Chapter 1

"Erik," she moaned, as she moved closer to his bare chest.

Erik looked her over with his cool blue eyes and wrapped an arm around her waist. He watched the girl sleep for an hour before gently rising from the bed. He walked silently around the cave, smiling ironically at the thought of his being here again. He found one of his fine shirts, which had been thrown on the floor during the raids of his home beneath the deserted Opera House. Brushing it off, he slid it over his head and tucked it into his pants. He sighed softly before sitting down at his grand organ.

His fingers rested on its keys, memories of the events of the year before flooded back, causing his eyes to water. He glanced at the ring he bore on his smallest finger as the tears began to fall. His angel, the woman he had loved, his Christine had handed this ring as he told her he loved her. Then she had gone off to marry the Vicomte de Chagny. He had left this home then, vowing never to return, fully knowing that the memories of her would be the strongest here. His mind replayed the song of love, which Christine and Raoul had sung on the rooftop. As the bitter recollections possessed him, Erik began to pound at the keys in a furious passion.

He only stopped when he saw his reflection in the broken mirrors, and the monster within them. He got up and began to search for the one thing he had detested the most - his mask. He crept slowly about the room where the girl slept, and found the mask beneath some covers he had not seen before. Retrieving it, he carefully placed it over the distortion on his face. Checking that it was secure, he watched the girl sleep again. Her fair features glowed in the soft candlelight. Her long brown hair was tousled and damp. Erik slowly moved towards her, gently placing a hand on her pale cheek. She shivered slightly at his touch, and slowly opened her dark brown eyes.

"M'ssier… Erik?" she asked, tentatively. He nodded softly, and a smile flitted across her face. "I thought I might have dreamt it all…that a man saved me and took care of me," she murmured.

Erik moved closer and sat down at the end on the bed. The girl pulled herself up into a sitting position. Her brown eyes locked with his blue ones and within them, he saw a great deal of trust, sadness and confusion.

He cleared his throat and asked "Mademoiselle, are you hungry? I can go find some food while you continue to rest."

The girl shook her head, alarm filling her eyes. "Don't leave me! Please!" Her hands clasped his arm, unshed tears shone in her eyes. After a second, she seemed to realize what she was doing and quickly let go. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-----"

Erik placed his hand on her soft lips, silencing her. He looked carefully at her, and found a need to learn what pain life had bestowed upon her. Firstly, though, he needed to learn this child's name, for she was obviously several years younger than he was.

"What is your name, child?" he asked.

"Danielle, M'ssier."

"How old are you?"

Danielle averted her eyes before answering, "Seventeen."

Erik's eyes opened in surprise. She was not even in her twenties, he had found her alone, and nearly drowned in his lake. He questioned if he should ask her where her parents were, though seeing Danielle's face, he decided against it for now. There would be time for more questions later. Erik took her delicate hands in his rough ones, and lifted her to her feet. Together they walked around what Erik hoped to be his and Danielle's new home. They soon were several feet apart from each other. Danielle had stopped to admire his music box, while Erik looked around the room.

He saw what looked like woman's clothes rumpled up in a corner. Picking them up, he saw that they were the same golden skirt, white blouse and black corset that Christine had worn during their performance on stage. His first thought was to destroy them - destroy everything that filled his mind with thoughts of her. Seeing Danielle, however, he changed his mind. Danielle was wearing one of his shirts and nothing else. While she was covered enough for modesty's sake, her slender legs were showing and visibly shivering from the cool air.

He walked over to her, and placed a hand on her shoulder. As she turned to look up at him, he put the clothing in her arms.

"Put these on," he said, "I'll turn away."

She looked at him carefully, and asked, "You won't leave me?"

He shook his head. He turned around, listening to her dress behind him. Danielle placed a hand on his back when she had finished, sending shivers down his spine. He turned to face her, and bit back a gasp.

Danielle looked almost identical to Christine. There were a few facial differences; in the eyes and hair. Christine's eyes had been full of life, wonder and love, even fully under Erik's possession. Her hair had fallen about her shoulders in soft dark waves. In Danielle's eyes, there was unmistakeable sadness that refused to leave, and her hair was straighter. Erik took a step away from her, puzzled with himself as to why he had not noted the similarity before. He recalled Christine's voice, ringing throughout the room, filled with despair, hope and love. He wondered if Danielle could sing.

