The Usual- i Don't own Phantom of the Opera and its characters except my OCs. Enjoy :)

The Red Rose with the Black Ribbon

The sky was a crimson rose in bloom laced with black streaks of the approaching night. The solitary red rose with the black ribbon tied around the elegant stem discarded onto the cold and snow covered stone floor. Erik attempted to forget the painful memories of the past, but failed; everything reminded him of her and her rejection.

It had been a busy day at the Opera Populaire. Last practice before their first opera since the restoration meant that everyone was determined for perfection. What didn't help was the disturbing news of a mutilated murder victim in the streets, found not far from the opera. From eavesdropping on the gossip,Erik heard that the killer had tortured the victim by before death before strangely killing him with a quick blow to the throat. Everyone was hysterical, and running around madly screaming like banshees especially the ballet girls. It was complete chaos, nevertheless practice still continued as normal, just prolonged.

Despite no one helping, the new stagehand managed quite well. Erik had observed the silent and stealthy young man fiddling around with the ropes and quickly getting the hang of it. He was surprisingly fast and quiet compared to the others who were like a stampede of elephants. It was unusual that everyone was avoiding him but he didn't seem to mind. He seemed quite happy to hide in the shadows ,observing everything and everyone like a hawk with his abnormally dark eye. He wore an eye patch over the left eye, probably in a an accident which would explain the scars. Young boys, so careless these days.

A black carriage stopped in front Opera Populaire, Erik glared at the figure with a look of hatred; that idiot Raoul was back. Yelling Christine's name, Raoul drunkly staggered into the Opera Populaire with a beer bottle in his hand. Luckily everyone had left and no body remained to witness the grouchy viscount's tantrum. Christine and Raoul both kept up the 'happy couple' image in front of everyone, but Raoul had recently started to drink quite heavily due to some unknown reason. He had been becoming increasingly violent and aggressive. Leaving the rooftop, Erik travelled as fast as possible through the labyrinth of secret passages to the mirror in Christine's room.

He could hear yelling and pleadings echo down the tunnel. The beer bottle smashed on the dressing table spraying sharp shrapnel everywhere. Erik could feel the rage within him build up as he watched Raoul storm drunkly out of the room. He tried to slide the mirror and he realised that there was a padlock on it. Madame Giry, she must have made sure he couldn't be part of her life anymore. He shook the mirror in frustration, there was no way into her room. The only thing he could do was watch.

He watched as his beloved Christine picked herself up from the floor, a red mark in a shape of a hand had begun to form on her angelic face. Tears were rolling down her cheek as she began to clean up the mess. Suddenly a shadow appeared at the door, it was the new stagehand. Surprised, Erik automatically moved away from the mirror, hoping that he didn't see anything. Christine looked up, surprised and nervous at the stranger at her door.

"I'm not stupid, I recognise your voice from last night. You're obviously very good at singing" the stranger said looking slightly amused. "Apparently the Viscount is your husband, very interesting..."

The rude smugness was clearly there in his voice, no sympathy or comfort at all.

"Azrael, not yet, I will tell you when" Christine replied choking on her tears.

"This is obviously one of those love gone wrong situations isn't it." Azrael said closing the door. "Very interesting..."

The insolent youth was really getting on Erik's nerves. Christine sighed and said no more, she continued to clean up the mess until she gasped in pain. Erik stared in horror as her beautiful hands were splintered by the glass.

Azrael rolled his eye and drew a small knife which was hidden inside his sleeve. Christine automatically shrank away from him, wide-eyed and scarred "What are you doing?"

"Splinters?" Azrael asked, nodding at her hands.

Christine nervously stretched out her hands. Azrael skillfully removed the glass splinters using the tip of the small knife and wordlessly cleaned up the mess on the floor.

"I didn't come here to be your cleaner. I came to warn you. Don't leave the opera tonight" Azrael ordered. "It's dangerous at night, in the streets"

"I have to return home, otherwise my husband..." Christine trailed off, looking very nervous at the thought of one of Raoul's temper tantrums

"Well you'd listen to me if you want to live for another day"

"Why do you care if I live or die?"

"You can't pay me if you're dead..."

"But I have to or else...you can walk me home!"

"Fine if I have to!" Azrael stopped suddenly and turned around, staring right at Erik. "Is someone behind that mirror?"

'Oh Bugger', Erik thought, quickly shrinking even further back.

"No, of course not, don't be insane!" Christine replied, quickly pushing Azrael out the door.

"Hmmm, very interesting" Azrael muttered. "Probably the phantom of the opera"

"Could you stop saying that please" Christine looked back at the mirror nervously, before leaving the Opera house with the mysterious young man.

Erik was confused and nervous. What is going on? Who was Azrael? How did he know Christine? Why does Christine have to pay him? Why is Christine in danger? Pondering over these questions, Erik walked through the labyrinth, keen to return to his lair.

Shortly after Azrael and Christine left, a bloodcurdling scream rang out through the night. It was a male voice but fear was clearly evident. It was close to the Opera, perhaps just outside. He heard the maniacal laugh of triumph as the killer savoured the agony felt by the victim. Erik shuddered at the spine-chilling sounds. The screams continued for an agonisingly long time. Then slowly and painfully died down to a horrible silence. Erik, paralyzed from shock, slowly recovered his movement and continued his way to his lair. That Azrael knew something about this, he knows something about the killer. The screams of the victim still echoed in Erik's mind and that night haunted him in his nightmares.

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