A/N: Okay Phans, it's been a long, long time and before you attack me, I must take the next few sentences of your time to explain my hiatus of epic proportions. First of all, school started, and hence, my free time is gone. There is so much homework and prepping for my exams and all of this awful stuff that I hate and have to deal with.

Secondly, I dropped my laptop and my hardrive went to absolute Hell. I'm not kidding, I had to re-type this whole chapter, which was no freaking picnic! Anyway, I'm back and hopefully better, so please enjoy this chapter!

Chapter Eighteen: Tainted Beauty

I was again in a room similar to the ever-mysterious 'Waiting Room'. It was circular, as before, but the wallpaper was a dark, rich red, like someone slit their throat and grabbed a paintbrush. It was slapped on the walls as if someone was doing it with their last breath, which only furthered my suspicions, but I knew that my incredibly fertile imagination was most likely running away with me and I decided not to dwell on it too much.

The floors were not chipped black and white tiles anymore either; instead they were an expensive-looking mahogany wood, but then again, I wouldn't know what mahogany wood would look like, as I had never actually seen it before. Still, it was beautiful and I was almost afraid to walk on it. Hanging above was a chandelier like before, but it was not black anymore, instead in was strangely similar to the one hanging in the Opera house's extremely large theater, the one Erik would soon drop.

The one thing that was the same was that I was not alone.

It stood in against the wall, but it wasn't a beautiful, cyborg Thing, no, it was definitely a he. He was tall and broad, with a strong frame and a handsome face. Well, technically only half a handsome face, because I could only see half with the white mask. It took me two seconds to realize that it was Erik in the room.

He lifted his left hand to his mask that stood out against his otherwise extremely handsome face and for the briefest of moments, I thought for sure I'd get to see what his face looked like. This hope was short-live however, because when he actually removed the thin piece of porcelain hiding what made his life a living Hell, there was nothing there.

I kid you not, when he removed his mask, the left side of his face his perfectly fine and intact, not twisted or burned or scarred, just perfect and flawless, matching up with the right side.

A smile pulls on his lips and that's when my radar goes off a little bit; any common fool would know that the Phantom of the Opera doesn't smile without reason and just out of the blue like that, something was wrong, and I suspected Sycamore.

Dream-Erik-that-I-Really-Didn't-Trust, or just DEtIRDT as I named him, glided across the floor with his feet planted firmly on the floor, contrary to the other Things, but his movements still looked like a dance, effortless and beautiful.

I shook myself out of it, something was off, very, very off. I shook myself back to reality when DEtIRDT held his hand out to me, as if asking me to dance. I lowered my gaze to the floor as I blushed for some unknown reason and I nodded my head, taking a few tentative steps towards him before taking his hand.

He took it and placed his other gloved hand around my waist, pulling me around the dance floor. It was a graceless dance, mostly because I have two left feet, and it felt very wrong, only I didn't know why.

"Erik, I love to dance, really I do, but there's no music." I told him and for a second, the good-natured look on his face melted away to reveal a moment when I saw what was underneath, undeniable anger. It was scary, but in the next second, it was gone, just like that.

DEtIRDT nodded and the evil look faded away as he smiled, which felt quite fake indeed, and turned, waving his hand. Seconds later, beautiful music flooded into the room played by a violin and an organ. It came from everywhere, with no indication of any music-speakers at all or anything that was controlling it. It infiltrated my mind and dulled my senses, making me smile like an idiot and giggle a small bit.

It was like I was hopped up on medication once again and it felt absolutely and totally wonderful. DEtIRDT was so handsome and all I could see were his eyes, it just never occurred to me how dead and cold they looked, like he was a possessed corpse. He hadn't spoken yet, but I couldn't find the will in me to question why he remained quiet, I didn't mind, I just listened to the sound of the music and danced around in slow circles.

Everything was perfect, completely, one-hundred-percent perfect until...

"We have her, Mistress." It was these words that shattered the bubble of happiness I was dancing in. They came from DEtIRDT, and it wasn't in Real-Erik's beautiful, smooth voice, no these were spat out in a horrible, choked hissing noise that came from the 'man' in front of me.

I pulled away from it instantly, finding myself completely incapable of gracing the monstrous, evil imposter with a set gender. My face must've been disgusted for what ever it was, it attempted to calm me.

