Erik's Past

Erik's pen stopped in midair and he turned round in his chair. His eyes darted quickly around his lair.

"What in the world was that?" he thought anxiously. "I thought I heard…" He shook his head.

"No…I must be dreaming," he thought with relief, "I must be dreaming…" He turned back to his sketches. He smiled with satisfaction and began to flip through them.

"This will be better than the last Opera," he muttered with happiness, "Even Garnier will never build one to match this."

He gently placed each sketch in a leather folder and when he was finished he returned to his organ. His fingers gently caressed each key and he raised his eyes to the rose. As he gazed upon the rose his thoughts turned to the girl in his dreams. He could picture her delicate figure kneeling on the floor of the house. As she came to his mind's eye, his heart felt a pang. He wanted to take away all of her pain…

He stood up and removed his green robe, placing it on a chair. As he made his way back to the bedroom, he laughed.

"How long has it been since I have heard an opera?" he thought in amusement, "I do miss the singing…even if many prima donnas are absolute toads!"

He picked up his gold silk vest and fingered the designs carefully. His thoughts then turned to loyal, beloved Madame Antoinette Giry. He was very grateful to the old, kind woman who helped him when he first made his presence known at the Opera.

"She was the only person kind to me…besides Nadir and Christine," he thought sadly, "At least they only people who were kind to me…out of both pity and care…not fear like Mademoiselle Larian."

He then put on the vest and picked up his black velvet jacket. As he put it around his shoulders he closed his eyes, sighed deeply, and remembered his mother, and his lonely, hard childhood. He had never shared his past with anyone before…not even Christine Daae, his Angel of Music and the love of his life.

June 5, 1860

"Get away from me, you wicked, horrible child!"

A young boy ran to his room and slammed and bolted the door. The boy wore a white mask over his face and a black dress suit. He was only six years old, but he was wiser and more intelligent than any scholar of his time.

The poor boy raised a trembling hand to his mask and gently took it off. As the mask fell to the ground, the boy's face was revealed. His face was horribly, horribly deformed. His entire skull was exposed beneath a thin, transparent membrane that was grotesquely riddled with fading, pulsing blue veins. His gray-blue eyes were sunken into their sockets and he had grossly malformed lips, and where his nose should have been, there was a large gaping hole. The mask, being too tight, had rubbed many places on his face raw. The boy put his face in his hands and began to sob.

"W-Why is M-Mama b-being so c-cruel?" he sobbed.

With effort he walked unsteadily to his cot. He sat down heavily and picked up his coarse, ragged pillow. He looked at it and began to cry uncontrollably into it. After a few moments the door to his attic room opened. He slowly looked up from his pillow and at the doorway there stood a woman. She had beautiful dark brown hair, ocean blue eyes, and ruby red lips. She was in her late twenties, but she felt, physically and mentally, as though she was fifty years old.

"M-Mama?" sniffed the boy. By now he had tossed the pillow aside and was staring intently at the woman.

"Yes, Erik." said the woman as gently as she could manage.

"M-Mama!" cried Erik running to his mother. He did not notice her look of disgust as he forced himself into her arms. She tentatively stroked his hair; wishing only that this moment would pass as quickly as it came.

"Mama…I'm sorry!" he sobbed, "I'm so sorry…"

"Hush now, Erik," said his mother as calmly as she was able, "I will forgive you…but you may never ask me about that again. Understood?"

Erik was as silent as the grave. He had finally stopped sobbing, and was now contemplating what he was just told.

"But, Mama," he said glancing up at her, "I just wanted two kisses…everyone else can have them. Wh-"

"You must not ask me that ever again!" cried his mother as she pushed him away, "You stupid child! You will obey me! You will never ask that again! Do you hear me?"

Erik backed against the wall and did not say anything. He had begun to sob again, quietly.

"Answer me!" shouted his mother.

At that moment the door was thrown open and another woman stepped angrily into the room. This woman looked very plain. She had brown hair pulled tightly into a bun. Her eyes had no sparkle or luster. She was his mother's dearest friend and advisor. Erik's mother and this woman had met at the convent where both attended school. Fortunately, although she did not have a beautiful exterior, this plain woman had a heart of gold... and a steel will.

"Madeline!" she cried, "What have you done to the poor boy?" Madeline did not answer but continued to stare hatefully at her son.

"Oh Erik!" cried the woman, "Come here…come with me. I'll make you some tea."

"Keep away from him, Diane," said Madeline icily, "he is my child and I will do what I wish with him."

"Madeline," pleaded Diane, "He has been through enough!"

"M-Mama…" whimpered Erik, "Can I k-know w-why I c-can't have t-two kisses…" At that Madeline took her son by the shoulders and shook him violently.

"Madeline, STOP!" screamed Diane, "STOP!"

"NO, Diane!" screamed Madeline, "He wants to know why…dammit he'll know why!"

