Disclaimer: I do not own Phantom of the Opera. Never have. Never will. (Sighs sadly).

A/N: This idea just was a complete random thought that popped up while I was listening to POTO and studying for exams! I hope you enjoy. I'm going for originality here! -

Chapter One



Erik's POV

I donned my fedora and cloak, taking a deep breath. The scent of the fading, bland aroma of the Persian tea I had fixed earlier made its way to my nose. Leaving the Opera by means of the Rue Scribe, my footsteps were the only sounds in the silent darkness that wrapped itself coldly around me. It had been a year. That year had deprived me of my angel, my cherub, my love... My Christine.

"Oh, Christine." A soft moan escaped my misshapen lips, the icy wind sharply biting at my mask.

However, every night I had ventured to her diminutive flat, only being able to see her from a fair distance. Most nights, she sat outside, talking. Sometimes she spoke to her father... and sometime she spoke to me. Once, she had sorrowfully cried for her Angel of Music... This broke my heart, but I knew I could not answer.

Pulling my fedora lower over my face, I sauntered quietly, my eyes fixed on the ground. I swallowed, my eyes darting around, assuring myself I was alone. After a few moments, I lifted my head to catch the sight of the glorious stars glowing in the black sky. The streets around me were completely barren; perhaps, this was because it was midnight. My lips curled into a small smile as I continued my stroll, passing an eerie alley. However, something callously hit my head, causing my eyes to roll backwards and my body to limply fall to the ground.

When I awoke, my head was violently throbbing and I did not wish to move; but I knew I had to, for fear someone would find me. Blinking rapidly, I squinted. The luminous sun glared back at me, its rays bringing me warmth, yet also trying to blind me in the process. Where was I? Oh, yes. The alley. What happened? I attempted to sit up, but was unsuccessful. Something was wrong with me. Looking down, I took in a shaky breath as I stared in horror. Four legs? A TAIL? Quickly standing on my... four legs, I unsteadily ambled a few steps, my head dashing in every direction. Approaching a café, I weakly gaped at myself in the glass. I was a feline! A CAT! My furry, raven black body seemed incredibly smooth and glossy. My hazel eyes met my appalled gaze as my tail switched back and forth. Why in the Hell was I a bloody cat?! Then, I noticed the most ironic thing.

My face was entirely white, yet the remains of my body were black. I opened my mouth to scream, but instead a meow fled from it. Scurrying into the bustling streets, a large clock chimed. I had been lying in that alley for quite some time. It was already the afternoon.

"Move it, you little beast!" A rough voice indifferently muttered. My terrified eyes rose to see a rather plump man. His eyes were cold and cruel as his reddish hair slightly peeked out from under his top hat. Swatting his cane at me, I swiftly moved out the way, rushing through various feet and irritated orders.

As I felt a pair of hands compassionately pick me up, my immediate reaction was to use the Punjab... but then I remembered this bizarre incident. Hurriedly turning my head around, my eyes were met with the most blessed sight I had ever seen.

Christine. "Oh, you poor thing." She cooed, her cheeks flushed. Gently rubbing my head, I eased under her touch. "Here you go."

She carefully sat me down when we were a good distance away from the busy streets of Paris; but I did not budge. I did not run away. I did not wish to. Tilting her head, Christine's long golden-blonde curls playfully bounced against her shoulders.

"Go on." She quietly ordered. I only advanced towards her, causing her face to light up with an exceptionally wide smile. Bending down, I permitted her to scratch beneath my chin. I longed to be a human again so I could envelop her in my arms, never letting go... God knows why I was a cat.

"Are you not going to leave?" She questioned happily, scooping me up tenderly in her arms. "Well, I suppose you could come home with me..."

Her melodic voice trailed off as she made her way back to her flat. I was in utter bliss. Christine's azure eyes sparkled with such innocence and such child-like amusement that I know I would have chuckled had I been... myself. Entering her home, she lightly set me on the floor. She disappeared for a moment, only to return with a bowl of milk.

Grimacing, I had never had a particular liking for milk, but I was exceedingly thirsty. Taking a few gulps, I sat quietly in place. Christine approached me from behind, picking me up once more. Sitting on the settee, she stroked me delicately, studying my face.

"Your face..." She softly murmured. "It reminds me so much of him..." Appearing to shrug off those haunting thoughts, she wiped away the single tear that had rolled down her cheek. "What shall I call you?" She asked me contentedly, knowing I would not answer. "Hmm, what about..." Her eyes appeared to glaze over for a moment while she spoke the word inaudibly as if it were a prayer. "...Angel?" Staring down at me, her cloudy eyes seemed to clear just as a sky would clear after a thunderstorm. "Yes, Angel will do." Lifting my chin with her slender finger, she locked her eyes with mine. "Hazel eyes... I thought cats only had yellow eyes... I suppose you're a special cat then." She laughed lightly.

Lighting a small fire, she simply held me for a very long time. The atmosphere was soundless, except for her tranquil humming. I enjoyed this immensely. Meanwhile, the day had vanished, leaving the alluring night. Yawning, she stood, carrying me to her room.

"It's time to go to bed, Angel." Christine sighed, a weary smile painted on her face.

Placing me on her bed, she opened her closet, pulling out an ashen nightgown. Untying her bodice, she removed off her cerulean dress. As tempting as it was, I tore my eyes away from her, occupying my sight with other things. When I felt the bed rustle, I turned to see her slipping under the cool sheets. Affectionately grasping me, she sat me on the opposite pillow, petting me once more. As her eyes gradually shut, I sighed. Thousands of thoughts rushed through my head. Why was I cat? Damn it! This seemed utterly ridiculous and absurd. But my thoughts came to an abrupt halt. I hadn't been able to watch my angel sleep in what seemed to be an eternity.

A/N: What do y'all think? I know. I know. Odd idea. But it just came to me, and I had to write it. If you just didn't like the concept, then please don't randomly flame me. I mean, I accept criticism, but I don't particularly like cruel, insulting flames. If you don't like this, I'm sorry. But I beg all of you to R&R!