Prolouge.

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Erik.::.

I'm going to do it. I have enough of this. I'll never love again, all my hope has been stolen from me. And all from what, that little fop? My heart yearns for me to go after her, but I know it won't be of any use, that Vicomte isn't her angel, but he isn't her demon either.

I'm a monster. I've killed, but I did it for her. Everything I did, was for her. And she left. Stabbed me in the back and betrayed me. I gave her my music, I gave her a voice, I gave her love. What more could I give her? And more importantly, what did her have, that I didn't.

A face.
He had a perfect face for her. I hate it. I want to hide and cower. And I had just gathered the courage to show her. She was terrified. No one would ever accept my face, they never had, and they never will. Par one woman.

The one woman who showed me kindness, as I was labeled the devil's child.
Antoinette Giry. The ballet director. She saved me from those gypsies, that circus, where I was beaten and made fun of for everything. She helped me become free.

Only now is it that I realize that I would have been better dead.
This curse I have, my face. No one will love me, and I will never be able to go into the light.

Well I've decided.
I hang the rope around my neck and are about to pull out the fair when I laugh.

How ironic is this.
All those innocent victims that died from me.
The same way,
My rope of terror.

I smile lightly.
This is the right choice it has to be.

I lift one leg up ready to kick.

Well, this is it.

I'll see you soon Christine.

Your angel will be watching.

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