Madeline then took her son by the collar and dragged him to her room. Once inside, she pushed him to the face of the mirror, the only one in the house.

"Look at it!" she hissed, "Look upon your face! Your horrible face! This is why you will never be the same as everyone else! You are a MONSTER!"

Erik stared horrified in front of the mirror. He had not heard a word his mother had said. Suddenly he let out a cry of rage and fear, and began to bang his fists on the mirror. Seeing her son like this, Madeline suddenly felt such great pity for him and guilt for her own actions. She threw her arms around Erik as he struggled to get free.

"Stop, Erik!" she cried desperately, "You are bleeding! Please stop!" Madeline tightened her grip on her son.

"Let go of me!" screamed Erik. He freed himself from his mother's grasp and pummeled the mirror ever harder. Madeline backed against the wall and sank to the ground, helplessly. She stared at Erik, frighteningly. "This child is insane…" she thought. At that moment, Diane burst into the room. She looked pathetically at Madeline, and motioned for her to help her son. Madeleine did not glance at Diane or Erik. She sat silently in the corner; her head in her hands. Diane shook her head and turned back to Erik. She closed her eyes and flinched in fear as she saw his face. But she plucked up her courage.

"Erik!" she cried as loudly as possible, "Erik, STOP!" She ran to the boy and pulled him into a tight embrace. Erik ̶ too exhausted to continue ̶ stopped struggling and began to sob in to Diane's shoulder.

"M-Mademo-iselle L-Larian!" he sobbed.

"Shh…Erik," cooed Diane, "Everything will be alright…" She was now rocking Erik back and forth, gently. After a few moments she remembered his poor hands.

"Erik, show me your hands, dear," cooed Diane gently. She turned Erik a bit so that she could have a closer look. She then gently took Erik's hands in hers. She gasped in surprise, for Erik's hands were covered with lacerations, pieces of glass, and blood. As she was examining his hands, Erik winced and whimpered in pain.

"Hush, Erik," she whispered gently, "You will be alright." She quickly turned to his mother.

"Get bandages, Madeline," she said icily, "now!" Madeline stared blankly at her friend, then stood up and went out the door.

When Madeline returned, she carried bandages, a bowl of water, and a soft towel. Madeline entered the room and saw Diane gently taking out the pieces of glass from her son's hands. She could see Erik wincing and whimpering in pain again. Diane looked up and motioned for her to bring the supplies to her. Madeline obliged and helped Diane dress her son's wounds.

Madeline had never felt guiltier in her entire life, until this moment. She lifted her eyes to her son and as she did so her guilty conscience was revealed as well. She and Erik made eye contact. He looked at her with his gray-blue eyes that were full of pity, pain, and love; she returned his stare with a look of guilt, sorrow, and a touch of love. Erik's eyes softened and Madeline hoped, against her will, that he had forgiven her.

Three Months Later…

Erik was panting heavily. Fear and loneliness filled his mind and heart.

"Where am I?" he thought, frightened. He had run away from home almost three weeks ago. He was so afraid and looked everywhere for shelter. As he ran blindly through the forests of France he remembered his last words to his mother…

"You never loved me!" he had cried as tears streamed down his face, "I never want to see you again! Adieu, Mother!"

He had then run out of the house, never to return. He had hated her deeply during that moment. Now as he frantically searched for a place to feel safe, he missed her more than ever.

"I'm sorry, Mama," he whispered to the wind, "I'm so sorry…"

In the distance, a large fire glowed brightly. He ran towards it with a purpose…the purpose to survive. He knew that he was on his own, now and forevermore.

1875, Fifteen Years Later…

For fifteen long years, Erik wandered through Europe looking for a place to call his own…and to find one who would love and care for him. When he was around seven years old, he finally ended up in Belgium. He then began working as a ventriloquist for a group of gypsies. Then when he reached the age of fifteen he traveled to Persia where he met Nadir, the head of the Persian police force. He was brought to the palace and the shah trained him in torture and murder. He learned to wield the Punjab Lasso, a noose, with more skill than any on this earth. He also became the main attraction for the shah's parties and for the princess, Jasminia. He would kill men ̶ many who wanted death or were to be executed ̶ to entertain the royal family. After a year, the princess became bored with his entertainment and framed him for murder.

He was to be executed the next day, but Nadir ̶ who had become his loyal friend ̶ helped him escape from death. Erik escaped when Nadir placed his clothes on the body of a hanged man; the body was badly mutilated on the face, giving the appearance of Erik's. When the palace guards came to Erik's quarters, they found the dead man in his place. Erik then returned to Belgium. During his time in Persia, he had become extremely vulnerable and easily succumbed to black, violent moods. When these moods occurred, Erik became extremely dangerous. He had killed more men than any executioner when experiencing these foul moods.

