"Tell me," Erik whispered in her ear. Ella shook her head furiously. "You don't have to hide your past from me. I promise you, it won't change anything between us."

"I…I can't." Ella was so confused and torn. She felt so incomplete unless she was in Erik's embrace, but she was terrified of him at the same time. He had frightened her so badly when he struck her. She wanted to trust him, she really did, but her still stinging cheek was a reminder that she was truly alone in this world. But then his words were so caring, so apologetic. And in his eyes, she saw real regret. The stories cautioned everyone about his hypnotic voice, but Ella wasn't drawn by that. It was his eyes that captivated her, the emotion, the pain, the soulfulness that she saw in those deep green eyes.

Erik sighed then shifted so that he was kneeling before her. He took her hands in his before softly saying, "Ella, I need to tell you a story."

"Many years ago, in the French countryside, a baby boy was born. But he wasn't a regular boy; he was cursed with the face of a monster. His parents were horrified, and as a result, treated him little better than a beast."

Ella's eyes grew wide, realizing he was talking about himself. She tried to say something, but he kept right on going.

"Then when the boy was six years old, his parents saw their chance to rid themselves of their burden. A traveling fair, one that collected and displayed freaks, just so happened to pass right through their town. The boy's parents took him to the gypsies and sold him for practically nothing. They were just happy to have him off their hands. The gypsies threw the boy in a cage as his parents left. As he was screaming for mercy, begging for them to come back, they abandoned him. That was the last time he ever saw them."

"Oh Erik…"

"For years, he was trapped within the bars of that cage. For years, he was displayed as 'The Devil's Child' to jeering crowds. For years he was whipped and beaten by his captors as punishment for nothing more than being ugly. Then one day the show reached the outskirts of Paris and his misfortune ended for a time."

"You escaped?" Ella asked breathlessly.

Erik nodded. "Their last night in Paris, a group of ballerinas from the Opera Populaire came to see the freaks. A single dancer, a girl by the name of Antoinette, took pity on the boy. After his nightly beating, the boy finally cracked, and out of desperation, he killed his keeper. Antoinette helped him escape from the law by bringing the boy to the opera where she lived and hiding him in the tunnels beneath the theater."

"That's how you became the Phantom?"

"He taught himself to read, to write, and most importantly, how to use the tunnels to get around undetected. By listening and watching the musicians and singers above, he taught himself to sing and to play, and eventually to compose. He had always heard songs in his head, but now he could finally write them out. When those above began hearing him practicing at night, Antoinette convinced them it must be a ghost. The boy figured why not become a ghost? He already knew more about music than the current manager, he could make the Opera Populaire the greatest opera in the world. He began leaving notes, and when he wasn't obeyed, he'd create 'accidents' until the issue was corrected. He had become the Phantom."

Ella stared at him, her mouth hanging open, wondering how to respond. She whispered his name, but he placed his finger on her lips to silence her. "Let me finish," he instructed. "For a while this went on, until a young girl, just seven years old, came to the opera. She had just lost her father and she was devastated. He instantly picked up on her vocal talents so he tricked the girl. He told her that he was an Angel of Music sent by a father to teach her. She was so young and naïve, she believed him instantly. As she grew, he was her teacher and soon became her friend and confidant. He was so arrogant, so proud of his pupil, he pushed her to become Prima Donna. Through blackmail and sabotage, he helped her career flourish."

"Christine," Ella murmured.

"Eventually he realized he loved her and believed she felt the same. He revealed the truth to her, but she was horrified by his face. She ran off with her childhood sweetheart, a handsome Vicomte, leaving the Phantom. Alone and heartbroken, he swore he would never love again. But then another girl arrived. She seemed just as lost and confused as the last, and was just as talented. But this girl was different. She could see beyond the mask." Erik gave her a sad smile. "She could see the man was just like any other."

"Erik, oh Erik," Ella whispered. He wiped away a tear sliding down her cheek. She was crying for him, he realized in amazement. "I've suffered nothing compared to you," she cried, embracing him tightly.

