I found my storyline! It came back to me form the dark depths of my room! I have over 1000 hits YAY! Thanks to my reviewers, and here is another chap, though I'm figuring you already knew that….

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Chapter 8

Lies in Blood

Erik wanted to kill someone, more and more he felt the strong urges of bloodlust. His own blood hummed in his ears, and his eyes darted back and forth searching out his victim. He pulled the description he had been given into his thoughts, short, bearded, small beady eyes, richly dressed, usually walks Glasson Ave. around nine, and answers to the name Du Croix. This last bit of information perturbed Erik more than a little it meant he had to yell the name before attacking. Though he could possibly use this to his advantage, he could throw his voice and confuse the unfortunate fop more than anything, Erik preferred the silent killing and quick disappearance. It had been over a month since he had been to the De Changy mansion, and since then he had terrorized the area in and around Paris, trying desperately to exorcize the demons inside his head. He found it very therapeutic to expend his frustrations upon marked men. He had the person who used to fetch all his things for him receive mail. He received orders and money, and simply made the people listed disappear. It gave him a considerable income, his skills did not come cheap. He had one rule only, no women, no children. If he was called an assassin, so be it, but a monster, never again. It pleased him greatly so stalk about from dusk till dawn, doing as he pleased, never being seen. He was truly the phantom he has portrayed for so long. It was as if he really couldn't be seen. He even ventured out a few times when it was overcast and unusually dark for daylight hours. It gave him a freedom he never thought he could really have. He was however, completely alone. He would also never again be an angel, for anyone. Once he had saved a small girl from a terrible fate with three large drunk brutes, but he disappeared before she could even thank him. He was powerful and he liked it. He was drunk on his own power, much like he had been when in the service of the Shah of Persia, only the opium had been infinitely better. While he had indeed secured some at a gargantuan cost, it was nowhere near the quality of his previous holdings.

Now he held a small home outside of Paris. He had a few horses of his own, and employed the man he had used for so long, after the death of his wife, as a manservant. It wasn't anywhere near the extravagance of the Changy manor, but it suited him fine. It was of course, decorated at richly as his lair had been, he would tolerate nothing less, not after living in destitution, when in captivity. The house was out of the way and everyone thought the poor widower lived there alone. Erik even had a music room, but it went unused, he satiated the urges by spilling blood, and killed the memories with his sweet brown, honey-like bliss. He had successfully done the impossible, discovered life after, her, all he had to do was let his soul go, the body could do very well without it.

It amazed him how easily he had pulled this life together in such a short time. He planned to travel, to never come back, but he simply couldn't leave, and he didn't want to think about it too deeply. Behind his house, there was a small copse of trees, and Erik loved to walk about in them, until he had discovered the house beyond it. He had almost run into a pair of small children. He watched them from a safe distance for a short time. The girl and boy were exquisite, he had blond hair that Erik bet felt softer than silk and eyes bluer than the brightest sky, the girl was even better, she was a little dancer, she often pranced around the family veranda humming, her blond curls bouncing and flying. They looked to be twins about the age of eight. Then the brother, running in from the trees, began to tease the little girl.

"Meagan, you'll never be a dancer like mother."

"I will be a dancer, and I'll dance in Paris, I'll be the prima ballerina, and everyone will applaud me. All the lords and ladies will be vying for my attention at parties and I'll be famous." At that, the brother laughed and tripped his sister, as she tried to dance on her toes. He hadn't hurt her, just annoyed her. "Raoul! Stop it!"

Erik turned away suddenly, feeling to need to retch. The happy family could so easily be the one family he never wanted to see. He turned to leave them in peace, to forget they existed, but then the mother came out of the house. He heard her call to he children, to her beautiful son to stop tormenting his sister. The voice sounded familiar, he turned knowing full well it was the last thing he should do. She was jus as exquisite as her children were. She could have been a look alike for Chri…her, but for the blond curls she shared with her daughter. He watched in morbid fascination, as the family merely existed. He lived vicariously through them, for a while almost as addicted to them as he was to his opium. Then he began to see that their lives were not as perfect as they seemed: the girl was a little bit out of her mind, she occasionally forgot who she was, or what she was doing, it was very tragic. Her brother felt guilty, but tried to treat her like normal when she was normal, and the mother was obsessed with growing old alone, her husband was constantly traveling, and he worried about him, she was an ex-dancer, and was worried about her looks and not being desirable any longer. Even the most perfect looking families had skeletons in the closet, happiness was never truly attainable.

Coming back to the present Erik saw a likely candidate for his man strolling unsuspectingly down the dark street. From the shadow Erik called to the man quietly next to his ear. He flipped his head around to find nothing but darkness grasped ni his fingers. His eyes widened in fear as lasso slipped around his neck from behind him. The mans body was on the ground in an instant, and Erik drank in the moment, eyes closed simply absorbing the kill, just for a moment losing himself in the absolute pain the overcame him, and reveling in it. The pain of taking life relieved him of the pain in his soul.­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­

Later that night Erik sat in his "office" thinking and watching the stars come into view. Without thinking he started humming, nothing in particular, but still the magical noise was flowing out of him like a deep sigh. He felt light, he was flying, the world was far behind him. He was on his feet, the melody taking form, growing stronger. He was leaning against his large window letting the sound radiate from him, as is it would explode inside him if he didn't. Then he looked down, and the beauty perished on his lips. An all too familiar figure stalked up to his door. Erik raced down the stairs to warn his manservant to not let the nuisance in, but he was too late, he stood face to face once again with the Viscount De Changy.

"Save your arguments, he must come back with me."

"Nothing could make me go back there."

"I'm afraid she is dying, help me make he go peacefully."

There was naught but silence on the other side.

If you want to see her smile again don't show her your afraid………..