Too much to find, so much, so little time.
So many images persist to shade my mind.
Will I ever come around or will I just hit the ground?
Will I still be standing when it all comes around?
(Why can't I) seem to sort it out?
(Why am I) always filled with doubt?

"The Checkered Demon" AFI

III THE VOICE THAT CALLS TO ME

"Move, Jenay!" Adrienne shrieked, grasping her arm and dragging her towards the aisle. She gave one last glance behind her and saw Erik and Christine disappear through a trap door in the floor. She didn't know what was going on but she hoped he would be all right. You better not die, not when I just found you again! She thought desperately, trying to ignore the horrified screams of the patrons. She heard the terrible shrieks of the dying. This had to be Hell.

"Adrienne, what's going on?" Jenay demanded, shoving through the door into the cool outside air. Safety. She dragged Adrienne to the side, away from the outgoing traffic of the burning opera house. "How do you know that monster?"

"He's not a monster!" Adrienne shouted, "He's a man, and I've met him once before. He probably doesn't even know who I am. I think I scared him by using his name tonight." She shook her head in disbelief. How could this have happened?

"That's what you meant by eighteen years, Rienne." Jenay said, putting everything together.

"Yes, we met, long ago. He's been in my dreams ever since. At first he was just a friend, but as I got older I " She couldn't say this to Jenay. It was inappropriate at this time.

"That's the man you were talking about four years ago before Chandler died, isn't it? The man you were dreaming you were with!" Jenay said it with a disgusted bite to her voice. "Did you know?" She accused. Adrienne knew exactly what she meant.

"Yes. I knew what he looked like." Adrienne answered. She knew Jenay was trying to make her feel shame, a disgust of her own, but she only felt anger, anger like none she had ever experienced. "But if you knew him you'd understand that doesn't matter!"

"Yes, you're right," Jenay's tone was cold, "what he looks like is nothing compared to what he has done! He's just committed mass murder!"

Adrienne's face went expressionless. "You don't get it, do you?"

"I don't want to get it, Rienne. We're friends, but if you're taking that freak's side in this whole mess then I think we should say goodbye. He is a monster, Adrienne. Open your eyes. So what you met him a long time ago! So what you've had this little fantasy for God only knows how many years! He probably hasn't even thought about you. In fact he'd probably murder you on the spot. Just because you met a person once doesn't mean you know him!" Jenay's words burned harshly into Adrienne's soul, but she knew they were just words. False words. People don't change that much, they just lose touch with who they are. She clung to the hope that Erik was not what all these people thought he was. She prayed she was right about people.

"If that's the way its going to be, then so be it." Adrienne replied. "This is where we say farewell."

XXX

Below the Opera House…

Erik felt broken. What had he become? Was he this murderer everyone was chanting for? Was he this person who could punish without impunity? The answer was yes. He had become that horrible creature everyone thought him to be when they looked at his face. He had become the mask that he wore, cold and expressionless. Detached. He was rage and betrayal. He had forgotten about compassion and understanding. He had never received them, so why should he have to give them to anyone?

Because that's what it means to be human, Erik. He told himself, tears welling in his eyes, spilling bitterly over his cheeks. Humans make mistakes, and humans forgive. The good ones do at least. He'd made the choice to let Christine go. He loved her. He loved her more than his soul could bear, and because of that he could not bring himself to go through with killing Raoul, forcing her to stay down here in the darkness. He had to be here, he had no choice but to live in solitude, but it was evil to cage Christine. If he kept her here he really would be a monster.

He told himself, tears welling in his eyes, spilling bitterly over his cheeks. He'd made the choice to let Christine go. He loved her. He loved her more than his soul could bear, and because of that he could not bring himself to go through with killing Raoul, forcing her to stay down here in the darkness. He had to be here, he had no choice but to live in solitude, but it was evil to cage Christine. If he kept her here he really be a monster.

