A/N: Thank you sooo much to all of my reviewers! I appreciate it so much! Thank you all for sticking with me through this story. This is going to be the last chapter of this book. But I will have book two here shortly! This month definantly! It will be called Clouds Shroud the Light. I tallied the votes and there was a tie between three of the titles, so I chose the one that I thought fit best. Well, please review! Thanks!

Chapter 22

Walking through the streets, Erik was in a hurry to get to Nadir's house. He knew that Nadir would be in his house in Paris, for it was springtime. Of course, Erik loathed this time of year, everything was so cheerful, but Nadir had always said that he loved the weather. Inside, Erik was tearing himself apart. He didn't know if he had done the right thing by leaving the house when he did, but Emma's accusations were too much.

He couldn't believe that she thought that all he had done was in order to fulfill his own selfish wants. Indeed, Erik would give anything to have Christine back, but he would have never used an innocent child to do so. And when Erik had taken Emma in, that was all she was, an innocent child. Too curious, yes, but he would never have used a little girl to pursue his lusts.

At last, he reached his old friends house. It was just as Erik remembered: three stories, white with green trim, and a wrap-around porch. Erik had always been jealous of Nadir's social standing, for Erik was never given the chance to rise up with people of importance. Sure, he had money, but never did he mingle with the socialites.

Erik walked up the steps and knocked on the door. He would have hated to barge in there and give poor old Nadir a heart attack. Although, when the man did answer the door, the look on his face showed that he might just have a heart attack anyways.

"Erik!" Nadir said once he had gotten past his initial shock.

"Nadir," replied Erik.

"Come in, come in!" Nadir insisted as he ushered Erik through the door.

The masked man gratefully stepped inside and removed his cloak, placing it on the rack. He heard the door closing behind him and turned to face his old friend.

"What brings you out at this late hour?" asked Nadir.

"What are you still doing up at this late hour?" retorted Erik when he noticed the fire still going and the tea on the table.

Nadir chuckled lightly. "Oh, just a good read, that's all."

"Oh? And what is it this time?" Erik asked politely.

"Dracula by Bram Stoker. Fantastic writer. Personally, Dr. Van Helsing reminds me of myself."

"You always find some way to put yourself into a story, do you not, Nadir?"

"Well, you know me. It makes the book seem more real that way," said Nadir as he took a seat in his armchair in front of the fire. Erik took the seat opposite him and gazed into the blazing flames."

"What's troubling you, my old friend?" asked Nadir, noticing the look of concentration on his face.

"I guess one could say, family problems," Erik said while still looking at the fire.

"Family?"

Erik looked at Nadir. "Not real family of course." Nadir let out the breath he was holding. "But about 11 years a go, a five year old girl showed up in the Opera House, her name was Emma. I took her in, for I did not want her wandering the halls of my home, you know how dangerous they can be. Well, when I questioned the girl about her parents, she told me their names, which turned out to be Christine and Raoul." Erik looked at Nadir to see if the names registered with him. From the look on his face, Erik took it that he did not. "You remember Christine Daae? The girl that I fell in love with at the Opera House, but ran away with the Vicomte de Chagny?" A look of understanding and surprise came into Nadir's face.

"Oh yes. I remember that quite well. You were devastated when she left…" Nadir said quietly. "And this girls parents were the same people from the Opera?" Erik nodded his head. "Oh my…"

"Yes… And so I kept the girl, at first in order to bring suffering to Raoul, like he brought me, but then I grew attached to the girl. I raised her like she was my own for 11 years."

"So what happened?"

Erik sighed. "One day, a woman happened upon my home. Evelyn – "

"That girl from the Mazerderan Palace?" asked Nadir.

"The one and only," Erik confirmed. "When she came, Emma seemed very displeased. The other night, Evelyn and I were having a conversation about Emma, and I guess she happened to over here. That night she ran away. The next day, when I noticed she was gone, I went directly to her parents' house. Of course she was there. I asked her why she left me, and she said it was because I did not want her. And of course I wanted her, Nadir! She accepted me! But she did not believe me. So I left and came here."

When Erik had finished his tale, Nadir had a great look of sympathy on his shadowed face. To Erik, it seemed like Nadir understood perfectly, which he always did.

"I am deeply sorry, Erik. But, if you don't mind me asking, why did you come here?"

"Honestly, I am not sure. The only reason I can muster up is that I wanted to talk to someone who actually understood me, and was an old friend," Erik replied as he clasped a hand on nadir's shoulder. Nadir returned the friendly gesture.

"I am always, here, Erik. Now come, you must be exhausted. I'll prepare you a room." Nadir rose from his chair, followed by Erik, and walked upstairs.

Erik was grateful to his old friend, and promised to himself that he would find some way to repay him.

The following day…

Christine awoke the next morning with a slight headache. Looking next to her, she noticed that Raoul was still sound asleep.

Probably had a late night drinking, she thought sourly to herself.