To send them away, he began to take morphine. He welcomed the shining needle with the greatest pleasure. It gave him a place to escape, it was a place where music would fully consume him and he would feel peace. He soon became dangerously addicted to it. Nadir was often frightened for his health. He knew the deadly effects of morphine addiction and he kept a constant eye on his friend.

Erik finally tired of Belgium and decided to return to his home country of France. Four months later, he found himself roaming the streets of Paris reminiscing on his past. When he reached the rural areas of the city, he was filled with emotion. He looked at the sight before him and silent tears fell beneath the mask. Although his childhood was desolate and spiritually challenging, he could not even imagine what these families had been through. He longed to help, but he knew that they would chase him away; urchins were very protective of their homes – what little there was – and they would chase him until they had a chance to kill. Soon, he could no longer bear to look so he continued down the cobblestone street.

As he turned onto the Rue Scribe side, his eyes widened in surprise; what he saw before him made his heart stop. Before him stood a large, beautiful marble building; it was half completed, for he could see the wooden skeleton of the far side of the building. He continued to stare mesmerized by the sight, then a voice from the building site yelled to him.

"Can I help you, Monsieur?"

Erik stared straight ahead as the dark shadow of a man approached him. Erik's heart began to race for he was afraid of what the man might think of the mask. Surely, word had reached Paris of the murders he had committed through the years. "The mysterious masked man who killed to please the insane, murderous need of the Persian princess, Jasminia."

The man finally reached the spot where Erik stood and he stopped in his tracks. This man was very young ̶ barely in his twenties; younger than himself ̶ with jet black hair, dark brown eyes, a tan complexion, and a warm smile. Erik stiffened and waited for the man to run away in fear. The man finally came to his senses, smiled, and offered Erik a hand. Taken aback, Erik looked between the extended hand and its owner. After a few moments, he tensely shook the man's hand; the man then asked,

"Can I help you with anything, Monsieur?"

Erik stared at the man, pondering what he should say. Suddenly, he asked,

"What is this building?"

"It is the new Paris Opera House, Monsieur," replied the man, "the Opera Populaire."

"What is your name, boy?" asked Erik curiously.

"Jacques, Monsieur," replied the man, "Jacques de Laoine."

"Enchante, M. Laoine," said Erik warmly. He liked this young man.

"Enchante, M. --?" asked Jacques curiously.

"Erik," replied Erik, "Erik Laroche."

"Enchante, M. Laroche," said Jacques, "and please, just call me Jacques. M. Laoine makes me sound as old as my father." He laughed heartily, and amazingly Erik laughed as well. This was the first time he laughed in many years.

Jacques then took Erik back to the building site where he met the architect of the Opera house, Charles Garnier. At first, Garnier was surprised at the sight of the mask, but he soon got used to the sight of it. As the months went by, after their first meeting, Garnier and Erik became very good friends. They would spend many hours together, drinking in Garnier's parlor, and they would discuss the plans for the Opera or the latest news in Paris. The Germans were beginning to rage war against the French government. In a panic, the government was gathering as much troops for the army as possible; this meant that money was being used to supply the army. Many Parisians were now starving, and were using desperate measures to survive. In the windows of the most beautiful shops they were now selling the meat of cats and dogs. Not many were too disgusted to buy and eat the meat to survive. Erik and Garnier were disgusted with the news and would not converse with those who would sink so low.

For many years, Erik had begged Garnier's permission to build his own section of the Opera house–underground. Then in June 1878, Erik earned Garnier's permission. Underneath the great towering building that stood like a beautiful marble giant in the light, one of Erik's greatest works began.

After many months of tireless designing and building, Erik's greatest architectural work was completed. Underneath the Opera Populaire, he had built a shrine ̶ hisshrine ̶ to music. There was a subterranean lake beneath the building and his lair was built on the farthest shore of the lake. It was unique in every possible way; the castle of his imagination where he planned to spend the rest of his life in solitude.

Erik's lair was illuminated with thousands of specifically placed candles ̶ they gave off sweet incense that filled the entire lair. The once bare rock walls were now covered with intricate carvings of gargoyles and roses that cast eerie shadows in the dim candlelight. In a small cavern on the left side of the lair, Erik placed a large antique desk; each drawer filled with blood-red ink, black quill pens, and the best pieces of parchment. Over the chair of the desk, his black silk cape was elegantly draped. The walls in this cavern were covered with numerous sketches of the Opera. In another cavern on the far right of the lair, Erik carved a flight of stone stairs. The flight led to a beautiful, somber room ̶ his bedroom. In the room, the walls were covered with black and red velvet curtains; a large bronze bed ̶ in the shape of a phoenix stood in the middle. The bed was covered in red velvet sheets and pillows. Above the bed a there hung a large golden ring. The ring was covered with large black lace curtains; they could be lowered by the pull of a tasseled rope nearby. Also near the bed, was a music box ̶ the most precious possession Erik carried with him.

