Author's notes: So, here's the next chapter! And behold: it's from Erik's POV! Yay! Beware – I dislike his movie backstory, the Devil´s Child thing and all that. It takes away too much of his character and makes him behave without reason at times. So I'm using primarily the Kay story, but combining it with the musical. Here you go, I hope you like it!

sexysarah– thanks a lot, read on!

Enrinye–Do not speak the name! He is forever Le Fop to me! (takes out Punjab Lasso & kills Raoul… again)

EriksIngenue – (calling to someone in the other room) Hey, Erik, when do you think you'll have the next chapter ready? They loved the last one. (notices readers) Whoops! Um… yeah… well… (organ music plays in the background) Heheh…

Anyway, seriously now, thanks. I hope this one will match the last one's quality.

Bumble0Bee – Hints of RC are to come, but no, this is definitely more EC.

lady kathrin – thanks. I loved Kay's book. Read on!

longblacksatinlace – hey, I have to do cliffhangers sometimes! Heh, thanks & read on!

starnat– Thanks, I'm healthy now. Here's the chapter!

EriksSylvia – The sadness was inevitable, I'm afraid. Thanks & read on!

X X X

Chapter 6 – Evening Whispers

X X X X

For the first time since I had entered my underground kingdom, the journey didn't seem as dark and silent as it had always been.

It was, after all, the reason I had chosen to build my home, my perfect, unique house, five stories under the ground. I wanted peace and quiet, the two things that seemed to be denied to me for most of my life. Always I had been surrounded by sound and chaos, disharmony that tormented my ears and made me wince time and time again.

No one could understand one such as myself. Certainly not. I was unique, a genius, I had been told often by Nadir, the only person save the worthy Madame Giry whom I dared call a friend. The word seemed foreign to me – I was destined to be alone from the moment of my birth, I knew that, so it was difficult to accept that perhaps there were several precious few individuals scattered across the many countries of the world that would see past the horror of my features and into what burned within my shell.

That was why I had built the house on the lake. I needed solitude. I sought it after the life of adventure that had begun to bore me intensely. All I wanted was to be like everyone else. I could never hope to achieve that! I would always be an outcast, I realized. I was almost ready to accept that even if I would look like a normal man, I would still be lonely, for the very reason I was worshipped as a genius – my soul, even if it wouldn't bear the many scars, was also different than the others.

My soul… I still have it. It is still there. As is the heart of a child. It is foolish to say such things, to admit such weakness, but there was still part of me that remained innocent. Make no mistake – I do not make excuses for my crimes. But despite my darkness, despite my attempts to wipe longing from my core, I still kept the foolish hope that might as well be my end. That perhaps, just perhaps a miracle lied in store for me.

I was holding the miracle's hand now, unwilling to let go even for a second, lest she would disappear, flee from my grasp like a rose-scented mist that I too late realized was poison that awoke something within me.

I never expected myself to be capable of love, not anymore. Come to think of it, I can count the people I have loved and that have loved me back during the long years of my existence on the fingers of one hand. And almost all were gone, dead or far away. But now I had a new purpose.

Strange as it may sound, I have been afraid of the inevitable moment of revelation, when I would have to show myself to my faithful student. Not that I had to, mind you – it would be so very easy to make her believe I was her Angel for an eternity, control her mind from afar, forbid her to run off, because I knew that I held great power over her…

But no. I knew I would show myself to her eventually, willingly, because I wanted… needed… to try to see if there was any chance that she would accept not the Angel, not the Phantom, but the man behind both. I didn't want to hide behind either pseudonym anymore, I wanted to show myself without the camouflage, simply as myself, as Erik.

Now, holding her hand, leading her down with me, my resolve wavered a bit. If I wanted, I would have no problems holding her in my home forever. The sight of a living, breathing angel every day, every night, every moment I wished to be with her – and that meant always – was a tempting thought. Her eyes were fixed on me, almost unblinking. The trance was strong, but I allowed her to maintain some knowledge of what was happening. She could clearly see me, as I promised, for one thing.

My touch must have been cold, but she made no move to pull away, merely followed me obediently down the dark corridor. The torch I was carrying would have been unnecessary if I was alone – I could see perfectly in the dark – but I didn't want her to get frightened at the thought of getting lost in the corridors.

But it was her expression that pleased me the most. It was a common side effect of hypnosis that the medium's eyes would be unfocused and dreamy, but her gaze was sober. And she seemed more awed and amazed than frightened or hurt at the thought of being deceived… though I suppose she hadn't yet realized what was really happening.

In her eyes, I saw things that even the boy, that damnable Vicomte de Chagny, hadn't earned from her. Fascination, excitement, awe… but also a gentleness that made me look away briefly. The child still trusted me, in her innocence, and that wasn't entirely a result of my direct influence.

In sleep, he sang to me

In dreams, he came…

That voice, which calls to me

And speaks my name…

She was singing quietly to one of the melodies I had played for her often – a simple, quite catchy tune that was easy to remember and yet pleasant to the ears. Not extremely complicated, nothing to be immensely proud of, since it couldn't be considered my greatest masterpiece… but her voice would probably make even the utterly disastrous tones of some of our resident orchestra sound like a melody from paradise.

