There is a new story from me. The idea came to me when I started a phantom drawing myself. I hope you enjoy reading it and I'm looking forward to your comments and praises.

Your Petit Erik


Louise POV

I fell and fell. On and on and without end. Because I saw no end, I closed my eyes at some point. Suddenly a light caught my eye and I slowly opened my eyes. I realized that I was lying on something soft. So it had to be a bed. Above me stood a lady with a black dress. She had a stern but motherly look on her face.

"You are awake," she said to me.

I could only nod.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

I nodded.

"I'm fine at the moment. Where am I?", I asked, looking around.

"You are at the Opéra Garnier in Paris. I am Madame Giry. And what is your name?" she continued to ask, raising an eyebrow.

"Louise," I said.

"All right, Louise," Madame Giry said, "I will be back again shortly and you can tell me then where you are from."

I could only nod, for she was already out the door. I looked after her a little confused. Opéra Garnier and Madame Giry. If there's another opera ghost, I'm completely sure I'm going crazy.

Maybe I was actually going a little crazy, because a large, dark shadow briefly appeared in the mirror. A cold breeze blew in the room and made the flames of the candles flicker a little. All this happened only in a few seconds. After that, everything went back to the way it was before. Shortly after, Madame Giry came back to me. She sat down on a stool which was near a dressing table and looked at me.

"Well, Louise," she said, almost piercing me with her gaze, "where are you from?"

"From Germany," I replied, "from near Chemnitz. From a small village. I don't know how I got here, though."

"You mean you were just here?" asked Madame, raising her eyebrow again.

"I know it sounds strange but I really have no idea how I got here."

"All right. I think you'll get used to everything here in no time. Do you have any talents? Singing? Dancing?"

I shook my head.

"Drawing, more like. Different things. From tracing or tracing off. Nothing special," I waved it off.

Madame Giry looked rather surprised.

"Nothing special? That sounds great. We could actually use some new backdrops. Do you think you could draw them after you've recovered?"

I looked at her with wide eyes, unable to believe what I was hearing.

"Well...of course. I could draw them."

I couldn't even get out any sensible sentences from my amazement.

"Wonderful," Madame exclaimed delightedly, "I'll give you some time to rest. It is already very late. I have put fresh clothes on your chair."

"What time is it?" asked I.

"After 11 o'clock at night. It's time for you to rest and I need some sleep too," she said and I smiled.

"I wish you a good night, madame," I said.

She wished me the same and closed the door behind her. I closed my eyes and drifted off too.

Later that night I woke up to a sudden pain in my back. My eyes shot open and I bit my lip to keep from screaming because the pain was unbearable. On top of that, I suddenly saw a shadow in the room. I noticed how the floor-to-ceiling mirror, which was at the foot of my bed, suddenly slid open and someone stepped out. I involuntarily held my breath, although this increased the pain. The shadow went to the desk where my drawings were. From this angle I saw that the shadow was a man. As he leaned over the desk, I saw that he was wearing a mask that hid the right side of his face. He was apparently studying my portfolio of drawings with interest, and I could see that at one picture he paused for a moment. His eyes seemed to fill with something like admiration. I looked to him and saw that he was holding my tracing of the 4 apocalyptic horsemen by Albrecht Dürer. Indeed, this had taken a long time to complete but I was all the more proud of it. He carefully put it back in and looked at all the other pictures. Then suddenly he reached into his cloak, which I had only just noticed, and took out a sheet of parchment. He took the quill, which was on my table, scribbled on the sheet, slipped it into an envelope and put it on the table. Then he turned back to the mirror and left as quietly as he had come. I looked at the mirror, now closed again, and still could not believe what I had seen. It seemed that there was an opera ghost after all.


The next morning I felt a little better. The pain had subsided and I could finally focus on where exactly I was lying. I looked around my room. It was all nicely furnished, with everything you needed. There was a closet for clothes and a dresser to go with it, a desk with a chair, a dressing table with a small stool in front of it, plus a bed and a small couch. And especially the floor-to-ceiling mirror, which did not suggest anything unusual. I decided I'd had enough lying in my bed and was trying to sit up when suddenly an unexpected pain shot up my back. It came so suddenly that I couldn't help but let out a scream. At that moment, Madame Giry came rushing through the door.

"Louise? Are you all right?" she asked with a worried look on her face.

"No," I pressed through clenched teeth, "I can't get up."

Madame's expression became even more concerned.

"Wait please," she said, "I'll get someone, all right?"

I nodded my head and she left the room. A short time later, I heard her talking to someone outside my door.

"I need your help, Erik," she said.

"What happened? Is it about the girl from yesterday?"

I could hear Madame's gasp.

"How do you know about her?"

"I saw her last night."

"Erik, did you go through the mirror?"

"I couldn't help it. I was lured by her drawings. You ought to see them, Antoinette. They're magnificent."

