-Chapter 13

Disclaimer: For information here, please see previous chapter.

"It gets rather boring you know," I sighed indignantly, plucking a skull flower off the grey ground. "Having the exact same dream over and over for a two weeks straight since, well you know… when I saw him last…" A little tingling sensation ran down my spines, something I started to grow accustomed to. I can't say his name though, the results are truly disastrous. I bit my lip, it still hurt to think about that day… it's still so fresh in my mind, though it was weeks ago!

"My stubborn heart won't let go of him, Papa. It just won't move on! It seems content just creating images of him and drinking those for sustenance." This wasn't supposed to happen. If Erik would have just never entered my life would be… completely and horribly useless and dull. I starred gloomily at the skull flower, biting my lip until I drew blood. If I kept my concentration I could just faintly see the white mask that Erik adorned so menacingly…

"God curse it!" I yelled, ripping the flower up in to tiny pieces. How hard is it to forget! I do it all the time, with the simplest of things. "I wish we could just forget the bad times and remember the necessary things… like events, him…" But he's not a bad memory, I reminded myself mockingly. He's the thing you love so dearly. It hurt to think about this matter, but what could I do? I can't ignore these… feelings… but I can't give in to them either.

"Damn them both!" I shouted, loosing my nerve. I never swore in front of my father till just now and truth be told, I didn't care. "Enough with the silences! You are the only person I can trust right now! I just need you to help me!" I jumped to my feet, my face wet with tears. I wanted to burn these fields of endless death and bring my father back to life just to collapse into some one's arms I could trust. "I just need a friend in this world full of backstabbing bastards." I crumpled, unable to bear it any longer. I bundled closer to his statue, biting my lip to cease the tears. I could taste the bitter sweet satisfaction of the blood swirling around in my mouth, the tears gradually slowing.

"Papa, please answer me…" Even one word would brighten up this nightmare. "Of all the dreams to leave me to ponder about, I can't believe you'd leave me with your corpse."

Just one word… than everything would seem right somehow. Except that, this scene, although repeated once before, was familiar, I'm sure. I know I've been seen this before, if only my memory would save me! I traced the lines of his feet, the cold from the stone burning my hand.

Than it hit me.

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The keys of the organ rang with uncontrollable violence that shook the very foundation of the opera. Little specks of blood decorated the sheet music, a sacrifice of pain for release.

Sweat glistened on the edges of the mask, occasionally dripping to collide into the crimson liquid that soaked the helpless keys. The notes softened in their dark harmony to tell the bitter sweet tragedy that fell feebly to burden the already weighted shoulders of Erik.

Numb fingers beat the instrument until their owner fell to the floor to stare coldly at the ceiling. "I've had enough of your little games. It's not amusing anyone and you are hurting Christi…her. One of your own in the process!" He murmured, beautiful voice stained with anguish.

His fingers throbbed, a vein pulsed underneath the sweaty mask. With a determined cry, he threw the porcelain mask at the cave wall, it's shattered fragments bouncing here and there. "Is this what you wanted? A toy! Well, monsieur," he shot angrily at the ceiling. "It's about time you end this. This game has lost it's meaning and now I demand you take me out of this… this…" he thought for a moment, racking his brain for the perfect description.

Nothing horrible enough would come to mind. "Have I already died? Already passed as an unworthy atheist in your eyes and have thrown in to the bowels of hell? If not, it sure as hell feels like it!" 'it' echoed around the room, his empty voice a void for depression. "Free me… I can't do this by myself…" His tired eyes blurred in and out of focus till they closed all together.

"Mon dieu! Haven't you seen enough of this monster?" He breathed in slowly, the pain of his fingers coming back all together to tear at the nerves in his finger. He ignored their pleas and bit in to his lip until it bled. "Her love has killed me. I can never move on." He whispered, voice slipping into silence. His breathing slowed, eyelids wavering until they floated shut in to the blackness of his mind.

A beautiful woman, curling brown hair that shimmered in dim light, pale pink skin that shone over with glossy tears, a full mouth that whispered in a melodious voice that warmed even the most unspeakably coldest regions of his heart. "Christine…" he mouthed, failing to lift his hand to her tear stained face.

His entire body was numb with the cold, leaving him useless to stop the angel who graced his presence from leaving. Nausea flooded over him and he passed out with a final, pitiful moan of agony. He awoke later to a gut wrenching head ache and crusty, crimson fingers. A grim grin crossed his unmasked face as he sat up, looking for his missing counter part.

Torpidly, he reached beside him to grab his icy mask, only to find attached, a single parchment note. Green eyes popped open from their woozy stupor, mouth parted in an awe stricken gasp. "It was no dream! She was here… but why?" He lifted the note with a sense of excitement and dread. God forbid she would try and take her life again. No that can't be it. She promised me. He thought sadly, ripping through the wax seal.

Tell me you love me, perhaps? He brushed this thought away quickly, as if it had never entered his mind. He unfolded the damp parchment and read aloud to himself:

"Erik,

When you receive this note, do not be alarmed by my forwardness, but I will be dead." His spirit dropped in dull horror, yet his face remained ominous stone. "I knew this moment would come sooner or later, so I decided to leave you a little gift from the beyond. Now Erik, I've never really told you this and never really need to, it showed in every glance I gave you, but, you are one stubborn bastard." He smirked at the paper sarcastically. You always had a way with words Antoinette. "You really are, but I still loved you as if you were my brother. Now pay this letter heed, I'm not so incredibly blind that I Haven't noticed the way you react when I say Mlle. Daae's name. Twitchy, sorrowful, and twice as secretive. Also, I've noticed how she behaves when ever I bring you up. She loves you Erik, more than she felt with that De Changy fellow. Don't scoff at this either Monsieur Fantôme! She may think she is good at being sneaky about these things, but truth be told, she is barely an armature. My poor girl… No that I'm gone, I want you to go back to being her Angel of Music, the Phantom she loves so desperately. Don't you dare even think about ignoring me Monsieur! I can already see that sneer coming on, recevoir sur le. I won't have my Christine suffer all her life because you two can't see this simple truth. She is like my daughter Erik, treat her well. As you know, she is fragile and slightly thick headed. Like you, she won't except the truth unless it kills her first. You have to teach it to her slowly. Save her from De Changy. I have a feeling that she isn't the only object of his gluttonous desires. Partir now mon ami, whilst you still have the chance! Antoinette Giry."

The note fell out of his hand in to his lap as he rested his head on his knee. He shut his eyes, thinking furiously. He had cried every last tear he beheld, now was time to take action. After hearing this from his most trusted friend, he finally believed. An evil glint lit his eye, mischievous and familiar to his past of robbing terrified managers, sneaking up and scaring the ballet rats sort of glint.

This time, she would not escape the clutches of the Phantom of the Opera!

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It began to drizzle right before her funeral, the gray droplets floating down to streak the face of the teary eyed Mademoiselle Daae. A little tear escaped from their chocolate prisons as she gazed out the carriage window. "Don't cry, mon cheire.

Go ahead and be mad that I haven't updated all this time, and when I do it's just this little tiny thing. sighs I'll add longer entries later. hope you like it.