Erik is NOT Dead (Phantom of the Opera one-shots)

The Lovely but Tragic Tale of a Monster and an Angel

Christine’s POV:

I walked down the dark streets and pulled my shawl closer to my body. Life had been something a kin to hell since Erik had released me about three days ago. Raoul never abused me. No, he was always kind. But it was his kindness which made it hell.

Never in the past three days had I been allowed to do something on my own. Raoul always did it for me. Now, he never dressed me or bathed me but had a maid help me. I tried to tell him I didn’t want help and didn’t need it.

But, he seemed to think that after the trouble and pain Erik had put he through I was completely incapable of doing anything. I was getting very tired of being treated like a child. Plus, he insisted that we marry soon.

I didn’t want to marry so soon. I wasn’t even eighteen. But, he insisted. He said that our marriage would help me become stable again. He seemed to think I was losing my mind because I had taken to staring out into the distance.

I wasn’t insane. No, I was simply thinking. Thinking about Erik. It had been during those times when I had realized many things about Erik. Things that softened my memory of him. Things that made me almost want to see him again.

That was why I was walking down the streets at that late hour. Raoul was asleep and I was looking for the Persian. He was a man that all the ballet rats feared but he knew where Erik was and might be able to give some advice to me.

I looked up at the flat where he lived and knocked lightly on the door. I had no idea if I was doing right but I wanted to see Erik again. I didn’t know why. I was so confused. So confused. When I had been under Erik’s spell everything had been hazy and I hated it. Raoul had been a way to fight that spell. I never realized what Erik would do.

I shivered a little and it started to rain as the Persian’s servant opened the door. Smiling faintly at him, I said,

“Monsieur, I need to speak with the Persian.” He shook his head and let me through the door.

“I am sorry, Mademoiselle, but he is unable to see you now. He is working right now. But, do step into the kitchen and have a glass of tea. You must be freezing.” He took my arm gently and led me to the kitchen in the back of the house.

A moment later I was sitting in front of the fire with a cup of tea. The servant said,

“My name is Darius and you are…?” I smiled and sipped on my tea.

“Christine.” He beamed and took a seat opposite me.

“A very pretty name, Mademoiselle. Is your business with the Daroga urgent?” I nodded rapidly. It was very urgent. Erik was an impulsive man and I had no idea if he was still alive even. Darius frowned and was about to speak when the doorbell rang again.

He sighed and stood up,

“Forgive me, Mademoiselle, I must see who it is. I shall return soon.” I nodded and he disappeared. It wasn’t long before the sound of voices drifted through the house. Whoever was at the door and Darius were arguing.

The voice sounded familiar but I couldn’t hear enough to place it. The arguing stopped after a little bit and Darius returned five minutes later, wiping sweat from his brow.

“My, my, that man was most persistent.” He sat down and refilled my tea cup and poured himself a glass of some liquor. I sipped on my tea and said,

“Darius, who was he?” The man shrugged and to a drink.

“Haven’t the slightest notion. He wouldn’t show his face and refused to be denied access to the Daroga.” He sighed and said,