The music box was quite unique. A monkey wearing Persian robes (to commemorate his dear friend, Nadir) played the cymbals. It sat on a beautiful barrel organ and played a jolly tune. Erik soon created the words to this tune; it goes something like this:

Masquerade, paper faces on parade

Masquerade, hide your face so the

World will never find

You…

In the center of the lair, there stood a beautiful brass organ. Erik had ferried it laboriously and patiently across his lake and played it often. He had also ferried all of his mother's furniture across the lake after her house was sold. She had gone to live with Mademoiselle Larian after her health began to fail. He also created a second bedroom in his humble abode, but he did not fully understand the reason why. In this bedroom, he placed his mother's bed and its own bathroom. The room was furnished with light pink curtains and vases filled with silk roses. Everything in the bathroom ̶ from the tub to the sink ̶ was made of pure rose colored marble.

Erik kept close friendships with Nadir, Garnier, and of course, Jacques de Laione. His friendship with Jacques was strong and before long, the two became very close. Erik, as any human would, needed clothes, food, and money which he could not obtain for fear of being discovered. So Jacques brought Erik all of his necessary needs, without any complications. The two men also told each other about their relationships and what they were working on. They trusted each other completely and when one was in trouble, the other was always there to help.

Erik lived peacefully and fully contented in his solitude for three years. He would make daily rounds around the Opera, checking all doors, chandeliers, and sets for flaws. One day, in 1881, he was sitting in his box ̶ Box Five ̶ when two young girls ̶ around the age of eighteen ̶ walked onto the stage. One was blonde ̶ he recognized her as Mme. Giry's daughter, Meg ̶ and the other was a brunette; she was the most beautiful woman Erik had ever seen. After a few moments, she began to sing.

Stars shine brightly in the night,

The moon smiles upon me,

Love surrounds you and me…

We dance in the moonlight,

You tell me good-bye…

Love shows me the way...

Erik was stunned. She sang beautifully, but had no spirit. This girl sang totally without feeling…it was as though she had no heart to sing…but with the proper guidance…no…he would not put himself in such a position; he would only be caused more pain. But soon enough, he fell deeply in love with Christine Daae, and would do anything to bring her to him.

Christine had been told stories ̶ by her father ̶ about an "Angel of Music" that would help her become une etolie, a star. Erik became that "Angel" and he began to teach Mademoiselle Daae. She did become a star, with his guidance, and he brought her to his secret lair, intending to keep her there…forever. When he brought her to the lair, he sang to her and showed her a beautiful wax model of herself. This model was dressed in a wedding dress he designed for her. Unfortunately, she fainted when she saw it and Erik gently laid her in the second bedroom. The next day ̶ in an act of insatiable curiosity ̶ Christine removed his mask. In a rage, he threw her to the ground and screamed at her. Then he angrily forced her too look at him, at his horrible, monstrosity of a face. He soon calmed, but he had frightened her deeply and she confided in her childhood sweetheart ̶ and patron of the Opera ̶ Vicomte Raoul de Chagny.

Raoul was a handsome, naïve young man. He was two years older than Christine with blonde hair that reached his broad shoulders. He had ocean blue eyes and a winning smile. He was also deeply in love with Christine, which was unknown to Erik, and would do anything to protect her. She told him everything…she told him about what she had seen while she was with Erik.

The night she told him everything, Raoul confessed his love for her; Christine also confessed that she had the same feelings for him. They kissed on the roof of the Opera, on the majestic roof of Erik's wonder; as the Phantom of the Opera watched in pained silence behind the giant statues that graced the rooftop. Christine had carried with her his rose ̶ a rose tied with a black ribbon ̶ when she and Raoul ascended onto the rooftop. Christine carried the symbol of Erik's love with her, and she threw it carelessly to the side as Raoul's charm overcame her.

After the couple left, Erik emerged from the shadows. He walked over to the place where the rose landed and gently plucked it from the ground. For a few moments, his grief kept him silent. When he could no longer hold back his emotion, he began a heartbreaking song.

I gave you my music…

Made your song take wing.

And now how you've repaid me…

Denied me and betrayed me…

He was bound to love you…

When he heard you sing!

Christine…

He cried as the sound of their voices carried through the open windows…

Say you'll share with me

One love, one lifetime…

Say the word and I will follow

You…

Share each day with me,

Each night, each morning…

Love me, that's all I ask

Of you…

The second declaration of their love sent a deadly dagger through Erik's fragile heart. He could not hold the immense amount of emotion this sent through him. Hate, revenge, and fear surged through his veins as he made his deadly vow.

You will curse the day you

Did not do…

ALL THAT THE PHANTOM ASKED

OF YOU!

He climbed to the top of the tallest statue and on the roof of the world he declared this vow. He would kill if necessary, now, to have Christine with him; Raoul de Changy had signed his own death warrant and sealed his fate.