I felt the blush come to my face at his praise.

"That's all well and good, Erik but we have to help her."

"All right."

The two of them came into my room and immediately I recognized the man. He came through the mirror that night. Again I noticed his mask. He was also wearing his cloak again. He nodded and smiled briefly at me and I returned it.

"I think it would help if one of us gave her an arm for support," Madame said.

The man, whose name was obviously Erik, knelt down next to me and held his arm next to my shoulder. I was a little shy.

"I don't want to hurt you, Monsieur", I said.

He gave a small smile.

"It's all right, Mademoiselle. You're not going to hurt me," he said.

"Okay," I echoed meekly.

I put my hand on his forearm, which he held out to me, and put my legs up. Then I swung my legs over the side of the bed and put my other hand on his hand. He tensed his muscles and slowly I pulled myself up against him. He supported me and finally I was sitting up in bed. I still remembered what happened last. An oxygen mask was put on me and I knew nothing more. But when I felt the pain in my back, I assumed that my screws and everything were now in my back. And it hurt like hell.

"How are you feeling?" Madame asked me.

"It hurts terribly," I pressed out.

"What actually happened?", Erik asked me this time.

He was kneeling in front of me, still holding my arm in a firm grip. I looked at him in response to his question. His eyes reflected clear concern. I sighed and looked down at my hands.

"Apparently, I think it's time I told you what happened."

July 4, 2018

"I woke up at 6:00 that morning. I got ready and put on a shirt for my surgery. I amusedly called it "my surgical gown." Soon after, 2 nurses came in and gave me a pill to calm me down. I took it and soon I was picked up by another orderly. He pushed me in my bed to the operating room and I felt a slight excitement. Then he left me with 2 nurses and wished me well. The nurses smiled at me and explained that everything would be fine. They put an oxygen mask on me and I fell into a deep sleep. The next thing I knew I woke up here," I concluded my speech.

Erik and Madame Giry looked at me in amazement.

"That all happened?" asked Erik.

I nodded.

"I think in my world right now I'm still in my anesthesia. But I know it's almost at the end."

They both nodded and I tried to lie back down. Erik jumped up and supported me. I thanked him with a smile and lay back down. Then I looked at Madame.

"Madame, do you think there are some more blankets somewhere because of my back?"

She pondered.

"I think so," she said, "would you like me to get some?"

"Yes, please," I said.

She nodded curtly and disappeared out the door. Erik looked at me.

"I've seen your drawings, Mademoiselle," he said, "they are wonderful."

I felt myself blush at the term 'Mademoiselle' despite my pain.

"You need not address me so politely, Monsieur," I said to him, "I am Louise."

With that, I held out my hand to him. He looked at it and took it. I thought at first that he was going to shake it but then I felt him leave a kiss on my knuckles. It felt like his lips were a little bigger but that didn't bother me because I still turned bright red again. He grinned slightly and straightened up.

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Louise. I'm Erik."

"The pleasure is all mine," I echoed with a grin.


He turned to my desk.

"What are all these wonderful drawings you've made?" he asked me.

"I did them all in my spare time," I said.

He turned to me with an astonished look on his face.

"All in your spare time?" he asked, and I nodded.

"Yes, all of it. It all started in elementary school when I had only seen the 4 apocalyptic horsemen briefly. Then they showed up again in 6th grade art class. When we were asked to draw a small section, I couldn't wait and asked my dad to print out the whole picture for me. As soon as he did, I started drawing. It became kind of an addiction. Although it's not there often, but when it comes, there's no stopping it. Same with the other pictures."

He looked at me.

"Do you mind if I look at them?"

"Of course not. Go ahead," I said.

An excited glint filled his eyes and he turned back to my portfolio of drawings. He picked them up and flipped through them. Then he took out the picture he had also looked at last night. He studied it with his eyes. Then he turned to me.

"How did you draw this picture?"

"Simple," I said, "I put tracing paper over it, stapled it down with paper clips, and started drawing."

He looked at me admiringly.

"How long did it take you?"

"I don't remember. The first picture I drew of it, I drew it in almost just 2 days. But this is what the picture looked like."

He grinned at that notion and I smiled at him. Then he looked at my other drawings.

He flipped through them and I could see amazement in his eyes. He looked at the different animals and buildings that were on the paper. He grinned slightly at my drawings of Petit Erik. In my world at the time, I had found a page on Instagram about Erik, but as a small character. I thought he was incredibly cute even then. As a result, I had printed out a few pictures and started drawing. Since then, I had drawn a few pictures and I love them to death. He held them up and looked at them.

"They remind me a little of myself," he said more to himself than to me.

"It's basically the same thing," I replied.

He whirled around to face me.

"What do you mean?" he asked, his eyes wide.

It seemed I had no choice but to explain how I knew the Phantom of the Opera.