And do I dream again?

For now, I find

The Phantom of the Opera is there

inside my mind…

I turned to her again, arching an eyebrow delicately, quite certain that the corners of my mouth had to be twitching in an extremely rare smile. Her singing was always a pleasant distraction compared to the usual dealings with the managers, but I couldn't help but be amused. Not so much of the ingénue I thought she was, I suppose – the constant pleas that I show myself had a purpose, it seems. Even my little Christine had somewhat of a scheming mind. Those verses were prepared.

Sing once again with me
our strange duet
My power over you
grows stronger yet

For just a second, her eyes flickered with something close to my own amusement. Well, she was the one who had begun the song and it would be most impolite of me to leave her singing alone when I could also say with music what I could not say with words.

Glancing at the magnificent staircase that was now behind us, she gave me an idea how to continue and bring her attention back to me.

And though you turn from me
to glance behind
The Phantom of the opera is there
inside your mind

Awed, she turned back to me, her fascination growing. But the journey was long and her current attire wasn't meant for traveling – thus, I had arranged a better means of transportation for her.

Awaiting us beyond yet another set of stairs was César, the Opera's finest stallion, currently in my possession. It was such a tragic waste that an animal so capable and beautiful would be treated like a common beast. A better fate would await him with me, I reasoned, since I cared for animals – those who never judged me by my appearance and appeared to enjoy my company just as much as I enjoyed theirs – and also sought a companion in my darkness other than the faithful Ayesha. Make no mistake, the Siamese cat was my joy, but there were many benefits in having a stallion at all times. Thus, César mysteriously disappeared from the stables quite recently.

Those who have seen your face
Draw back in fear

Christine continued to sing, now seated on the horse, but still watching me. I led César with utmost care, though I knew he would manage the journey without problems. After all, I was the one who knew every step, every stone, every small crevice in this Opera house. I would lead him safely.


I am the mask you wear

That was not exactly theverse I would have liked her to add to the song, but I suppose it was inevitable that she would notice the white mask on my face. But I had no intention of sating this kind of curiosity – I went to fine measures to assure that she would be comfortable tonight and fear of me was the last emotion I wanted to inspire within her.


It's me they hear

The rhyme was easy. As she continued singing, I didn't hesitate to join. There were rare occasions when I sang duets with her, because my main priority was to train her voice, not exercise mine. After all, the vocal training I had received as a small child did me little good. I was the one who brought my voice to its farthest reaches… or rather, current farthest reaches.

My/Your spirit and your/my voice
In one combined
The Phantom of the opera is there/here
inside my/your mind

The melody changed again and to be fair, I was the one who began this time, right after I helped her off the horse and into the small boat that awaited us. We have reached the lake – the journey was almost over. She was almost entirely within my grasp now.

In all your fantasies

you always knew

That man and mystery

Her timing was perfect… besides, I knew she would be able to come up with a rhyme to that one easily. She had a good ear, which is why she knew almost immediately her pitch was bad, even if she didn't know why.

Were both in you...

Yes, she knew what answer I was expecting.

But in this labyrinth

Where night is blind

The Phantom of the Opera here/there

inside my/your mind

It was the final part – there was nothing else to add. The melody was over. But I wasn't ready to give up the pleasure of hearing her voice yet. Commanding her to sing, I relished the sound of her perfect voice as it hit very high notes.

The mechanism sealing my home off from the rest of the world worked flawlessly and the many candles illuminating the shore came into view. I rowed the boat with ease, almost leaping from it once it was possible to step out of it. I disliked traveling like this most of the time – I remember that it almost drove Nadir out of his mind once – but I have come used to it quickly, a necessary evil. The Seine wasn't something to be easily ignored.

With an elegant twirl, I removed my cape and let it fall on one of the many pieces of expensive furniture, turning my attention back to my young guest. I must say that it was pleasing to see her almost forget how to breathe at the sight of all the treasures – both artistic and real – in front of her.

"I have brought you to the seat of sweet music's throne." I told her, attracting her attention with ease. Even the most glamorous sight couldn't compare to the sound of my voice, it seemed. "You have come here for a single purpose, Christine. I need you," I was tempted to stop there – it was true, very true. "here with me, to sing… to sing my music. You will be my herald, just as you are my muse."

It would take her some time to comprehend what I was asking of her, but now, now when she was finally with me, the fascination and affection radiating from her was more than intoxicating for me.

Yet it was late, she was surely tired from her performance and still under my spells. Tomorrow seemed an eternity away, but now that I had my angel with me, I knew I would be able to wait. I had waited years… no, my entire life… for her. I could wait a few more hours.

Then I would tell her everything.

Not for the first time this night, I began approaching her carefully, resisting the urge to do something I would regret very soon with what I hoped was grace. Fear was unwanted tonight.

"Welcome to the world of night, my angel."