"Take her!" He cried. "Forget me! Forget all of this!" He choked, spinning away from the couple. He couldn't stand for them to be here any longer. He wanted them to just leave him in his loneliness, to get used to the idea he would never find the kind of love that Raoul and Christine shared. They would give up everything for each other. No one would give up anything for him, not with how he was now. You don't deserve anyone's love.

"Leave me alone forget all you've seen!" He repeated, hearing the voices of the others growing nearer. Raoul and Christine couldn't be here when they arrived. "Go now! Don't let them find you! Take the boat and swear to me never to tell the secret you know of the angel in Hell!" He fled into the back of his chambers, the sorrow and disgrace overwhelming him like a horrible plague.

Christine came to him then, sadness written all over her sweet, beautiful face. "Christine, I love you." He said, as if that wasn't obvious by now. She smiled a forgiving smile. She knew. She knew, but couldn't feel the same way. She opened his hand, placing the ring within his palm. She was giving it to him. A gesture, but of what? Did it really matter? All of this was over. He was to be alone again.

XXX

Adrienne was filled with anger when she found her carriage. Jacques was waiting for her, his face anxious. "What happened? Has there been some horrible accident? Someone was saying a madman attacked the opera." He hurried up to her.

Adrienne paused one moment, her anger mixing with sadness. This is what these people think of you, Erik. What happened? I would like to know… "They were mistaken." She said aloud. "Terribly mistaken." She whispered. "Take me back to the hotel. We're leaving, Jacques."

"What about Madame Clement?"

"She'll just have to find another ride." Adrienne replied coldly. If she never heard that name again it would be too soon. How dare she assume she knew Erik! Jenay was the one who was saying that you couldn't know a man from one meeting. Well, she was a hypocrite. Jenay knew nothing about Erik, had never met him, or spoken with him. She'd never heard how gentle his voice could be, how tender his touch felt. Tears shimmered in her eyes as she thought of him and what had occurred.

She climbed into the back and leaned against the cushions. As she did she heard the angry voices of the other patrons. They were screaming for vengeance. They wanted the madman to die. Fools. All of them were fools. They had just witnessed a tragedy and they clamored for more death, more pain. Couldn't they see? Oh, God, were they blind?

The world had gone insane!

Erik… where are you?

XXX

They had come, and they wanted him dead. He didn't blame them. He had committed such horrible crimes, horrible in their eyes. Perhaps he should die, just give up and let them take him. They would probably hang him. It would be quite poetic, he thought, quite poetic indeed. He was nothing but a shell now, so it didn't really matter what happened to him. He was broken. The kind of broken that was too hard to mend.

He closed his eyes, thoughts pouring through his head like rain. He could hear a voice in his mind, a voice that was not his own. This is what these people think of you. He saw tears. Tears and anguish. For him? Who would cry for him? Who would be so foolish to feel for this creature of darkness? Was there really someone out there who was reaching out their heart for him, or was he just grasping in his desperation for answers?

Oh, Erik… Despair filled his thoughts, wrapping agony around his soul. He felt something he had never thought he would feel. No, he couldn't give up now. He had come too far, survived through too much to succumb to his own self-loathing. With a renewed mission he grabbed his sword and headed for an exit.

XXX

Adrienne packed her things quickly. It wasn't a hard job considering that she hadn't unpacked much, just the dress she wore and a few other things she would have needed for that night. She wasn't staying so all that was irrelevant. She only paused a moment to gaze at herself in the mirror. She was surprised to see tears on her face. She hadn't even noticed she had been crying.

What had she expected from the realization that the world had gone mad? When she was young she had seen the world through the eyes of the pure, eyes that saw nothing but love and compassion. Now she saw the truth, the cruelty. Those people wanted death, so let them have it, but they were not going to get Erik.

She wiped away the tears, smearing the wetness across her cheeks. Let them murder each other. For those few minutes she had seen Erik she had experienced the first real moments of joy since Chandler had passed. She wasn't going to let them take that away from her. Leaving her bags she rushed back downstairs.

"Jacques! Jacques!" She cried, nearly out of breath. "Take me back to the opera house."