Over the next few weeks, Erik worked ceaselessly and tirelessly on his maximum opus, the opera score that consumed his days, Don Juan Triumphant. This would be the ultimate trap for Christine. He would use this to lure Christine back to him, and it would be forever.

When the show began, Piangi –Carlotta's (the Prima Donna) husband ̶ was Don Juan. Christine played the innocent servant girl, Amnita. As the biggest musical number of the opera began, Piangi seemed to disappear and a new actor took his place. Christine's eyes widened in fear, this man was the Phantom of the Opera, Erik. As the show progressed, Erik tried to lure Christine with his voice, but she tricked him. As they met at the bridge, Erik confessed his true love to her and placed his sapphire ring on her wedding finger. He stared lovingly into her eyes, the caramel-colored eyes that made him breathless…

Say you'll share with me

One love, one lifetime…

Lead me, save me from my solitude…

Say you want me with you

Here beside you, now and forever…

Anywhere you go, let me go too…

Christine, that's all I ask of y-

In response, she gave him a look of pure guilt ̶ which he ignored ̶ and she ripped off the black mask. She dropped it by her side as she saw the hurt look in his gray-blue eyes. He looked at her with such sadness that she immediately wanted to throw herself off the bridge.

In Box Five, Raoul had looked on at the show with tears streaming down his face. The monster truly loved Christine…and she loves him? He pondered over this for a moment… until… something unimaginable occurred. He watched in horror as Erik grabbed Christine by the waist and fell through a trapdoor into darkness. The moment they disappeared, the grand chandelier in the house came crashing down! To save himself, Raoul jumped from the balcony, slid down a rope, and immediately ran to find Mme. Giry back stage. He knew that the old woman knew everything about Erik's whereabouts and in this time of chaos, he knew she would confess.

"Madame," Raoul began frantically, "where did Erik take her?"

Madame Giry was silent. She was unsure about telling this man who had broken the heart of her dear friend.

"Please, Madame," he pleaded, "I don't want to hurt him, but Christine means the world to me. Please tell me!" That last bit was a lie…if he found Erik he wanted to strangle him with his own bare hands!

"Alright, Monsieur," Mme. Giry sighed at last, "I will take you to him, but remember to keep your hand at the level of your eyes!" At that Mme. Giry and Raoul raced through the burning Opera to the cellars; to the entrance to Erik's underground world…

"This is far as I dare go, Monsieur," said Mme. Giry as they reached the first flight of stairs to the cellar. "Merci, Madame," breathed Raoul. His, Christine's, and Erik's fates would be decided…very soon…very soon indeed.

As Raoul descended to the unknown darkness, he was suddenly stopped by a strange man. This man was none other than Nadir ̶ one of Erik's closest friends. Nadir wore a traditional Persian cap, a dark brown cloak, and was wearing his best dress suit.

"Ah! Monsieur de Changy," he said sarcastically in his heavily accented French, "We meet at last." He took an intimidating step toward the Vicomte.

"W-who a-are you?" stuttered Raoul. Fear, cold and strong, gripped his heart.

"Why, I am the Persian," replied Nadir using the name he had been dubbed while at the Opera, "or, if you prefer, Nadir; at your service."

"What do you want from me?" asked Raoul. He was still unsure about what to make of this mysterious man.

"You want to find Erik," began the Persian, "and I know where he can be found."

"If you help me, Nadir," said Raoul uneasily, "What is your benefit? What will you receive from this bargain?"

"I only want to help you," said Nadir, "and I only want my friend to finally find happiness in the world." He was facing Raoul, but his voice sounded far-away and his glance distant. "Is there a problem with wanting that for one who has never known true happiness?"

"No," replied Raoul with some thought, "No not at all."

Erik was deep in thought. Tonight was the night…Christine would be with him forever. Nothing would stop him! His mask was still torn away and his corpse-like face was visible. A faint rustling noise near him caused him to turn. Christine stood before him in the wedding dress he had designed specifically for her. She looked magnificent; the dress became her in every way ̶ the skirts fell gracefully around her pale ankles, the silk sleeves fell gracefully around her white arms, and her caramel hair fell softly across her elegant shoulders. Erik was speechless, so Christine took this opportunity to insult him.

"Have you gorged yourself at last in your lust for blood?" she told him icily, "Am I now to be prey to your lust for flesh?" She glared at him so coldly that Erik felt a pang of guilt in his heart.

"That fate which condemns me, to wallow in blood," he began in the same icy tone, "has also denied me" ̶ his voice softened as he reached a tentative hand towards her ̶ "the joys of the flesh." In disgust, Christine turned her head ruefully away; thus, Erik's hand became entangled in her silky hair. He sighed and turned to the model next to him and took the veil from the model. He placed it upon Christine's head.

