Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or rights to the Phantom of the Opera, but I do own the bounty hunter! However Andrew Lloyd Webber owns the others.
A/N: This is my first story! Hope you like it! The first chapter is written through Erik's POV. Let me know if you wish me to continue.
Chapter 1
"I only assume this means I've become more infamous than famous," I mocked in amusement. An invitation for my demise was placed on a door located in a dark alley. Even though the abandoned shops and shattered windows left an ominous presence, I embrace them for their dark and ghostly nature. The only object which ruined my admiration was the vague drawing of the masked, ghostly pariah which greatly pained my eyes. For even looking upon the paper, filled me with disgust and angst. Under my "flattering" picture was written the words which overall proved to me that people were more naïve than fearful. It read:
"This monstrosity is murderous and should be found immediately. The person or persons who track down this madman, dead or alive, will receive a generous reward."
Fools! I didn't bring my grief to this hopeless people on the streets. It was only in the Opera House where my turmoil resided. All I wanted was happiness; not this curse of negative popularity. As I wandered in the shadows, I noticed more of my pictures posted throughout the city. Even though this was very upsetting, nothing could compare to the pain which I already felt.
It had been three hours wince love's betrayal occurred. Rejection was always a poison which ran though my veins; and through its toxic effects, I never handled it with ease. Even the woman who bore me shunned me with disregard. When I met Christine, I hoped that society would not fill her mind with misconceptions of outer beauty as it did my mother long before my birth.
Unfortunately, she was no different. Why did she accept his love over mine? Shallow and attractive wealth was the only thing that his soul possessed. I showed her everything, even the depths of my soul. I breathed life into her fragile yet delicate lungs, but suffocation was all she granted me in return. She was my mother in every aspect. I was just too blind to see her faults. Her beauty deflected my visions of sorrow and her voice flowed beautifully with clarity.
I once believed that she was a muse, the one who would flood my soul with inspiration, instead of the loneliness which I had dwelled upon for so long. However, she was only the imitation of a siren, a thriving temptress who cast off the affections of men while leading them to a perishing world.
I had escaped from the wrath of those who sought for my misfortune. Only the harsh hours of time could decide my fate. Death had always been a tedious friend which I had no desire to embrace, until now. There is no other factor which could possibly enhance my misery, none whatsoever. What more could I possibly be exposed to?
For hours upon hours, I meandered endlessly outside the city in a trancelike state. Half of my mind was filled with disbelief the other with expected foolishness. I strayed away from the wagons and other travelers for fear of my entrapment. My mask was left in the Opera House; but my identity would have still been discovered with or without it.
As the onyx-coated sky turned to dark shades of purple and blue, I stumbled across the cemetery. The rays were beginning to rise from the ground as the dim lights reflected off the tombs. A calm breeze began to stir as the trees awoke in an illuming moment.
"Look Christine, the trees dance in tribute to your father here. He must enchant them, even when dead….as he has done you for so long." My sanity had taken quite a toll. I was beginning to make no sense of myself. I knelt under on of the trees and began to cry soft as I slowly began to drift. Only the nightmares could keep me company, for even darkness had forsaken me.
A/N: I know the plot hasn't unfolded yet. Don't worry! It will come soon.