So many apologies. To make a very excruciating story short, I had school and life to take care of first before I could get back to my Phantom world. On that note, it was a week ago today that I got to see the Phantom on stage! The actor for Erik definitely broke my heart (even if he was a former Raoul...), but this was a definite push in getting my mind going again and even giving me fresh ideas. Anyway, you all probably want to read the story, so I'll quit rambling.

Not the longest, but that's what happens when you stop writing for months...

That and still getting over the shock of graduation. Meaning my time is open now so much more to writing!

Ahem, right, story. I'm done now, I swear.


Erik held a look of contempt at the younger man in front of him. He could be no more than thirty, but there were already patches of grey above his ears in his dark, dusty brown hair. He wore a long black robe, the only contrast was the tiny white collar tight around his neck and a grey satchel hanging over his right shoulder. Clutched in his left hand was a small, worn Bible, positioned close to his heart.

"Well, Father," Erik began, "welcome, welcome, how may I be of service to you?"

A corner of the priest's mouth fell as he looked at Erik with pitying eyes, "Please, do not belittle me or my purpose of visiting you to-"

"And what purpose might that be? Have you come to save my damned soul? To preach to me of how the Great Creator of this world only wishes the best for me? How He made me with a loving heart and the way my sins were paid for? Spare me the sermon, I know all that your church and God has to offer me, and I don't care for it."

"Please, I will ask this once of you or I will leave without one more thought about this place or the man it confines, be quiet and hear me out!"

Erik's chest swelled in anger and he felt a roar building in his throat, but eyeing the satchel by the man's waist stopped him. It had been so very long since he had had anything nurturing in his stomach…

"…All right."

The priest smiled slightly and walked closer, though cautiously, to the bars of Erik's cell. "I am Father Herne de Gaulle, and I am here on a mission of peace with you. Our church sends men out to help those that have come to such terrible predicaments in the world. I will not lie to you monsieur, there was no one who was really…willing, to visit you,"

"Then why did you decide to come, Monsieur de Gaulle?"

"I'm intrigued by you," Herne answered bluntly.

Erik's left brow rose and, tired of standing staring at this man, sat on the floor by his bars, his face turned so the right side could not be seen. "Are you now?" he asked wryly, "And just how does one such as myself intrigue you?"

Herne looked down at Erik a moment, then shocking the caged man, sat opposite him on the stone floor as well. Erik stared straight at the wall as he felt the priest's eyes looking over his profile, his breath held as he kept fighting within himself to not lash out again.

"What is your name?"

Erik chuckled darkly at the question, he lifted his head toward the ceiling and smiled, his eyes shut. "I am many things, monsieur: Opera Ghost, Phantom, Angel, Death's and the Devil's Child, I've heard 'What is that thing!' a number of times," He swallowed and looked back through the bars, "…Erik, it's Erik."

"That is all?"

"It was the only thing given to me freely, and not even by my own mother. No, I do not know my last half to my name…" Erik faded off sadly, his eyes returning to the floor as he laid against the wall.

Silence entered the corridor as free man and prisoner stared forward, lost in their thoughts. That was until, of course, that Erik's stomach decided to remind him that it had been empty for more than a week.

Erik lifted his head a bit to look at the priest, his pride thrown away for greater needs, "You said that you have food?"

"Yes," Herne said and reached into his satchel, pulling out a smaller bag and an animal skin flask. Erik's eyes flashed and he became aware at just how dry his throat and mouth felt when he saw Herne holding the flagon up to the bars. He snatched it greedily and tore off the stopper, guzzling the water. The cool liquid was a sweet, succulent nectar and it was a hard task to keep himself from draining the entire content in one moment. He was able to pull away though and licked the last remaining drops off his lips. He leaned his head back against the hard wall, holding the flask carefully to not spill one precious spot of water.

"Thank you," he mumbled, breathing unsteadily as he took another fast swig.

"It is no problem," Herne pulled out a fresh crust of bread and a wedge of cheese, murmuring something in a language that Erik could not understand before handing him the food.

Erik cocked his head from watching him mumble, "Are you… praying?" he asked him, tearing off a piece of the bread and chewing it slowly.

"In Latin, yes. Since you will not bless the food it is better than one of us does,"

Erik smirked at this man, this very strange priest. "You are a very amusing individual,"

"You would not be the first to tell me so," Herne glowered as Erik laughed at him. It was a good sensation to once again feel this way, and at the expense of someone so upright no less! And yet, Erik stopped as he continued eating and drinking, to laugh in a place such as this did not seem right.

"You did not answer me before, why is it that I intrigue you?"

"I want to know how you came to be,"

Erik smiled and replied sarcastically, "Monsieur, I would think how I 'came to be' would be something quite easy for any man to understand,"

"No!" Herne yelled a bit hotly, but his eyes were alight with excitement, "Underneath the Opera Populaire, how did you do it!"

Erik could have almost fallen over at the man's questioning. "You- you mean you came here because all you wanted to know was how I made my underground home?" This could not be so, this man was up to something else, he had to be.

Herne cleared his throat and calmed down, "My apologies, but I become a bit enthusiastic when it comes to how things work. The life of a priest and scientist you know," he smiled feebly.

"A scientist?" Erik was taken aback, but now he himself was intrigued, "I thought such things were not allowed in the church?"

"Well, I do not speak so openly about it in the congregation, but I have a number of chemicals and plants that I use for a number of things. In my private chambers I have Greek fire as opposed to oil, it's really quite useful."

Now this man intrigued Erik. "Should I ever live to be free again, you must show me,"

Herne's face dropped, "You will be out of here some day, the Lord will see to it,"

Erik grimaced and turned to fully face Herne, "The day the Lord helps me from a place like this is the day I acknowledge His love for me, and believe me on this priest, He does not. No loving God creates something like me, creates something so dark,"

"A person is not created dark, it is by choice,"

"But is it not God who promises to take care of us, to protect us? He did no such thing for me since I was born,"

Erik watched as the priest put his head down in thought, it appeared that he had finally stumbled the man of faith. Sadly for the Phantom's cynical thoughts, Herne's eyes became alight again as he pulled out more food to give to Erik, this time a wrapped up piece of meat. Erik was confused when the priest kept it out of distance and instead asked him, "You would like this?"

"Yes, anything you have to give I would like," Erik answered suspiciously.

"Tell me your life and I'll continue this treatment as many days as I can, agreed?"

Erik was silent, searching Herne's face. This man was more insane than himself. But still…

"My life… for food and water?"

"And whatever else I find to bring, is it a bargain?" the priest enticed him with the meat.

Erik snatched the food from his hand before he had a moment to blink. Like a wild cat he ripped at the meat, savoring the flavour. "It is a bargain, where would you like me to start?"