Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Phantom of the Opera. Erik, Christine, Raoul, and all other characters that appear in the book belong to Leroux Gaston. Songs and other characters that appear in the ALW adaptation and not in the book belong to ALW.

Notes: This fic was inspired by the movie, the ALW play, and the very little I have read so far of the book. The characters are aged around what the movie screenplay had set them in.

Chapter 1 – To Remember

You have come here for one purpose and one alone!
Since the moment I first heard you sing…
I have needed you with me to serve me to sing…
For my music…my music…

Erik moved recklessly through the dark tunnels below the Opera Populaire, away from the sounds of the mob destroying his home, away from the footsteps that clambered the dark halls of his hell, away from the world that sought to destroy him once again.

It was just like before in his younger days, though now the aguish of persecution was worse as he was not only losing his dark home, he had just lost the woman he loved in an act of uncharacteristic compassion and understanding.

What reason has he now to continue living in this nightmare of a life? The one light that he had hoped to lead him from the solitude of his dark life has left him with only a passionate kiss to remember and torment him for the rest of his life—a life he now expected to end soon.

But what a kiss it was! The feel of her lips against his, caressing, loving, and accepting. Even if it was meant as a bribe for her lover's life, it was the sweetest matter he had ever tasted. It was so heavenly that tears could not help but escape from his eyes from that act of…of…love? Perhaps or perhaps not, he wondered. Should it matter?

Erik stumbled slightly in his footsteps as he kept on his way through the dark. Any other day, he could travel this way in the dark with no hint of difficulty, but his disorientation caused by the events in his home with Christine and Raoul made him feel amiss and lost in his own domain. He wasn't certain anymore of where his direction headed. He paused briefly and absorbed the darkness of the tunnels before him. It was and always will be his only haven from the world that cannot accept his face unmasked.

But now, without the mask, who or what was he? He can no longer be the Opera Ghost. He was back to being just Erik once again.

Despite the exquisite gift granted to him by his beloved Christine, he knew that he had to let it go. His sweetest memory on this unforgiving earth had to be forgotten so he can move on. If he maintained it, he feared he might not be able to stop himself from coming for her once again. Erik didn't want that. He wanted to give her peace with her life with Raoul in return for the gift given.

"In here! I hear something! Men, over here!" a faint voice far behind Erik bellowed.

Erik gritted his teeth and felt his way around the dark. He hoped he would reach his horse before any confrontations come to pass. He had killed enough.

"Find that monstrous beast!"

An animal he was apparently. An abhorrent creature, a ghost that murders for glee, a blasphemous being that shouldn't exist. Why, Erik wondered again, was he cursed with this unfortunate fate. Was there some abhorrent sin that his mother committed that warranted such punishment? And if so, why was he the one to befall the cursed fate?

"Hurry! Don't let him get away!" someone shouted. "This way, this way!"

"Track down that monster! Track down the beast who killed innocent Bucquet and Piangi!"

Erik laughed dryly. 'Innocent?' What a lucky man Joseph was, Erik thought. Nevermind that he was an ugly-looking stagehand who flirted shamelessly with the women of the dormitories. Nevermind that he disrespected these women by spying on them as they dressed. Nevermind that he was an insulting cad who dared to make fun of things he did not understand. Nevermind all his carelessness in the operation of the opera house.

Unlike Erik, Joseph Bucquet had a 'complete' human face.

And Piangi…well…Erik was at a loss for words as he thought about Carlotta's lover. He hadn't really intended on killing him, but his frustrations won out.

Oh the burden of the face he carried was heavy indeed! Society's attitude had led him to believe that he was only half of what everyone else was. If they saw him from his left side, as many did upon first impression, they would mistake him for a handsome gentleman of great upbringing, upstart and fine, like a nobleman. But upon closer inspection, his humanity and beauty apparently stopped there. The mask that covered the right side of his face had a horrendous secret. It hid a monster beneath, something that God could not have created, a ghastly face.

From such abhorrence came his hatred toward society. Their unacceptance of his presence forced him to live in the shadows and finally take refuge in the lower pits of the Opera Populaire. There he lived for many years, rarely to be kissed by the sun, building his own kingdom of darkness where nothing and no one could judge him, never striving for anything beautiful except maybe his music. That is until he heard a young girl sing sadly inside the Opera Populaire's makeshift chapel.