"Madame?" He questioned, the confusion clear in his eyes. He thought she was crazy. That was fine as long as he listened to her.

"Please, don't make me explain this right now, but it is imperative you get me back there."

"Yes, Adrienne." He nodded, understanding the determination in her voice. "As quickly as I can."

XXX

There was no escape. Erik had reached the surface and made it outside, but it was no different out there than it was inside. However, out here he was vulnerable. He knew every inch of his underground lair, everyplace he could hide. It was his fortress. Out here was foreign territory. Of course he had traveled the streets of Paris before, even the world, but he could not use them like he used the darkness.

He felt the pain of the shot before hearing it. One of the policemen had fired the shot, hitting him in the shoulder. He cried out, his hand covering the wound instinctively. "There he is!" The policeman shouted, pointing down the alleyway. The sound of his voice spurred Erik into action. He decided, due to his injury, that now was not the best time to fight. So he turned and ran, stumbling down another dark alley.

"It would have been better if he'd just shot me in the heart." He mumbled, pulling his hand away from his shoulder. Blood covered his fingertips and dripped into his hand. It was beginning to pool and stain his ivory shirt. The wound was painful, but he would probably live. Unless he bled to death first, and if he didn't find a way to stop the bleeding soon he probably would die from this pathetic little pinprick. He cursed and forced himself on.

He had no time to stop and think of ways he would go. Doing that would ensure he would meet his end. Just go… He told himself. Think later. He recalled that voice to his mind, that gentle tearful voice whispering to him. No, there would be no stopping. He had to move…

XXX

Adrienne's heart clenched inside her chest. That sinking feeling was coming back to her. There was pain, a deep, biting pain, but not her own. Please be okay. She thought, squeezing her eyes shut. "How much longer?" She asked Jacques.

"Almost there, Madame." Jacques answered.

Adrienne nodded, relieved, and looked out the side. Suddenly a flash of white caught her eyes. Something inside screamed for her to give it her attention. "STOP!" She cried. Jacques abruptly pulled the carriage to a stop and Adrienne jumped out.

"What is it?" Jacques asked, but Adrienne was already running into the alley.

The sound her shoes made on the stones pounded in her head. She drew closer to what she had seen and knew it was what she had thought it was, or to be precise, who she had thought it was. She dropped next to him. "Erik? Erik, are you all right?" Stupid question, she thought, her eyes finding the blood covering his shirt.

His eyes fluttered open, but only barely. He whispered something, but she could not make it out. She placed a hand on his cheek. He was deathly pale and so cold. If she didn't get him out of here soon he would not survive. "Jacques! Come and help me!" She called, turning around for only a moment before returning her attention to Erik. What have they done to you? "It will be okay." She said softly, her fingers stroking his face. "I promise you, everything will be okay."

His hand weakly grasped hers, his eyes meeting hers. "Who are you?" He asked.

She offered a tender smile. "My name is Adrienne." She said, "but I have no time to explain the rest. Just let us help you, and I will tell you everything later."

"Let me die." He whispered, and her heart filled with anguish.

"No…"

XXX

The injury had been worse than he had first calculated. He was going downhill, and fast. He groped along a wall, pulling himself along the alley with almost all the strength he had left. He knew he was going to die now. He had tried to make it, but it wasn't meant to be. This was the end, and he was ready.

He let himself slide down the brick until he was resting against the wall. Light from the street shone just inside the alley, covering him in brightness. He lived his whole life in darkness and desolation. He might as well die in the light. He let his eyes close, welcoming the peace of eternal slumber. He just hoped no one would find him until he was truly gone. He would like to die alone.

When he heard the footsteps he was certain his wish had not been granted. They had found him surely. Yet, there was only one set of feet. Someone had stopped next to him, was saying something, but he didn't want to open his eyes. Let them think him dead. It was better that way. But then he felt the hand on his face, and the caressing touch.