"M'ssier?"

Danielle's voice brought him back to his labyrinth of night. He looked into her eyes deeply, noting the concern and apprehension. He shook off his own astonishment, and took his shirt from her.

"Come, we need to find you other things to wear. There must be some rooms in the Opera House above which were untouched by the fire," he said.

He motioned for her to follow him and began to walk towards the edge of the underground lake, where he had docked his boat. Danielle walked carefully behind him; scared she might frighten him again. Erik helped her climb into the boat, making sure she was safely inside, before pushing off with his gondola.

Neither Erik nor Danielle spoke on their journey to the Opera Populaire. Danielle wrapped her arms around her legs, watching the murky water they were passing through. Erik pushed the boat, occasionally glancing down at Danielle. He felt unexplainable warmth towards her, and wanted to make sure she would not be harmed in any sense again. They reached the dock. It was only a few feet away the steps that led up to the opera house. As they moved up the spiral stairs, Danielle began to hum an all too familiar tune for Erik's ears. He began to hum along after a short while, and then he softly sang,

"Masquerade! Paper faces on parade! Masquerade! Hide your face so the world will never find you!"

They stopped and stared at each other. Erik's breathing had become ragged and he asked, "How do you know that song?" his arm gently gripped her own.

"I was there, m'ssier, at the masquerade ball," she said softly.

"At the masquerade ball…" he repeated slowly.

"Yes, everyone was dancing and sing that song. We all had a very good time until…"

"Until what?"

"A man came in, wearing a crimson suit and skull like half mask. He rightfully… criticized Carlotta's singing, and Piangi's weight problem. He spoke callously towards the managers, and then started to talk to Christine Daaé. He grabbed something off her neck, and then disappeared. The masquerade ended right after that. Everyone was scared that the Opera Ghost, for there was no doubt in anyone's mind as to who that man was, would stir his revenge. Even mama was…" her voice broke softly at the last three words. Erik saw the tears swell in her eyes, and slowly begin to fall. He wiped the tears from her face, feeling agony at her pain.

"You don't have to say anymore, if it hurts you," he said, "let's be off."

As they continued their journey to the abandoned Opera House, Erik was deep in thought. Something had obviously happened to Danielle's mother, either at the Masquerade or sometime after. He suspected that her mother was no longer amongst the living. Several people had been killed during the infamous chandelier crash that he had caused. He did not know if Danielle or her mother was at that fated performance, what he did know was that he would never be able to forgive himself if he was the cause of her mother's death.

They reached the mirror, which led into what had once been Christine Daaé's dressing room. Erik opened the two-way mirror, holding out his hand to assist Danielle through the opening. He looked around the room, feeling his heart tear in two. He had first shown himself to Christine in this room; had first felt the wonderful pressure of her hand in his own. The room had been partly destroyed by the fire. The beauty with which Christine had once filled this room had vanished. He would not feel her touch again.

"Erik, are you all right?" Dimly he heard Danielle speak to him.

He opened his eyes in surprise when he felt the sudden pressure around his torso as Danielle wrapped her arms around him. He looked down at her, seeing that she was biting her bottom lip, her eyes closed. Very slowly and carefully, he put his own arms around her, enjoying be able to hold her, knowing that she did not fear or despise him.

She has not yet seen you without you mask, the treacherous part of his mind said, bursting his happiness. Erik was sure that once Danielle was to see the deformity of his face, she would not hold him as she did now, and like Christine, could not love him. He never wanted that to happen. He could not express the gratitude he felt that Danielle had not said anything about his mask, nor could he express the emotions that she was inadvertently sending through his body.

"Erik?" her voice vibrated against his chest.

"Yes, Danielle?"

"Please don't let me go."

He heard the pleading in her voice. Erik tightened his grip around her, breathing in the scent of her hair and feeling his body respond to her touch. Danielle lifted her face so that it was barely an inch away from his, and smiled softly.