"It's this wretched face!" he cried, "It tears us apart; poisons our love."

"Erik…" Christine sighed, "It's not your face…it's…your soul that is truly distorted." She looked up at her mentor, her friend, and her Angel with a sad glance; she then gently placed the veil upon the organ. He was staring into the distance, contemplating her words. Were they to help him? Or were they to deeply insult him? He felt neither rage nor some small fleck of happiness. He turned to his Angel once again and did nothing but stare at her.

Then Erik and Christine heard a dull thud in the next room. A smirk crossed Erik's face. That room was always locked…and for good reason ̶ it was his torture chamber…

Raoul tightened his grip on the pistol in his hand. He searched desperately for the Persian in the darkness. They had walked through the many mazes of the Opera cellars to reach Erik's lair. They had jumped through a trapdoor into complete darkness and were now separated. Suddenly, a bright light illuminated the entire room. Raoul could now see the Persian who was directly in front of him; both of them turned there heads and gasped at what they saw. They were in the center of a room made entirely of mirrors. Nadir looked up and gestured for Raoul to do the same. What they saw was a small window; in the window they saw the shadows of Erik and Christine.

"Christine!" screamed Raoul before Nadir could tell him to do otherwise.

"Raoul!" growled Nadir as he pulled the frantic Vicomte toward him, "You idiot! Do you know what you've done! Now we're done for!" He shook his head, why in the world did he help the fop in the first place?

"Christine!" Raoul's frantic cry reached the ears of Erik and Christine. Erik's rage began to grow and Christine's hope blossomed. With a growl, Erik replaced his fallen with his white porcelain mask, flipped a switch on the wall and laughed cruelly as the torture chamber began to grow warmer and warmer.

"Ah! Bonjour, Vicomte!" he sneered through the window putting his ventriloquism to work, "So nice of you to join us. I was wondering if you'd ever arrive! "

In the chamber, Raoul and the Persian looked around blindly for the source of Erik's voice. It seemed to be everywhere at once; causing the two men to become even more anxious. They also noticed that it was getting warmer by the minute. Raoul sensed that Nadir was becoming increasingly nervous, but ignored it. He began to walk around, hastily looking for any way to escape from this prison of glass. But that was the reason Nadir was worried, the only way out of this nightmare…was through the ultimate crime…suicide.

Christine's fear returned with more force than before. Erik had just told her to make an impossible choice. To choose between himself or Raoul. If she chose Raoul, Raoul and whoever was with him would die a horrible death. If she chose Erik, she would marry him and Raoul would go free…but she could never see him again. Her heart was gripped with anger, frustration, sadness, terror, and lastly, love. Love for the two men she could never bear to choose between. She turned to Erik with a pleading, frightened look in her caramel colored eyes. When Erik's eyes met hers, he snickered; everything was going according to plan, soon her precious Raoul would be dead and he would receive his prize…the hand of his Angel. He could see the desperate look in her eyes and his heart softened a tiny bit.

"Now he will know what it is like…" Erik whispered almost inaudibly, "to have the one you love taken away…"

"W-What?" asked Christine softly, "Erik…I-" She stopped herself when she saw Erik turn to her. The look in his eyes would have reduced the strongest man to tears. Erik's grayish-blue eyes were brimming with tears he would not shed, for her sake, and the once mysterious, confident, safe looking eyes became lost, desolate, and desperate. She finally understood the magnitude of Erik's heartache and loneliness; she understood why he wanted her with him so badly, so much that he would even kill to have her with him…she finally knew what choice to make…

"Nadir!" Raoul's cry echoed through the mirror-lined room. The room had finally reached a temperature of about one hundred degrees and the men were pacing about it with their dress coats and jackets thrown carelessly to the side.

"What is it now, Monsieur Vicomte?" asked Nadir irritably; he was still mentally kicking himself for helping Raoul. He had been trying to find the small mechanism he knew would turn everything off, the switch that would save their lives.

"Have you found the switch yet?" was the unusually calm, distant reply. Raoul was now lying on his back, his look distant for his mind was elsewhere. Nadir turned sharply and his eyes widened in horror and understanding. He had caught the tone in which Raoul had answered and understood that the Vicomte was on the verge of madness. The stifling heat had finally gone to the fop's brain and if they didn't find a way out soon…the end was near for both of them…

A million thoughts were running through the head of Christine Daae as she slowly walked towards Erik.

"I must be insane," she thought angrily, "this man…this thing wants to kill Raoul and take me…" At that moment another voice, one with a more gentle tone, popped into her head.

"He loves you, Christine…more than I believe Raoul ever will. You are doing the right thing. You will save Raoul and you will be able to help Erik through this ordeal…He loves you more than life itself…" That last bit unnerved her a little so the first voice began to contradict the second.

