((Ayushi: I seem to be spitting this story out pretty fast compared to my other ones. Well I've been doing a lot of thinking on it since I'm addicted to the soundtrack. I listen to it 3 times today. I want to personally thank my beta reader. You know who you are. I'm not sure you would like to be named or not but still thanks. Again don't own Phantom of the Opera just write about it. Now with out further ado
LET MY OPERA(fanfic) BEGIN!!!))
Meg watched his form as she had never watched anything before. She saw the sadness still in his eyes as she got up. She saw the reluctance he had to live on, yet still she would push him. She was dizzy from the nights wonders. Her home was gone, and she was running away from a mob with a known killer who, until minutes ago, had been on the brink of killing himself. Her mother was behind her pushing her onward.
She was in-between them. Erik in front of her leading the way going far too fast sometimes. Her mother behind her pushing her to go harder on her bad knee. To her credit she didn't let out a whimper or complain about it. She pushed herself on.
The darkness swirled around her. She would have been lost in this labyrinth of a place. She felt safe between the two of them before she heard the footsteps. They pushed her into some hole in the wall just big enough for them all to fit in. He pulled her close to him, putting his coat at the level of his eyes so that he could see but most of his mask was hidden. In turn he hid her white shirt, plus his own and her golden hair from view. She felt his body pressed to her back as his arm pulled her closer. Madame Giry was behind them in the darkness.
Erik slide a hand up to her mouth. She gasped but nothing more. The men came by yelling. Erik's body tensed up at the sounds.
"Once we find him, we'll kill him. Burn him up like that nasty little face of his looks to be," one chuckled.
The other announced, "No we'll cut him up into little pieces. Damn murderer! Murderer!!!"
They went on their rampage leaving the threesome in their hidden cubby. Erik dropped his hand away and leaned out to check everything was clear. Meg looked over at him. It must be so horrible to hear people talking about you in such a way. She knew she could never handle it. He was such a strong man, but it still must hurt him a bit.
"I'm sorry you had to hear that Erik," she said softly. He looked down at her, confusion and suspicion in his cold eyes. She looked up at him her eyes full of sorrow and gentleness.
He didn't believe her. She had to be only feeling pity for him. The same pity that had led Christine to kiss him. No one would willingly want to kiss a beast like him. He shook his head, the memory of her lips now a haunting reminder of what he couldn't have.
"Erik, let's have you unhand my daughter so we can be on our way," the clearly forgotten Madame Giry demanded. Erik quickly took his arm from Meg's shoulder and pushed her away. He picked up another torch and started quickly walking away, taking the light from the women. Meg didn't move right away, her eyes big, watching his retreating figure.
"No time for day dreaming now Meg. We must be going," her mother told her sharply. She pushed the girl along. She got up and started moving again. With the pushes and demands of her mother behind her she caught up to the Phantom. She followed behind him, the cloak he wore hitting her legs from her closeness. He stopped suddenly, making her crash into him since she was having such a hard time seeing where she was going.
He kept the torch back and looked around the corner. The women waited as patiently as they could. Meg felt like she couldn't breath. She was so scared for him, and what the mob might do to her mother and her if they found them helping him. She looked down and saw the one thing she didn't need to.
Four little mice ran towards her. She let out a squeal and jumped back. Her mother grabbed her and put a hand over her mouth. Erik looked back around ready to kill her. She had given away their position. He looked around the corner and men were coming already.
"Run," he hissed at both of them and started running down the corridor. Meg right behind him after a good shove from her mother. Madame Giry came up behind Meg, her cane clicking in the water, and letting out a gasp of pain. Meg looked back at her.
"Mother," she said worried.
"Keep going, I can keep up," she told her daughter as Meg started to slow. Erik reached back and grabbed her hand. The smell of fresh air finally coming to them in the shape of a weak wind.
They finally reached the end of the maze and Erik put a hand to the wall. He pushed it and it turned. He pulled them into the dark. Erik tossed the torch onto the ground. He then turned and helped each woman out one by one. Taking a moment to look behind they all saw the burning Opera House. A silent good bye was said before Erik led them both towards the street. In the dark of the night it was normally empty, but this night people stood around watching the flames. Others cried in fear as they had just escaped the chandelier. Some cried in mourning as their loved ones had been killed by the fire.
Erik paid no attention to any of them. He led the way through the crowd, his cape over his head and pulled over his mask as it had been when he was taking Christine to the cemetery. The dark shadow moved his way through the crowd like a ghost.
Meg was not so lucky. She followed behind him but it felt like every tear, every scream, each emotion these people were feeling was hitting her on a very personal level. The man who had made them feel so was standing in front of her, and she was helping him. She was making it so they would never be able to get revenge for their loss. Maybe finding Erik and helping him had been the wrong choice. No she had to believe this wasn't his fault. An accident maybe. Had he been wishing to grab another rope and got the wrong one?
Madame Giry limped after them. Her leg was giving out and she prayed Erik would get them something to ride on soon.