"I will never let anyone hurt you again," he whispered, as his lips tenderly brushed against her cheek.

He was being reckless with this, but he seemed to know that she would not turn away, and he was right.

Danielle's face seemed to glow after he kissed her. Her eyes possessed a light he had not seen before, shining with a strange new happiness. She placed her head on his shoulder, sighing with contentment. They continued to hold each other for what seemed like hours before Erik remembered why they had left his home. He slowly took a step back, unwilling to release her from his grip.

With a sigh, he said, "Come, we need to find you some more clothes for you to wear, so that we may go out from time to time."

He walked towards the door and entered the hall. Danielle took his hand, intertwining her fingers with his as they began to walk in the Opera House. Erik kept his smile to himself. As young as Danielle's body may be, her soul and mind was much older, and he felt himself a valid suitor.

Several rooms had been burnt though, everything in them destroyed. Erik moved through them silently, knowing he had been the cause of this useless destruction over a girl. Now he regretted setting the Opera Populaire in flames, for it had given him a steady income. The wooden floor creaked as they entered another dressing room, and he felt Danielle squeeze his hand. He glanced down to see that she looked anxious, and squeezed her hand back, reassuringly.

They had found the rooms that had not been reached by the fires, and began to look for clothing. After a few minutes, they had managed to find dresses, nightgowns, but very little undergarments. Danielle laughed at some of the ludicrous outfits she found, which caused Erik's heart to warm. He watched as she continued to look vainly for one more dress, a faint smile on his lips. When he finally motioned to her that it was time for them to return, their arms were still only half-full. With a sigh, they began the trip back to the home underneath the ground.

Danielle placed her new clothes neatly on a table as Erik moved towards his organ. Taking his seat, he began to play the opening piece from his Don Juan Triumphant, thinking about the feelings Danielle invoked in him. He had found her half-drowned in the underground lake, tangled in some weed. She was completely exposed, and looked near death, if not already there. Erik was still unsure why he had pulled her from the water. Under normal circumstances, he would have paid no notice to anyone in distress, and he would have never saved anyone either, for the countless amount of times that no one had saved him.

There had to have been something about Danielle's unconscious body that had caused him to pull off his coat and shirt and dive into the chilly water. He had untangled her from the weeds as quickly as he could and carried her to the stone footpath. At first, he thought he had been too late; there was no movement in her chest to signify that she was still breathing. He had pushed against her torso vigorously and to his relief; she had coughed up some of the water that was suffocating her lungs.

Erik had then grabbed his shirt and put it on her as she fainted, pulling the coat on himself, and easily lifting her into his arms. He had taken her to his nearest home, her health his greatest concern. She had stirred once in his arms, her eyes giving off signs of fear. Erik gently reassured her that she was safe, and that "Erik" would protect her. The fear swiftly vanished, and she'd smiled softly. Before she fell into a deep sleep, she breathed his name.

Erik reached his former home and gently laid her down on his swan shaped bed. He rushed around the home, finding a blanket to cover her. As he went back to her side, he had noted that, within his year's absence someone had cleared the broken glass, and replaced two of them. He shrugged off the feeling of apprehension, and covered her. He then lay down next to her, and watched her as she slept.

"Erik, stop playing that." Danielle's voice sounded as though she were in great pain. Erik turned to face her, and saw to his great dismay that she was crying. He left the organ, went to her quickly, cupping her face with his hands.

"What is it?" he asked softly, knowing that the music of Don Juan Triumphant was filled with his conflicting emotions, it should not have anyone crying as Danielle did.

Not this early on in the piece, at least, Erik thought. Danielle looked at him with bloodshot eyes, wishing Erik would be able to read what was wrong in her eyes, though knowing that he wouldn't be able to.

"I was at the opera house the night that song performed," she said, her voice monotone. "That's where I…" she looked away, struggling to say what she needed to.

She gently moved away from Erik's grip, incapable of looking at him, or enduring his caressing touch. Her voice and body shook, though he could tell that she was trying to be strong within the tears.