"I'm sure that's not true," he replied gently. She shook her head before turning away. She softly began to sing.

"There was a time when men were kind
When their voices were soft
And their words inviting
There was a time when love was blind
And the world was a song
And the song was exciting
There was a time
Then it all went wrong
I dreamed a dream in times gone by
When hope was high
And life worth living
I dreamed that love would never die
I dreamed that God would be forgiving
Then I was young and unafraid
And dreams were made and used and wasted
There was no ransom to be paid"

"Tell me," Erik coaxed, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"I suppose I had a relatively childhood for a time," she began softly. "I can't really remember. It was my parents, my older brother, Tristan, and I. When I was four, my mother was to have another child. But something wasn't right. She died after having a still-born son. I barely remember her anymore. Not her face, nor her presence, not even the sound of her voice. All I know is that my father was never the same after that."

"The tigers come at night
With their voices soft as thunder
As they tear your hope apart
And they turn your dream to shame"

"From then on, I don't remember seeing him without a bottle. It was his way of coping I suppose. I didn't understand at the time. Before Mama died, I had always been his little girl, but once she was gone, he was a different man."

"He filled my days with endless wonder
He took my childhood in his stride"

Erik knew where this was going. He held Ella tightly, her head resting on his chest as she continued her tale. "Tristan was older and bigger than me, he always tried to protect me. But when my father was angry, and he was always angry, there was no stopping him. He would hit us if we got in his way, or if we displeased him, or we were just in the same room when he was in a bad mood."

"Mon Ange," he whispered. Erik could feel rage building deep within, an utter hatred for the man that dared to lay his hand on this delicate creature. He wasn't going to force Ella to tell any more, but like him, now that she had started, it was like a dam had broken and now there was a flood.

"Tristan knew one day that Papa would go too far. He always said when he was bigger, we were going to run away, far away where he could never find us or hurt us. One day, when I was twelve and he had just turned fourteen, he decided we couldn't stay any longer. We were to sneak out that very night. But Papa wasn't as drunk as we had thought and he caught us. He was so angry."

Ella suddenly buried her face in his jacket, and Erik could feel tears soaking the fabric, but he didn't care. "I tried to stop him," she sobbed. "I tried to stop him, but he was so much stronger than me. When he finally stopped, Tristan was so still. Papa said he was sorry when he finally sobered enough to realize what happened, but there was nothing we could do."

"For the next four years, I was alone. I couldn't escape, I had nowhere to go, but I lived in constant fear I would share my brother's fate. I rarely left my room, only at night long after my father was asleep to get food for myself, and even then I wasn't spared. I remained his target until one day, I realized he wasn't breathing. He had drunk himself to death." She looked up at him, tears streaming down her face. "You couldn't possibly understand how happy I was. My father was dead, but I was happy. What kind of despicable person does that make me?"

"He terrorized you for years," Erik replied softly. "It only made sense. You were glad the fear and the horror was over."

"But I found out my father's habit had left him deep and debt, and I was going to lose everything to pay it off. I had nothing. Then I found some very old letters that belonged to my mother. I learned that before she had married my father, that she had been a ballerina here, she had been friends with Madame Giry. Out of sheer desperation, I wrote the woman from whom all the letters came, begging her for help. She agreed to let me be a dancer out of the goodness of her heart, and finally, after all those years, my nightmare was finally over."

"But there are dreams that cannot be
And there are storms we cannot weather
I had a dream my life would be
So different from this hell I'm living
So different now from what it seemed
Now life has killed
The dream I dreamed."

"Practically my entire life was in that house. The only experience I had with people was in short bursts, then my father and brother. Until I came here, other than my brother, I had never had a single friend in my life. And then I met Meg, and I met you," Ella continued. "I was terrified of the world, afraid that everyone was like him."

"No," Erik whispered. "Not everyone's like that, Mon Ange. There are good people in this world. I promise you, no one will ever hurt you again."