AN: Guess what? I'm writing a new story! But don't worry, updates will come as often as they did before, so I'm going to be writing twice as fast. The sad part is that both stories are Kay based and that I'm not writing any Leroux stories. But that is of no consequence! Also, if you guys liked this story, you may or may not like the other one. I don't know. I'm not you. I'M NOT A MIND READER, OKAY?
Okay, so maybe I got a little crazy back there. Oh well; I'm just telling you that there is a new story up. It is called "Livre de Mort". Those of you who know what that means, good for you. Those of you who do not know French, you can look it up on Google Translate. I'm being mean and not telling you, so don't think that I'm going to in later chapters.
So anyway, this is the next chapter. I waited a few days before posting this so that you could have a chance to feel the full effects of the cliffhanger. I know that some of you were probably all like, "What happens next?" and "I hope sweet Erik's okay!" and "Who's this new guy?" and "&%%* &#%^". Okay, so probably not the last one, but you know what I mean.
Yeah, so this is a long author's note. Don't worry – this chapter is going to be longer than the others. That's right – this is a longer chapter than usual. By the way, if you don't like how the plot is coming along, please do not write anything nasty in the reviews. Nobody has yet, and I would like to keep it that way. Remember – nobody is forcing you to read this.
Sorry for the long wait! School started up, and you know what that does to someone...
...Signalling Chapter...
The alarmed man spun around. There, simply feet away, was a young man, around the age of fifteen. Erik's eyes went straight to the mask. The boy stood confused as he looked at the man who had trespassed into his home. They both stood quietly. Nobody dared breech the silencein the air.
Then, the boy spoke. "It appears you have read that wretched article and have come to mock me, Monsieur."
What? Why would I mock him? He wears that mask to hide his identity – it his he who is mocking me!
"However," continued the boy, "you have signed your own death warrant! I must kill you now that you know where I live."
How the boy could make the deadly statement sound so wonderful! His voice was rich and beautiful, much like Erik's hypnotizing one.
"Ah, but I am afraid that won't be possible."
"And why is that?"
"Like you, I am a murderer. I assure you that if I wished, you would have been dead by now."
The boy froze when he heard that. Regaining his senses, he replied, "Is that a threat?"
"Yes. I hardly bother making threats, though..."
"The same goes for me. But now, what brings you here?"
"Must you suspect that I am up to something?"
"Yes."
"Fine – why wear the mask?"
The boy shook with anger. Furiously, he whispered, "You want to know why I wear a mask, do you? Well, see for yourself!"
He flung off the mask. Erik blinked and saw it. Horrified, he closed his eyes. He wasn't disgusted. He was disturbed. The boy's face looked exactly like his own. The words he had spoken the year before came flooding back to him.
"I daresay there is some other poor soul with the same face as mine!" *
He had said that to Christine just one year before, and now he was face to face with the "poor soul" he had talked about. The thing about fate is that no matter how serious a situation is, it always quickly adds in irony to it. Harmless irony? No – cruel.
The boy maddened. "You, like so many others, thought you could handle the hideousness of my face! Look upon it! Look upon it! It will be the last thing you ever see in your wonderful life! The life denied to me! Look upon it! Look upon it, I say!"
Erik opened his cold, yellow eyes. His blood boiled – the boy thought his life was wonderful! The thought was quite hilarious and angering. In reply, he said quietly, "A wonderful life, Monsieur? I assure you my life was everything but!" He stealthily stepped to just inches away from the boy. Bending down so that his face was in front of the enraged, unmasked child, he reached to his mask and said, "Would you like me to remove this?" He questioned coldly.
The boy, upset, smirked, "It can hardly be worse than my own!"
"If you say so..." Erik untied the ribbons and dropped the mask. The boy stared, confused, at the man's face. "But...but...how? How is this possible?" He whispered.
The man hesitantly put his hand on the stunned boy's shoulder, not knowing if that was the right thing to do in the situation. ** Quietly, he remarked, "This is the second time a coincidence such as this has happened to me, I'm afraid."
The boy stared in shock. "There are... other people who look... like us?"
"No, thankfully. There was a young girl with the same face as a person I knew..."
"...and..?"
"... I fell in love."
"What happened?"
Erik's eyes darkened. Speaking of Christine was quite hard, as was his mother. Slowly, though, he continued, "She left and married a Comte."
"Oh."
"..."
"What are you doing here, then? There are no Comtes here, are there?"
"None. This is the town I grew up in."
"The story was true, then... Mother wasn't making it up..."
"Pardon?"
"Mother spoke of a... if you don't mind me saying, a monster... that looked like me living in the house on the edge of town. I thought she had made it up to spite me."
"A 'monster'? I've been called much worse all my life." That was true, yet it still stung to be looked upon as a member of something other than the human race.
Erik continued, "My mother didn't care to name – she gave the job to the priest. She was a heartless woman. I ran away when I was nine."
"To where?"
"Anywhere. These woods. It didn't matter at the time, but I realized only days later that I should've stayed..."
"Why?"
"Gypsies. They caught me and made me display my excuse for a face to a paying audience."
"How did you get away?"
"When I was twelve years, I killed a man for the first time."
"How come?"
"Do you really want that answered?"
"I suppose it was a rather dumb question..."
"Anyway, I wound up in Russia and got called away to serve the khanum in Persia." He spoke with utter disgust, "She had me entertain her with a variety of methods – illusions, torture, and murder."
The boy stared in horror. This man has been through all the tortures the world has to offer, and I? Have I been borne with his face destined to live through that?
Erik continued, "I was there for three years. Then, the shah decided I knew too much, and ordered me dead. I escaped with the help of a friend. I went to Paris and helped build the Opera House there, and when the construction was complete, I lived there for ten years. That was the time I fell in love – she was an angel. A truly heavenly voice. She let me train it. Then... the Vicomte came."
"But I thought she married the Comte?"
"Yes, she did. The Vicomte and her were childhood friends and decided to become engaged. Some time passed and the Comte was found on the banks of a lake, dead. That made the Vicomte the Comte. Does that make sense?"
"Yes, Monsieur."
"So, the two married. I had foolishly fallen in love with the girl, so I came here to destroy all my feelings for her. However, I doubt that will ever happen."
"How come?"
"How come? Why, I was in love with her! One does not fall sincerely in love with a lady and come out of a situation such as that and get over their feelings in a short time!"
"Oh..."
The conversation fell silent, and the two disfigured men let their thoughts drift.
* = Sadly, I do not have Kay's book for reference, and though I've been trying to look for it online, I have not found it. If you have the book, please comment the quote! Thank you!
** = You can just imagine Erik trying to comfort the boy. Laugh; I know you want to!