Her innocent voice alighted hope in his being. It stirred a yearning for something exquisite and heavenly when he had long ago abandoned faith in God. He was troubled, however, at the sadness that was etched in her voice. In the night, he spied her in her time of solemnity, praying to God and to her father. She asked for an Angel of Music.

At her humble plea, Erik found himself immensely intrigued. Of all the things she could ask for in the unmerciful world, she had asked for an Angel of Music? Erik was even more interested now as he felt an odd inspiration stir inside of him. Such innocence and beauty surely would not protest if an Angel of Music did come, would she? Also, he saw in her a companion of sorts. They both seemed so lonely in the unforigiving world of man. An orphan she was, like he to some extent. Yet he didn't doubt for a moment that she was much more loved compared to him.

One night, he decided to make his presence known to her in the form of music. His violin was put to good use as he played for her soft hymns of comfort. He was worried for a moment that he might frighten her but he was surprised to find out that it wasn't the case. Wonder and surprise filled her eyes but no fear. So he played until it was time for her to leave for bed. Soon, he realized, she came more and more frequently to the chapel, not just to pray, but to listen for him and his music as well.

From thereon, he became the Angel of Music she sought. He not only played for her but soon sang to her wondrous gentle melodies. It did not take long for a teacher-student relationship to form between them. He was glad to make use of his talents to help her for she was the only who seemed to be accepting of his presence. She had requested numerous times to see him but he always refused as he was too afraid of the fear that the mask might bring to a seven-year-old girl. Their clandestine relationship existed for many years and only one other person was aware of Erik and Christine's secret: Madame Giry.

Erik found joy and solace in teaching the young Christine Daae who soon grew to be a beautiful young woman of age. Upon her turning eighteen, Erik discovered himself even more so captivated by the young woman shoe voice inspired him to dream of heaven. Without realizing it, he had fallen in love with her. The revelation shocked him to the depths of his soul. How can someone such as he know how to love when he had barely felt any love extended to him in his thirty-three years of life? And yet he knew his feelings to be true and genuine for his heart stirred whenever he was near her presence. However, because of her youth and innocence, Erik had no thought to pursue his feelings, as he knew it would surely terrify her. After all, how could she find it in her heart to love someone whose humanity was only half? He made himself content with having her as his nightly companion in the darkness, a partner in music, if never in love.

He was content with arrangement until the time came when he saw her in her gory in the night of her stage debut that he helped orchestrate. He was aggravated that he did not have the opportunity to see her from his usually reserved Box Five as the new managers saw it fitting to provide it for the Viscount, of all people, for the evening. He abandoned the unsettling matter though as he finally resolved to fulfill Christine's wish to see him.

Looking back, Erik thought that that was when it begun, the destruction of his happiness. Oh it was a wonderful moment when she came down willingly with him to his underground haven, melded her voice with his in song. But it was quite short lived as the struggle for her affections soon ensued with the return of her childhood love. The struggle had resulted in him becoming what society had always labeled him to be: a monster. In his madness, he killed two people, driven Christine to the arms of his rival, and forced her to chose between death in living with him or despair in the demise of her so-called lover.

Don Juan Triumphant! indeed. Within a short span of time, Erik lost what he had treasured the most in the last eleven years of his life.

Erik despaired as he recalled the misdeeds he committed in blind jealousy. Oh how he wished he could turn back the hands of time to repair the damage he had done. His only salvation came with the kiss she bestowed upon him.

Faint sounds of gunfire far behind him restored Erik to his current situation in the tunnels. He didn't clearly understand why he sought to escape since he knew of nowhere to escape to. He no longer had an abode to call home. The Opera Populaire was up in flames no thanks to him. There was no one else looking to shelter him. Madame Giry might have saved him once. He sincerely doubted she would be inclined to perform the same act of kinds again. Nor did he expect her to.

"Monster! Where are you?"

Erik flinched slightly as the sounds of the mob behind him grew louder and louder. Another gunshot, another crash, another insult, and another call for his demise. It seemed that the mob would not rest until they had him beaten down and in chains. Maybe even dead.

He knew that his exit was not far. His black steed waited for him on the other side, destination unknown. Erik grimaced as he pondered where he could go. Was there any place in the world left for him to go?

