Welcome back you guys! Oh my goodness was it one crazy year or WHAT?! I'm home on summer break now- (crazy to think I started this page when I was in the seventh grade ((CRINGE) now here we are as a college student) - I took way too many credit hours this past year and changed my major on top of that haha BUT I digress…

Erik: "Can you stop rambling? I think they get it, you're ancient. Basically geriatric, can we get on with it now?"

Me: "Yes yes Erik. I will get on with it. Thank you for that. . .touching comment, really, it was very heartwarming. What I was ABOUT to say was that I am really leaning in writing not only Phantom now but also sharing with you all some original shorts of my own that have been locked away for ages. So go ahead and feel free to check those out (shameless plug)."

Erik: "I'm sorry but none of that sounded like it was in relation to what is going on here" *aggressive hand gestures

Me:" Rigghhhhttt. Erik, you might want to plug your ears . . . is he gone? Okay, good. So I wanted him gone because for today's short I'm going wayyyy more off the book's original description of Erik than any other description. This short will take place the evening following the events in the underground lair, in the event that Christine has chosen to stay with Erik and had he let her. So in this short Erik will be a little different than you have read him in my past shorts and so will Christine. Just a heads up."

Erik: "You know I can still hear you right? This really does very little and you whisper way too loud. An elephant could do a better job at keeping a secret."

Me: "Again, thank you Erik for such a truly heartfelt comment. . . ANYWAYS onto the short! Enjoy!"

-Darling

A run down apartment above a bar- The Same Evening

Christine starred numbly into the roaring fire burning in the hearth. The light was blinding, but she continued to gaze anyway. Her eyes burned until she thought she could feel the heat sinking through her corneas and into her brain. She was alone now. Something that had tortured her for a while previous to her existing moment in front of this fire. To be alone. Had she ever really been alone in the opera house, she wandered. It was quite possible that he had always been there. Peering and peaking at her around every corner and behind every wall.

She exhaled and felt her breath leave her chest. She wandered more about what it might be like to descend into the frigid lakeall to far from where she sat now. And to exhale all the air from her lungs. Only to sink. She thought how far it might go down, surly not deep enough to ever hide her away from him. There was nothing deep or dark enough to do that. Christine was tormented with the arguments she had inside her head. Should she be grateful to this man- this monster- who taught her and cradled her in her most desperate times? Or should she damn him for eternity for what he had done? She was unsure, somewhere inside her, she still had an affection for him.

The room she rested in was dimly lit and in need of many desperate repairs. The remnants of old wallpaper hung sadly off each wall, and the holes in each baseboard were evidence of where the local mice ran in and out of the walls. The furniture was antique and eaten through by rodents and pests. The only usable thing in the whole room really was the fireplace that lit Christine's face and body. She was still damp even after taking off most of the skirts and layers to the wedding dress. Now she sat covered by her slip, and wrapped in a blanket that Erik had put around her before they escaped his underground palace.

Footsteps approached from the narrow stairs outside of the apartment's door. Christine's stomach flipped and her heart began to race. She was never afraid of him, only afraid of what he might be capable of. The locks of the heavy door clicked open and through the darkness Erik entered quietly. He shut the door and locked it once again.

Silence.

After a few minutes, Christine wondered if maybe he had gone again. She couldn't even hear the sound of his breathing, only her heart beat pounding in her ears. She built up the courage to turn around and check through the darkness. Her eyes adjusted to the pitch black-ness that embodied the corners of the room she sat in. Even with a fire going, it was nowhere near big enough to light up every crevice of the rundown apartment.

Quietly she stood up. The splintered wooden floor boards were rough against her bare feet. A shiver ran down her spine and she hugged her arms to herself. She was not only cold, but uneasy. She had a pit in her stomach all night, that she didn't expect to be going away anytime soon. Slowly she started through the darkness to inspect the apartment around her. She was almost ghostly the way her silhouette showed in the darkness. The area that barely could be called a kitchen was close and bare. There stood only a simple table, and a small wood and empty wood burning stove.

Christine walked a few steps closer into the kitchen. A rat ran across the floor behind her and into the hallway. From the pitch black kitchen corner she heard a muffled heave. She inched closer.

"Hello?" her heart pounded through her chest

Another muffled cry.

Christine sat on the cold floor. "Please." She urged.

There was silence for a moment before a white mask looked up and through the darkness towards her. A skeletal hand reached out towards her and rested on the floor in front of her. He looked up to her.

"Erik is sorry."

"What? What did you say?"

"Erik is sorry. Erik is sorry. Very sorry."

Christine was shocked. Sorry?

"Erik? Is that your name?"

His hand retracted. A bloodied hand print now in its place. He held the sides of his head almost as if he was in pain. "Erik is sorry Chrisitine. Erik never meant for this to happen. No No, it wasn't supposed to happen like that. Erik is sorry."

"Erik." Christine mumbled out loud, mostly to herself. The sound of his name on her tongue. Almost like a poison that shouldn't have ever been there. But there was something so sweet about it.

"Erik." She said again, this time to him.

He didn't look up, only continued to repeat his montra over, like a prayer.

"Erik." She said his name again, this time with a sternness in her voice.

He froze, his head still down between his hands.

"Erik. Let me see your hand."

Nothing.

"Please, Erik."

Slowly his white mask showed through the darkness once again. He seemed shocked that his name had escaped her lips.

"Erik, please. Let me see your hand again."

He reached slowly out to her again with the same hand. There was a deep cut along the inside of his palm, probably from broken glass that had been on the floor of the lair by the lake.

"You're bleeding." Christine told him.

He said nothing. Only stared at her, holding his bloodied palm up. His eyes seemed like deep black holes behind his white mask. She couldn't tell if he was watching her. It seemed like maybe he wasn't even there, and instead she was holding the hand of a shell.

"You're bleeding Erik." She tried again. "Can I help you?"

"E-Erik -is bleeding." He responded. "Yes. You can."

I'm going to do this short in a few parts, probably 2 or 3! Let me know if there is anything you are hoping to see.