinary man, though he was tall and very very thin, (ordinarily I would say frail, but he was most certainly not) he was imposing. He wore all black evening clothes, and a long sweeping opera cape. On his head he had a wide brimmed hat. Most startling of all, was the whit half mask he wore. I stood there for just a moment; it was just long enough for my natural sense of defense kicked in. I stepped back, and asked "and who are you?" The man took a menacing step forward, which I interrupted as malice. As I said before I have spent many dark nights alone in questionable places, so I can tell malice when I see it. I didn't wait a second longer; I took my cane and hit him square in the head. He uttered only a quick shout, and fell to the floor in a crumpled heap. Instead if running away and calling a police officer, like a normal sensible lady would do, I went over to the crumpled man, and took a look at him. I always have been a curious lady, and tonight was no exception. As I was staring at him, I got a glimpse of his torn visage. His mask had slipped and I could clearly see his waxy yellowed skin, and ragged lips. It did not disturb me, for as I said before, not much does, in the way of looks anyway. The man slowly blinked his eyes, and started to sit up. I began to worry a little that he might take revenge, but judging from the lump on his forehead I could see he wouldn't be in any form to do much harm to anyone for at least a few hours. "Madame Giry, I am glad to make your acquaintance." The figure muttered. Something about the way this man muttered his hellos in such a embarrassed and defeated manner made me laugh. I am not one who laughs very often, but I admit a small giggle escaped from my mouth. The man jumped up as if in a rage, however jumping up so quickly after a blow to the head, made him dizzy and sick, and he quickly slumped down again, looking pale. I remember that morning so clearly, it was as if it was yesterday. I said to him "Who are you, and why do you run around trying to scare sensible ladies like myself?" He simply replied "I am Erik, I have found solace in the opera cellars, and I would prefer it to stay that way. I did not mean to startle you, I was simply on my way out to get some dinner." I was rather taken back by this, the way he spoke and the manner in which he presented himself told me many things about him. I know new he was the saddest man I have ever known, I also now know that he is a genius in all aspects, and I do remind everyone, there is a fine line between brilliance and insanity. Since that early morning, Erik and I have grown to be well acquainted with each other, I know how he came to be, his heartache, and his genius. I have maintained his opera box for the past seven years, and tried to be as much of a friend to him as I could.

So this is why I had to go down to the cellars to see if Erik was alive, and if not, give him a burial save his soul might finally find peace. On reaching the last cellar where people normally are found, I took a deep breath, it had been a few years since I had been down to his home. He had been sick, and I was brining him his meals and opera programs regularly for a few weeks. I had never actually been in the house itself, just at the gate where he met me. Even then, pneumonia and fever ridden, he was a powerful and imposing figure. I was startled out of my reverie by water creeping into my boots. I looked across the cold black lake, reminded of the river Styx. The boat happily was docked on the shore, a good thing too. I had carted down a number of items with me. Climbing into the boat I truly felt like I was about to journey into the underworld. I struggled with poling the boat across the murky water, the craft was large an difficult to maneuver. Somehow, god knows how, I made it to the other side with out incident. I walked carefully through the piles of broken glass, splintered wood, and torn fabric. As I turned the corner, heading towards the house, I was merely overcome with nausea. There had to be about fifteen bodies lying about, their arms and legs flailing in different odd directions. Once I gained my composure, I let my eyes seek out these so called gentleman. I felt very detached. There was Barton, a scene shifter. Monsieur Reno, an opera patron, his neck obviously broken. I felt some pity for these individuals, but had no inclination to deal with their remains. Erik deserved to be sent to the afterlife in a proper manner. He had waited for years for this relief; at last maybe he would find some peace and comfort. Time passed and I began to despair of ever finding Erik's remains. I walked over a small cat walk, which led to the now ruined house. My candle flickered, almost as if it was going to go out. At this same moment, I saw something shine in the darkness. I glanced over and saw part of Erik's mask. Just the very corner piece. My eyebrows rose in surprise and anticipation, I felt he was near by. Erik did have a presence about him, I was always aware when he was around. In any case, I was anxious to find what I was looking for. I scanned the area one last time before moving on. My eyes picked up an outline, a very faint outline of a shadow form my candle. A hand lying there in the dark. I ran over to the hand which indeed was attached to an arm. Once I had the cad light fully the body, I knew that without a doubt it was Erik. I knelt down and crossed myself, saying a quick prayer. It was a sorry sight; his once white shirt was dark with blood and dirt. His pant legs were torn, and his right leg had a gaping wound in it. At this point I sat back on my heels and sighed. I had no idea where I was going to bury this man. I closed my eyes, and rubbed them in fatigue and frustration. The moment I touched my gloved hands to my forehead I ripped them away in disgust. There was a warm sticky substance covering them. It was blood. I quickly scanned my body for sign of an unknown injury. There was no wound on my body; however I noticed a growing puddle of blood growing underneath my feet. "Erik!" I cried, suddenly realizing where the blood was coming from. Dead people didn't bleed! In haste I turned him over, he wasn't heavy, he was literally skin and bones. "Erik! Can you hear me?" I asked shrilly. Mo response. I began hastily inspecting him to see what kind of injuries he had incurred during his ordeal. My hand glanced off his forehead and was appalled at how cold he was! I was amazed he was still alive. It was imperative to get him out of there. There was no way I was going to be able to carry him out myself, it was just impossible. However I couldn't chance leaving him here while I went to go get help. Help would be a long time coming, and in my mind I felt Erik had at most a two to three more hours left if he was in this cold. I sat and thought for a moment, but finally I signed, realizing I had no other choice. I began ripping my skirt into long sheets, fashioning a type of sled. As much as it would pain me and even more so him, there was no way else to get him out of there, I would have to drag him.