He forced himself to look. It was the woman he had seen in the mirror. The woman who had appeared at the opera house. She had known his name. She had tried to warn him, but how had she known what was to happen? And why did she want to help him? Most of all he wanted to know how she knew his name?

As his mind clouded with thoughts one struck him violently. He had seen her before. He had dreamt about her and very vividly. "Oh, how long you've haunted me…" He moaned. She didn't seem to hear him. She shouted at someone, her voice ringing clear and painful in his head. She turned back to him, words of reassurance coming from her lips as she touched his cheek.

He took her hand, feeling the delicate fingers in his grasp. "Who are you?"

"Adrienne." She said, and would tell him everything else later. Okay. Fine, but she was wasting her time. There would be no later.

"Let me die." He implored.

"No." She said, shaking her head stubbornly. "I won't let you die. You have to hold on. I said you were going to be fine." She placed his hand between hers. They were soft, warm. He wanted to hold them forever. Forever possibly being the next few minutes if he couldn't keep his eyes open.

He looked up at her and saw her soulful eyes gazing back, willing him to stay with her. There was a fire there, burning behind those silver orbs. He could see the flicker there, the flame strong in her heart. That flame? Was it for him? Nonsense. He thought. Then why did he keep feeling like it was? If only he could remember where he had seen her before. He had to have met her at some point in his life. Why couldn't he remember?

His eyes were drifting shut again, and the darkness was pouring over him. The young woman's warmth was fading as well as his own cold seeping into her flesh. Even in death he found a way to taint others. "Let me go…" He murmured. "You must leave me." Everyone else did…

XXX

Erik was giving up, and Adrienne couldn't let that happen. His eyes were filled with so much agony, and that was no way to go. She had let one man she loved go, and she refused to do it again. "Please don't leave me." She whispered, brushing her fingers through his hair. "You can't." She lowered her mouth and covered his, placing all her emotion in the kiss. Everything she had ever felt rose inside her, and when she felt him respond her heart soared.

Jacques finally found them. "That's not who I think that is, is it?" He inquired, worriedly.

"Later." Adrienne said. "All you need know if that he's a friend, and everything they're saying about him is wrong. Help me, Jacques. He's going to die if we don't."

"Always, Madame Delano." He said, bending to help her lift Erik from the ground. She put one arm around her shoulders and Jacques took the other, lending him aid all the way back to the carriage. It was slow going, but they finally made it and he helped them into the back.

"Get us home." Adrienne ordered, "gently, but quickly."

She ripped some cloth from one of the layers on her dress. It was already stained with blood anyway. She made makeshift compresses from the cloth and pressed them over Erik's wound. If she could stop the bleeding there was a good chance he would live. He would be weak for a while, but that was the main thing, living. "Talk to me." She pleaded. She needed to keep him awake. She was afraid that once he went silent it would be permanent. She needed to hear his voice.

XXX

He felt the soft press of her lips, the tender gesture chasing away the darkness. This was not a kiss of pity or of desperation. This was a touch of passion. He'd never felt such a current of emotion from another human being. He gave in to her, returning the kiss with his own need. When they parted he was filled with something he had never felt before, something he couldn't quite place.

She and her coachman helped him into their carriage and she held him. He was vaguely aware of her attempts to stop his bleeding. When she requested him to speak he did, asking the question that had been on his tongue since she arrived. "Why are you helping me?" The words formed slowly through the haze surrounding him. "I'm a devil," he said, "or are you blind?"

"I must be blind then," she answered, pushing the hair from his face, "because I see no devil here."

He took her hand. "Adrienne…"

"Yes?"

"Sing to me."

"I'm afraid I'm a horrible singer." She answered. "You don't want to hear me sing."

"No…Please…" He whispered, placing her hand against her lips momentarily. "Anything's better than silence. Will you sing for me? Anything."

"If you insist." She said.

He let her voice carry him until his pain numbed, leaving him in a tranquil peace.

TBC...

Chapter Four: Memory
Erik, and you, get to learn how Adrienne knows him