His thoughts were interrupted as he unexpected felt a blow land on the side of his head. He growled in pain and struggled to cast off the being that had thrown its body on him, wrestling with him.

"I found him! I found him! Here, here!" Erik's attacker yelped to the mob as he continued to beat Erik with something heavy and undeniably of a metallic nature.

Erik's head throbbed in pain as he struggled to free himself. His attacker had somewhat managed to surprise him from the side as he crossed another intersection of tunnels. Erik let a frustrated grunt out as he tried to shake the hold that grasped his neck from behind. He flailed his right arm behind him in hopes of capturing his attackers assaulting arm. Finally, Erik drove himself backwards and smashed his assailant against a tunnel wall. He did this repeatedly until he felt his attacker's grip loosen at which point Erik swung him around and landed an elbow against the man's face. The attacker soon slumped down against the ground unconscious.

The ringing in his head continued as he struggled to regain his balance. The blows were unforgivingly concentrated on the right backside of his head. He laughed cynically and wondered what more damage could such blows cause considering the already misshapen state of that side of his face.

The sounds of running footsteps and cries out for him were getting louder and Erik realized that the rest of his pursuers were no more than at least fifty feet away.

"Damn you all! Why will you not leave me in peace!?!" he said in frustration.

He struggled up as the pain got worse and fought off the urge to pass out.. He knew he was bleeding because of the uncomfortable warm substance that trickled down his neck. Erik grabbed the weapon his assailant possessed and continued to march on towards the exit where his horse awaited its master.

When he was about ten feet away from the door to his escape, he found himself trying to defend against three more mobsters. He managed to overcome all of them but at a price. He was quite bloody all over and suffered a stab wound to his side from a blade he failed to evade. He also suspected that his right shoulder was broken and several of his ribs as well. With all his might, he shifted the hidden door he constructed many years before that led to the outer vicinity of the Opera Populaire. With great difficulty he mounted his horse and ushered his steed away. No sooner than he did this, despite his firm resolve, the darkness that threatened to overcome him had won out as his eyes closed. Erik slumped forward against the head of his horse as it galloped away in the shadows of the coming dawn to some unknown destination.

— x —

Three Days Later…

Christine Daae woke up with a start from her bed. She had just been dreaming…dreaming of Erik. His voice…It had seemed like it was dying into the night, fading into nothingness. Suddenly chilled by the thought, she clutched the blanket to her chest tightly and shivered.

"Erik…" she whispered in the darkness.

A faint groan drew her attention back to her surroundings and Christine just realized that Raoul was at her bedside, asleep as he sat on a chair and his head at her bed. She suspected that he had watched over her again last night.

With a faint sigh, she recalled the tempestuous events of three nights before. The climax of the opera of her life. Erik's finest work. Raoul's fight for her. Erik's offerings and choices. Her very own battles with her hart and soul. Her anguished decision. Erik's despair. Her flight with Raoul.

She bit her lip as she fought the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. They were so different. Gallant Raoul. Passionate Erik. Day and Night. The nobleman and the outcast. The refined son cherished by society and the unfathomable prodigy that society could not accept.

One captured her heart, the other possessed her soul.

Christine forced herself to avoid questioning the choices made and instead focused on the man whose head lay at her side. With care, she gently brushed a golden lock of hair from Raoul's face. "Raoul…"

The young man stirred and awoke slowly, raising his head from the side of her bed. "Christine…I…What time is it?"

Christine squeezed the hand that held hers with gentleness. "It is almost dawn. You need not have stayed by my side last night again, Raoul. I'm not going anywhere."

Raoul smiled. "I know, but you know me. I'm a bit to worrisome for my own good. I was afraid that you…you might disappear from my sight again."

"He won't come for me anymore, Raoul," she quietly responded. She fought off the slight pang of guilt and disappointment that nagged at her.

Raoul brought her hand to his lips. "No more nightmares of darkness. Soon we will be wed and you can forget about the terror he brought upon you. Upon us."

Christine forced a smile. "I…I know."

Raoul leaned forward and gave her a light kiss. "I love you, Christine."

"And I, you," Christine said in return. However, even though the sentiment of her heart was genuine, her soul felt slightly amiss and sad as she remembered another face. She had a feeling that her soul would always be so from hereon. To live in love with Raoul meant having to live without Erik and music of her soul.

— x —

To Be Continued…