"But what about me! What will we do in the clutches of that monster…" It let the thought trail. Christine had finally reached Erik's side.

"I must do this…for all our sakes," she thought confidently. Then she gently took the wedding veil from its place on the organ. She placed it upon her head and lowered the veil over her face. It was time…

Erik paced anxiously back and forth waiting for Christine's decision. He did not want to hurt her, he never wanted to; but he needed her so badly. He knew that he could not live without her; he would wither away through the tortured years…

He turned suddenly when he heard footsteps behind him. He was very surprised to see Christine approaching him with the veil covering her pale face. His breath left him as she stopped in front of him and placed her hands on his dress coat. He looked at her in total disbelief as she allowed him to lift the veil. He was shocked as he looked at her once flawless face; now there were dark circles underneath her eyes, her caramel eyes were red and bloodshot, and her face was streaked with the many tears she had shed the past few days. At once, Erik felt so guilty that his hands began to shake; causing Christine to grab them to stop the trembling of the veil. The feeling of her hands on his caused Erik to take a shuddering deep breath.

"Christine…" he whispered almost inaudibly.

"Erik…I finally understand…" she whispered in response, "Take me…teach me…"

Then she reached for Erik's mask and gently removed his hands when he tried to hold the mask in place. She stared into the monstrous face with nothing but love and pity in her eyes. Tears welled up in both of their eyes as their faces drew closer. When they were but a breath apart, they closed their eyes slowly. When their lips met in a passionate kiss, both tasted the salt of tears, but neither knew whose they were. The kiss intensified as the moments extended into an infinity. Christine raised her hand and placed it on Erik's sunken cheek and caressed it with love. Then they reluctantly parted and they held each other close. Erik placed his hand on Christine's soft cheek as a few more tears escaped from under his closed eyes. Christine gently wiped the tears away.

"Take me, Erik…" she whispered still breathless from the intensity of what they had shared.

"No…I cannot," he told her with sorrow, "You do not deserve a monster such as I…"

"But ̶" she looked him in the eye and stopped when she saw the expression present in his mysterious eyes.

"You have already given me all of the happiness I could have ever wanted…" he whispered with love. He meant it from the bottom of his heart and Christine saw the meaning in his eyes.

"Then what shall we do?" she leaned her head on his chest. She couldn't understand, she was ready to go with him, ready to leave Raoul, she had made her choice. She was unprepared when Erik painfully and sorrowfully uttered his response.

"You will return with the Vicomte…and marry him…"

Raoul and Nadir were now lying side by side on the burning floor of the torture chamber. Nadir had failed to find the switch and now he was at the verge of madness. Raoul was staring off into space, being as quiet as a mouse. He was daydreaming about his and Christine's wedding, knowing that he would not live to see it. Nadir was trying hard to not give into the madness, but he was making futile attempts. He began to see mirages of desert oasises and of food.

When both men believed that the end had come, suddenly a gigantic gust of cold air entered the chamber. Both men were rejuvenated instantly and gathered enough strength in a few minutes to jump to their feet and draw their guns. They instinctively pointed the weapons at the doorway where two shadows were barely visible. They were about to fire when a voice cried," NO!" The men frantically searched for the voice and finally rested their eyes upon the now advancing shadows. They were surprised to find Christine, who emerged first, unharmed and free from Erik's clutches. Raoul immediately ran to her and held her in a warm embrace. He felt her utter shuttering sobs and quickly questioned her. She did not answer but instead turned and walked back towards the shadows. Raoul tried to run after her but Nadir held him back with a firm grip. Raoul could only utter a cry of pure frustration as he saw Christine return with Erik. He was trailing behind her, his hand in hers, with tears coursing furiously down his sunken cheeks.

Christine stopped in front of Raoul and turned her attention back to Erik. "No…she's chosen the monster…" thought Raoul sadly. His heart-ached with sorrow and wanted nothing more then to strangle Erik where he stood! He watched in anger as Christine took Erik's hand and led him to her side. Seeing Erik's tears barely made a difference to him, it just made him more frustrated. He was shocked as he saw Christine grasp Erik's hand with conviction.

"Monsieur Vicomte," whispered Erik as he tried to stop the flow of his tears.

"Monster!" Raoul replied coldly. His hands tightened into fists and he prepared to strike Erik.

"Please forgive the circumstances in which you arrived," Erik whispered.

"Let her go, monster!" Raoul roared. He did not want to hear any of Erik's apologies; he only focused on trying to get Christine away.

"RAOUL!" Christine cried. Tears were now coursing down her cheeks as she continued to grasp Erik with all her might. She scowled at Raoul as he looked on with total shock.

"What has he done to you, Christine?" Raoul asked, "Have you forgotten where your heart truly belongs?" She turned him for a fleeting moment with a desperate look in her eyes. Then she turned her attention back to Erik. With tears in his eyes, Erik took Christine's hand in his and kissed it. He looked into her eyes, hoping that she knew that he would love her until the end of time. He then walked over to Raoul, with Christine trailing behind, and stared him in the eye.