"Don't be afraid Per-Annika." That was all that it took, I whipped around, and raised a fist to punch it square in the jaw, but it caught my hand, twisting my arm around behind my back. I thrashed around but it only tightened its impossibly strong grip. I briefly wondered what it was and I knew that no Thing was this strong, this was something new, and Sycamore had it in her power.

My mouth fell open, screams ripping from my lungs as a hole in the expensive wood ground began to burn open, like acid was corroding it away. I tried to hold my ground as it pushed me towards the opening, intending to throw me in, but in a sudden burst of adrenaline, I was able to wrench myself from its grip.

My nails clawed at its face, making long scratches that bled sour, black blood. The blue eyes of Erik turned a deep, dark yellow as it howled in pain, flailing its arms around before it finally succeeded in its task.

I fell backwards, right into the opening in the wood floor, falling down, down, down forever.

I woke up screaming. It was loud and blood-curdling; so loud in fact, that I was shocked that I didn't go deaf from being exposed to it for so very long. I didn't care how loud I was, all I cared about was getting out all the fear and the pain that I felt when I saw Erik that way.

I knew then that if the Phantom of the Opera ever did show me his face, I wouldn't scream or be afraid, because I'd seen him without a deformity, and there was nothing more frightening than that terrible sight.

It was also then that I realized just why Erik even had a problem with his face; there was too much good in him, and the bad that made us human, had to go somewhere, so instead of settling in his soul, where most of the evil lay, it manifested in his face. I rationalized this in a matter of mere seconds, and while there was no evidence to prove it, I believed it whole-heartedly.

It was around seven seconds later when the man that I had been thinking about burst into the room. I knew that he shouldn't be running that fast, nd I would've told him to slow down, but another scream that I couldn't control was ripped from my lungs.

Erik stopped immediately and took a step back. Even more fear flashed through my crowded mind.

He thinks I'm afraid of him! I mentally shouted at myself and I forced myself to calm down enough to relax. Erik again began to edge forward and eventually, he sat down on the bed. I was shaking like crazy and tears were pouring out of my eyes, it was obvious that he wasn't used to giving another human comfort, so he didn't actually touch me, until...

I flipped when I looked up and saw him sitting in front of me with his white, half-face mask covering his deformed face, and I flipped in a good way. I didn't have time to think before my body reacted, jerking forward and throwing my arms around his neck, pulling him into a bone-crushing hug.

I don't know if Erik was ever hugged before, but he froze up like a statue, staying just as rigid. I wanted to reach up and tear off his mask, but I didn't; Erik was still the Opera Ghost, and I knew he would lose his shit if I did something he was not absolutely and totally ready for. I wasn't like Christine, I respected his boundaries, even in my post-nightmare freak-out.

"It was horrible, it was so horrible!" I sobbed but Erik remains still.

"What was?" He finally asked me and I shook my head, I couldn't tell him!

"I-I can't remember, I think it was something from before the Opera house, but I can't remember what." I lied effectively enough to get him to stop asking and drop the conversation entirely.

"I see." He merely said as he reached his pale hands behind his neck and wrenched himself from my shaky yet strong grasp. He put my hands by my sides and lightly pushed me so I was lying down again. I tugged the covers up to my chest and sighed as Erik stood up and left, without another word.

I was alone in the darkness, staring at the ceiling for the longest time, trying to go back to sleep.

I didn't know why I was so disappointed that he just up and went, I mean, the man was my captor after all, and yet lately, I'd been so happy when he would just talk to me. He allowed me to call him by his real name, and Christine didn't even know what it was, and he hadn't killed me yet.

I had to stop myself, thinking it over, it sounded like I had Stockholm syndrome, and yet, once again, I didn't care, I liked Erik a lot, more than a lot in fact.

Could I love him?

No, no it wasn't possible to love him, I just couldn't, he loved Christine, I was just some nut who happened to be stupid enough to try and purposely find him. Thinking about it only made me even more confused and I didn't want to think about it, so I rolled over and tried to calm my breathing and work out what was going on.

I didn't know what to think; everything was just so blurred, I didn't know up from down, left from right, my whole world was messed-up.

With the way I was acting, someone from the outside probably would infer I was in love anyway, but I couldn't accept that, and even if I did, it's not like he could ever love me back.

What Angel of Music would want a girl who couldn't even sing?