"Mama took me to the opera several times. She was in love with the music, and the tale of the Opera Ghost," Erik stiffened slightly as Danielle continued; "she had hoped that I would love them as well, and she was correct. When she heard that the Ghost had written an Opera of his own, she had to go. She begged and begged Papa to let her go, because he didn't want her to. Papa thought that Mama had a lover at the Opera House because she was constantly going. When he finally agreed, she proclaimed that I was to go as well, and we went. It was a stunning opera, filled with so many diverse emotions. I wish I could have seen how it really ended. Christine Daaé was singing, and Piangi was supposed to come out to sing with her. However, he didn't. Someone else came out and began to sing with a powerful passion that Christine could barely match. I can still hear the words to the song that they sang."

Erik, was filled with dread, sure of what would come next. He took a deep breath as she continued with her tale.

"It's when they finished that the disaster occurred. Christine wrenched off the man's mask. Everyone started to scream at the sight of his face, as if it were the face of a monster. I wouldn't know, for I never did see it. Christine and the man had vanished as the chandelier came crashing down towards the stage. As it hit, a great fire had burst, and mama… she was caught in the fire. She screamed for me to get out and save myself, but all I could do was stand there, horrified, trying to think of a way to save her. Someone grabbed me and carried me out, but mama… she never made out," she finished on a sob.

Erik turned his head. He could not look at her, knowing that he had been the cause of her pain. He stared into his hands, recalling all the now faceless people he had murdered with no thought, and adding Danielle's mother to that endless group made everything worse than it already was. He knew that he was a monster, and a monster could not hope for one as gentle as Danielle or Christine to find a place in their hearts for him. Danielle's story did not explain why she had been in the lake.

He frowned, and then sighed, damning himself for causing her so much pain. A soft sound caught his attention, and he turned to look at its source. Danielle was sitting at the edge of the lake, staring, as if in a trance, into its misty waters.

Her lips were moving slightly as she sang words that Christine had once sang to him, "Past the point of no return, no going back now,"

He openly stared at her as she sang, letting the words wash over him. She stopped suddenly and looked up at him, confusion and pain flowing from her eyes. He needed to tell her, and pray that she wouldn't turn from him.

"Danielle," he began, but she cut him off immediately.

"Don't talk about it," she said, "Please, let's talk of something else." He looked down at her with sombre eyes. His mind knew that once she learned the truth, that he had been the cause of her mothers' death, she would turn from him with the rest of the world. He did not want that to happen.

"You sing well," he remarked.

She smiled softly, and said in a voice barely above a whisper, "Thank you."

"Who trained your voice?"

Silence followed the question. Erik shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he waited. Danielle's smile weakened, and she answered in a quiet voice, "My mother taught me." He knew at once that he should not have asked. Once again damning himself, he was surprised when Danielle said, "She had had no training for her voice."

He struggled to hide his astonishment. Danielle had sung beautifully with insufficient training. To be taught by someone who knew limited information of the art and still be able to do it that well was quite an accomplishment in Erik's mind. He knew that with suitable training, which he could give, her voice could easily match his own. Something that Christine could now never do.

Erik offered Danielle his hand, which she took, and lifted her carefully to her feet, leading her to his massive organ. He sat down at the small bench. He played a few notes, and told Danielle to follow them with her voice. She hit each note with perfection. As their first lesson progressed, he ascertained the actual level of her skill, whilst making a decision as to where the next one should proceed. He let the music into his wounded soul; relaxing in the notes, he played. He stopped after a few hours, when she appeared to faint.

He smiled calmly at her and moved to the far side of side of the bench for her to sit next to him. When she was seated, he sighed. She nestled her head against his chest, and as he wrapped his arms around her petite waist, she felt secure. Though she hardly knew Erik, she cared deeply for him, and did not want to leave his side.

Erik rested his head on her, pulling her soft body closer to his firm one. He knew he had to tell her the truth about himself, about the monster that lay within him. Let her know that he was the cause of her beloved mothers' death. He looked down at her innocent face, and saw that she had fallen asleep. Erik sighed, and lifted her in his arms, taking her once again to the bed. As he placed her down, the monster made his decision. He would not tell her the horrible truth. For, to let her know would cause him to lose her, and once again live a life of excruciating loneliness.

Erik could not resign himself to that life again.