"Monsieur Vicomte, your hand please," said he. Reluctantly, Raoul placed his hand in Erik's skeletal fingers. The fop shuddered at the deathly cold that lingered on Erik's fingers. He glared at Erik only wishing whatever came next happened quickly so that he could rescue Christine.

Erik took the hands of Raoul and Christine and closed them around each other. Christine and Raoul looked at each other in surprise then turned their gazes to Erik. They both felt the tears that were falling over their joined hands and knew they came from Erik.

"I never wanted to hurt you, Christine," he said, "You were the last person in the world I would harm."

"Erik…" she whispered, tears now falling from her eyes and joining Erik's tears.

"Since I can't give you away at a church, I will do it now." He smiled sadly at the couple, "Raoul, please take care of her. I would also be very glad if you would care to give me an invitation to the wedding. I collect invitations and such. I'm always invited but I can never go. Will you promise to come back, monsieur, to give me my invitation? And I wonder if it would also be permitted for me to kiss the bride on that occasion?" Raoul could only nod in agreement he would do anything to get Christine away from this monster.

"But Erik…" Christine began and stopped when she saw that Erik truly meant for her to go. Suddenly they all heard the distant sounds of drums and cries of "Track down this murder!" fear nestled in Erik's heart as he heard the voices get closer.

"Go! Go now!" Erik cried as he tore himself away from the couple and began to open the gate. He quickly ran to Nadir and told him to go through another secret passage that would lead him away from the Opera. Nadir quickly obliged, giving his friend a quick, curt nod before departing.

"Come, Christine, we must away!" cried Raoul. He desperately grabbed her hand and led her to the gondola.

"Swear to me now, never to tell," Erik begged them, "the secret you know of the Angel in Hell!" He would be killed if anyone knew that he was still alive. The voices were now merely a few yards away. "Go! Go now and leave me!" he cried. He then ran back into his bedroom and sobbed. Christine will never return and he would be alone forever. He turned to his music box; the only friend that had stayed with him through all the years. He wound it up and listened to the song. Soon enough he began to sing.

Masquerade, paper faces on parade

Masquerade, hide your face so the

World will never find

You…

By the end of the song, tears were streaming down his face. He heard a rustling noise near the door of his room and he turned to see Christine standing there. He quickly stood and tried to fix his dress coat. He dried his tears and walked up to her anxiously. She stared at him for a moment then lifted her hand, the hand that held his ring. She gently took off the ring while Erik looked on in disbelief. She glanced at the ring then kissed the dark blue sapphire; it always made her think of Erik's eyes…

She held out the ring to Erik, her other hand over her heart. He took the ring and her hand in his and gently pushed it back to her.

"No. You keep it. As my wedding gift to you…"

"Erik ̶"

"Please, my Angel, take it…it's yours…"

"Erik, I cannot except this. If I am to be Raoul's wife…then I cannot have something of yours." She spread her arms helplessly. "He would leave me and destroy the ring…and you…"

"But, Christine…"

"I'm so sorry…" She stared him in the eye, hoping he saw the meaning of her stare. He did. He knew what to do next. He took the ring from her and replaced it on his pinky finger. Then he looked deeply into her eyes, seeing her heart. For the last time, he confessed his love for Christine. He desperately wanted her to know that he would love her until the end of time.

Christine, I love you…

At that, Christine ran out of the room with her hands over her face. Erik's heart burned with sorrow as he saw Christine run away. He walked out of the room and watched the couple leave through the gate. His heart skipped a beat as he saw Raoul stop rowing the gondola, and kneeled next to his new bride. His heart pained him, more than words can express, as he saw his lips close over hers. As the gondola drifted out of sight, Erik could hear the voices of the police and other Opera staff coming closer to him. He ran to a giant mirror and broke it, revealing a secret passageway. He ran down the passageway hearing those from the Opera and the police destroy the only place he truly called home…

Many months after his last encounter with Raoul and Christine, Erik had finally rebuilt his mutilated home with Nadir's help. He anxiously awaited the day in which Christine would return to give him his wedding invitation. They never returned to the Opera Populaire…

Erik recalled all of his past and every time he saw Christine in his mind's eye, he felt a pang in his heart. She had hurt him deeply and he missed her so. Then his thoughts turned to the girl in his dreams. His heart also felt a pang when he saw her. She had so much pain…he could see it in every move she had made; he wanted to take away all of her pain. He felt so connected to her; as if they had met before and were meant to be together for all time. He felt as if he knew her heart…

He chased away all thoughts of the girl and Christine as he finished getting dressed, donning his black silk cape and fedora, and crossed the lake. He needed to pay someone a visit, his old friend, Jacques de Laoine.