She rose quietly from her bed, careful not to wake her husband. Behind her she heard him moan, a sign that he was about to wake up. She kicked herself on the inside, angry that she was so careless as to wake her husband. Next to her she heard more groaning and she felt his cold gaze land on her.

"What are you doing up," he asked sleepily.

"It is nearly nine. I always wake up at this time," she retorted.

Raoul sat straight up behind her. "How dare you take that tone with me!" he said harshly. "And breakfast should already be made at this time in the morning. From now on, you are to be up at seven every morning."

"It doesn't take two hours to make breakfast," argued Christine as she turned to face Raoul.

Raoul was quick as lightening when he heard his wife begin to argue with him. "I am tired of your attitude, Christine," he spit out as he grabbed her neck. She tried to pry his hand off her, but to no avail. Her struggle only made him grasp harder, throttling the breath out of. "Now you will go make breakfast. And you will tell no one of this," he ordered as he threw her onto the ground.

Slowly, Christine regained her posture and glared at her husband, who was smirking on the bed, "You bastard…" she said softly before she marched out of the room.

With tears threatening to pour down her cheeks, she attempted to make a suitable breakfast. Her mind swirled with different thoughts. Thoughts on what she did to make her husband so angry with her, or what she did to make him go drink every night. Christine was so caught up in her thoughts that she failed to notice her husband stalking up behind her. He quickly took two steps and was behind her, wrapping his arms around her shaking body. One arm went around her waist, and the other hand rested around her throat, while he grinded his body against hers.

"Get off me…" she whispered.

"I am your husband. I can do whatever I want," he said coldly in her ear.

"But that does not give you the right to degrade me," she retorted.

Raouls' grip on her tightened. "But it gives you the right to go gallivanting off with other men?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I know what you have been up to," accused Raoul, his breath stank with alcohol. "I know that you have been with that man, that - Erik." He turned her around fiercely to face him, his eyes burning with hatred.

Suddenly, he began shaking her violently, saying profanities to her as well. He was so busy focusing on her pained face that he didn't notice her hand going towards the drawer on her right. Some how she managed to open in and take out a butcher knife inside. Fastening her grip on the weapon she brought in down her husband's arm, creating g a deep gash. He cried out in pain and let go of Christine, who then ran down the hall. Raoul recovered from his pain and shock and took off after his wife, where he found her in their bedroom. She was standing on the far side of the bed, and Raoul hurtled himself over the bed and tackled his wife to the ground. In the sudden movement, Christine had dropped her knife, and lay helpless on the ground to her husband's brutal beatings.

Desperately she tried to grab her knife, which laid a foot away. She fought against the pain that Raoul was inflicting, and reached for the knife. At last she felt her hand grasp firmly around the handle of the knife. Taking a deep breath, she raised the knife over her husband and thrust it deep into his back. She flinched at how loud he cried out in pain, but still he attempted to attack Christine. Once more, she stabbed him the back, this time causing a fatal blow.

She heard him whisper "Christine" before he fell limp on top of her, blood soaking her nightgown. Pushing the dead body off of her, Christine stood up, trembling, and looked down at what she had done. She was mortified at what she saw, letting out a scream, before she covered her mouth.

"What's going on?" she heard a voice say behind her.

Still shaking she turned around.

I had just gotten out of bed, for I heard ruckus going on in my house. At first I went into the kitchen, but no one was there. I glanced around, to try to see if I could find anyone, but there wasn't a soul in sight. I was about to go into the living room, when I heard a scream from my parents' bedroom. Hesitantly I walked down the hallway, unsure and afraid of what I would find. I walked in through the door and saw my mother standing there, her whole figure trembling.

"What's going on?" I asked, my voice slightly shaking.

My mother turned around and looked at me with tears streaking down her cheeks. I looked over her form and was mortified at what I saw. Her clothes were covered n blood, whose, I did not know, and she was holding a knife in her hand, which was covered in red blood as well. My mother didn't say a word, her tears were enough to tell me that something horrible had happened.

Slowly I crept around the bed, and each step I took made my body begin to tremble more and more. When I had at last gotten to the other side of the bed and looked at the body on the floor, my hand flew to my mouth as I turned my head and closed my eyes. There lay my father, dead on the ground, two gashing holes in his back. I looked over at my mother, who seemed to be just as saddened by this as I was, but I knew better. She had killed him, though I did not know why. To me it seemed like they shared a marvelous relationship, one filled with love and trust. But if this were so, why did she kill him?

I turned away from the horrendous sight, my whole world falling apart. Behind me I heard my mother trying to say something to stop me, but I kept going. I wanted nothing to do with her, she was a murderer, and one without cause. Everything around me seemed to go in slow motion as I walked through my house. I desperately needed to get out of this house. Where I was going to go, what I was going to do, I had no clue. All I knew was that I needed to get away, somewhere where my mother could not bother me. Of such a place, I did not know.

Once I had gotten out of my house, I began running. I ran like there was no tomorrow. And for me, I didn't know if there would be.

Muahahaha! Cliff hanger at the end of a book. I am so evil! But review and I will have the next book here soon!

It is a fanfiction sin to read and not review!