He turned back and took notice of Madame Giry's pain. He looked around and found what he needed. He raced ahead of the girl and went behind one of the carriage drivers that was staring at the burning building. He hit him over the back of the head with his hand, hitting his neck. Erik got into the carriage.
Meg looked down at the man on the ground with his eyes still open. She gasped and backed up into her mother. The image of hanging Joseph Bouquet from the ceiling came into her mind. She remembered looking up at the body as it swung down almost hitting her and some other girls. She felt a scream coming but held it in. She looked up at Erik. What was she doing? This man was a killer. It was too late to go back now. For she didn't want to be here anymore. She wanted to go home but that place was gone, and know she was with a killer.
Her mother went behind her and held out her arm. Meg helped Madame Giry into the carriage then reluctantly got in. She couldn't leave her own mother alone with a madman could she? She sat in the back looking towards him.
Erik started the horse out at a trot getting them out of the crowd with ease. After they were on an open road, he turned back, a touch of worry tinting his pained eyes.
"Are you hurt Madame Giry?" he asked, his voice softer then Meg had ever heard it.
Madame Giry sat up putting her cane beside her, "Yes I'm fine. It's just my leg." Meg looked at her mother concerned. She waved Meg off without a word.
"Where to Madame?" he asked her, not knowing anywhere to go to hide but the opera house which was in flames.
"The La Rance Inn. I am friends with the owners. When they hear of our loss they will give up a room," Madame Giry said with confidence. Erik nodded. He knew the location of the place. He had seen it before. Unlike popular belief he did come out of the Opera House from time to time. A man could only live on table scraps for so long.
The carriage traveled through empty streets for what seemed like ages. Meg couldn't wait to get up to the hotel and leave Erik. She was sure that once they got a room they would let Erik go on his way and hopefully never see him again. As the sign came into view under the gas street light she smiled. She felt a rush of relief
Meg got out and helped Madame Giry get onto the street. Meg's mother looked up at Erik.
"Find out what room we're in and come to it," she said then started walking inside. Meg's heart dropped. Her mother wanted him to follow them. Surely they won't be sharing a room with a man, let alone one as dangerous as the Phantom. Erik nodded.
"Wait," he said getting out of the carriage.
He jumped down his cape flying behind him. He walked right to them, his movements swift and majestic like a cats, and Meg for a fleeting moment thought he was going to kiss her. He took his cloak off instead and, with the grace of a dancer, tossed it around her shoulder. She thought it was like watching the wing of a bat swirl in a slight wind. His fingers delicately laced the ribbon that kept it on around ones neck.
She gave him a dumbfounded look. What did she need with his cloak?
"Your wet," he told her simply but when she still looked confused, "Your shirt is white."
She thought for a moment then looked down at her shirt. She pulled the cloak closer. She looked up into his eyes wondering why he was being so kind. She saw a dull reflection of the passion and love she had seen before. He was in shock. The poor man couldn't deal with what he was going through. She felt a sudden pity for him.
Something dawned on Meg that made everything her mother did make sense. He wasn't a madman at all. He was in love. It was a forlorn love that would never be returned. That could drive any man to extremes. Most often men were praised for that. Romeo killing himself for love. Millions of men admired forfighting for their love at sword point. Had Erik not done those very things. He had wished to have his love with him so much he had been willing to do anything. He was madly in love, not mad. He was just a man who was in love. Surely he had to do things differently. Meg had seen his face and knew courting a woman normally would be impossible. He went around it the only way he could think of, with songs, seduction and tricks.
Now he had lost the object of his affection to another man. Hundreds of men before him had gone through it, but you could not measure the depths of Erik's love with that of any man. He had more passion in him then any other man she had ever seen. She remembered watching that passion dance in his eyes while he sang during Don Juan. He had truly loved Christine. From what she had seen of him, besides his roughness, he was a kind, devoted, loving man. Who would not want a man like that? Was a marred face really reason to push him out of your heart, and life?
Her mother tugged her arm. She realized Erik was long gone. She followed her mama to the desk but everything was a blur in her mind. She was still thinking of the difference between the eyes she had seen before and the eyes she had seen just then. She couldn't shake the sight and had to be drug by her mother up to their room.
They got one on the top floor and her mother was wincing in pain by the time they got into the room. Meg closed the door and her mother sat down on the chair sighing. She rubbed her leg.
"Meg, get some ice for your dear old mum will you?" she said panting from the work out and exertion of the day. Meg nodded and went to the ice box which was a hard thing to do since it was pitch back in the room. She brought some back and put it on her mother's sore leg dutifully. She looked up and saw a shadow pass from the window and up to the only bedroom without a sound or much to look at.
"What was that mother?" Meg asked.
"Just Erik, leave him be," Madame Giry told her.
"But he's taken the only bedroom! There is two of us and only one of him. Why should he get the room by himself?" Meg demanded sounding like a little girl.
"You go tell him to get out then," she said, "As for now I will sleep in the chair and you can have the couch."
Meg complained then grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch and lay covered by it. Then the music started. A soft, mournful melody that turned to rage, then back to grievous again. He sung of love, hate, betrayal, violence, crimes, everything. She listened for a while then closed her eyes.