Yep, don't own the Phantom otherwise I'd be swimming in my money right now (j/k). Just writing for the sheer enjoyment of writing; do I need any other reason:)
Short chapter (with a bit of flashback-ness) but I'm hoping to put another up pretty quick here to make up for it (as in sometime this weekend). Hope you like it!
Madame Giry walked tentatively down the dark, hidden stairs. In her arms, she held all the supplies she could manage to scrounge together as she made her way to Erik's home. Danielle Giry had continuously brought what she could to Erik for the past few months, certain that he would eat nothing otherwise. He'd once claimed to be a ghost but now he moved through the world more a specter than he'd ever been.
She thought back to the night of Erik's ill-fated opera; the show was glorious, having been touched by the hand of a master, but the repercussions were horrible and numerous:
After she'd led Raoul to the passageway, she'd paced back and forth in her room for what seemed hours until she embarked to follow after him only to meet both Raoul and Christine near her door. Raoul was white as a sheet but Christine had a fierce blush on her cheeks and was in an obvious state of distrait, lost in her thoughts. After a garbled explanation from Raoul occasionally softened by Christine's comments, Mme Giry dared to march deeper into the Phantom's lair than she had for ages. The sound of crashing glass had quickened her steps and she stared at the sight before her.
In a crumpled mess on the floor was Erik, surrounded by shards of mirrors. His clothes were wrinkled and dirty. His mask was left off to the side as tears diluted the blood on his cheeks. He looked around himself hopelessly: hundreds of piercing, pleading eyes stared back at him. He covered his face with bleeding hands, crying out without forming words, only anguish.
Transfixed, Mme Giry stared, unsure of how to approach him. With a shaking hand, he seized a piece of glass as his gaze shifted from the shard in one hand to his open palm. She never knew if he would ever complete the act but rushing forward, she knocked the piece from his hand and knelt down next to him, holding his head between her hands andforcing him to look up.
"Erik, look at me. Look at me!" He slowly brought his gaze to meet her own and she gasped. Such despair, such remorse, it was too much for one man to hold. With all the care his mother ought to have showed, she pulled his head to her shoulder and rocked him gently as he sobbed anew. Some time later, after both had exhausted their supply of tears, she led him by the hand away from his home.
The first two days were the most trying and he disappeared periodically. After a day's absence, he returned, half alive, and she took care of him best she could until he was restored to some degree of health, enough to enforce his demand that she stop babying him. He found a corpse, dressed it accordingly and announced through the newspaper that the Phantom of the Opera was no more.
Then, he'd retracted into an even deeper shell. Once he had disliked the world, now he shunned and avoided it. In this time he never touched his music and he rarely spoke, usually no more than a murmur of thanks unless he felt the need for a fiduciary and would utter an entire paragraph. He lost weight sporadically, not eating for days, but the wasting away of his spirit was more startling still.
After another month, he returned to his organ and the dark melodies echoed in those moments when the opera house fell silent. His moods fluctuated sharply; one day she came to visit and he was again a helpless child and another he raged for his disturbed solitude. Several times, Mme Giry had brought her supplies to find his home empty. The Phantom of the Opera was no more, but ghosts exist in many forms.
Her shoes clicked on the stone and she placed a loaf of bread and fresh fruit next to what she'd brought two days ago, worried to see it was untouched. She looked around briefly, only to discover that he was indeed gone. Sighing, she sent a silent prayer that he was safe, wherever he was.
∞†∞
Erik stared at Philippe with pragmatic skepticism and spoke with a jeer, "Are you sure about this?"
"Yes, yes. Don't worry about a thing."
"You're asking me to slice open my skin and you're telling me not to worry?"
"I suppose it does sound bad when you put it like that. Just trust me."
Forcing thoughts like this is ludicrous to the back of his mind, he looked at the dagger Philippe had produced. The burnished blade was decorated with ornate gothic designs near the hilt, black against the brilliant steel. The frosted handle was carved with a flowing script that ended in two small rubies on either side. Erik sighed, "I have nothing to lose."
"No time like the present. It has to be a full moon for this to work."
Erik took in a breath and exposed his wrist to the cold winter night. Gritting his teeth he drew the blade across his wrist. He let a few drops fall to the snow before he instinctively brought the gash to his mouth. Philippe spoke unintelligible words above him, an enchantment of sorts, and moon seemed to intensify its glow. Erik felt Philippe's hands on his shoulders and a strange surge of energy jolt from his head to his feet before he slowly lost his grip on consciousness and fell to the snow.
∞†∞
Authoress Rambling: I've been bogged down this week already (not all with school though, just busy) but let's hear it for the pick-me-up that is fanfiction!
Thank You so VERY much to reviewers!
MagickAlianne: -:sly grin:- maybe...maybe not... I have to say I really like Philippe. He's been a lot of fun to write. Thank you so much for being a faithful reviewer all around. Thank you!
tomluver123: I'm glad you liked it. That was one of my favorite lines, too. Thank you!
Neori: blushes aww...you're too sweet. :) This will DEFINITELY be E/C but it may take me a few chapters to get there. As for your other question, to be honest, I'm not exactly sure; I haven't decided. Really hope I don't fail you, with that kind of glowing review! Thank You!
TerpintineMind: Philippe's kinda strange but I think he's fun. And I promise I'll get to the E/C interaction hopefully in a chapter or two(Erik has to get used to his change first). I have their first re-meeting planned out...it's a little...unorthodox to say the least. -:smirk:- Thank you!
Secret: No ideas? Ah well, no worries :). The Angel of Writing paid me a visit the other day... Yeah, Erik might have been a little too open to the idea but a) vampires are very seductive creatures and b) it wasn't like he was doing anything better. Or at least those are my excuses. Maybe I'll try to clean it up a bit later...hmmm... Anyway, Thank You!
What's to come: Erik's first "taste" and we have to get Christine here somehow. :) Love it or hate it, please let me know what you think! it's that little button right down there...two seconds to make me eternally happy for now :)