Hello everyone!

I look forward to hearing your feedback! I have just been adding some new elements to this chapter.

The way I see Erik is as a man who has suffered all his life and had never known love, but he has been willing to live all this time and he will live once again no matter how. In my story he gradually realises that he doesn't have to be intimidating and threatening to get what he wants. His vision of himself is skewed but he will try to live with it day after day not thinking about what could happen in the future. I depict him as someone who doesn't talk much but who is polite and well educated, however his temper will often get the best of him.

Enjoy & Review :)

Three days, three endless days since that terrible night when he had lost everything he had ever possessed… Had he ever possessed his beloved Christine at all. He had managed to run away from the deadly clamour of the mob, he had avoided the policemen, hiding in the filthiest and most insalubrious places of Paris. He had sat, crying for hours on a pile of rubbish. He felt filthy, old and disgusting, he just wanted to close his eyes for the last time and forget everything about this cruel world where he, obviously, had no place. But before, he wanted to see the opera house. He wanted to see how his madness had brought to ashes this exquisite place where the greatest ballets and operas had been performed for decades. People were moving away as he limped through the streets, trying to avoid as much as they could the stench arising from this beggar. He could have walked past policemen that they wouldn't have even thought about making a connection between him and the now wanted Opera Ghost.

Some posters where stuck on the walls, offering a reward for anyone able to find the dreaded disfigured man. A drawing was illustrating the bottom of the sheet; it seemed that the testimonies of his face made him even more of a monster than he was. On the illustration his nose was gone, his face was entirely disfigured and his skin was a mixture of falling flesh and exposed bone. It seemed that even with a half wretched face he couldn't get anything from his life on Earth, how would it be with a missing nose? Without it he wouldn't have been able to sing or to use his voice to seduce Christine… Perhaps it would have been for the best.

He shrugged his shoulder and continued to walk until he faced the charred building. Tears started to blur his vision and he managed to go to a more discrete corner before falling on his knees and sobbing loudly.

A few minutes later he felt a presence next to him, hopeful that it was death finally coming to give him his first and last embrace before sinking off to a dreamless sleep, he lifted his head. Dressed from head to toes in black it was not Death that was troubling him in his grief but the woman that had once saved him when he was a prisoner of the gipsies. Madame Giry was standing proudly next to him with a scowl on her face.

"You stink." She said calmly. "Come with me, we need to talk and I won't take no for an answer."

With those words she turned around, too astonished to react he watched her dark silhouette slip away. He managed to proceed what had just happened and ran to catch up with her pace. He followed her with a safe distance. They arrived in a grim street where she entered a little house. Closing the door behind her, he took a few moments to adjust to the dim lights of the candles. She was sitting by the table and waved him to take the sit in front of her. He didn't move.

"Well Erik, you look pitiful… Meg is running a bath for you upstairs, but first let's have a chat. Your madness has caused the death of Piangi and injured more than twenty people, what were you thinking? Obviously you were not… You were too obsessed with this child, she is but a child Erik, how could you have imagined a single second that she would answer positively to the dark passion you were showing her? It has never been question of your face Erik, I know you have suffered, more than a human being should in his entire life and death, but it is not an excuse! You are more than this wretched deformity, you're a genius, an architect, a musician, you're still young, you can even be charming when you're not too busy shouting at people or despising yourself… Life is far from over for you, that's why I decided to look for you. I once saved you, I hope that this time will make you realise that life is more than hatred and cruelty."

"But Madame, may I remind you that you were the one to bring her precious Vicomte to my lair, you have also betrayed me" He moved toward the dining table dangerously, with deadly bolts dancing in his green orbs. "You say you have saved me, it's true, but you have never tried to make me feel better or to stop me in my madness, why? Did you want me to do all those terrible things, did you want to see the sleeping monster wake up? I can tell you that he is very awake right now and also very angry, and that you're in his way."

"Oh god Erik, stop being dramatic, I am tired and I am not afraid by your empty threats" She spat. He didn't falter and continued.

"After all these years you should be able to see that I am not speaking lightly at the moment. I have lost everything and…"

"And whose fault is this? Mmmh?" She shouted as she suddenly stood from her chair. "I have warned you, I have told you countless time that you should stay away from her, you didn't listen to me, you yelled at me and told me that I was an old embittered woman. Do you remember? Yes, I may not have been as present as I used to when you came back broken from your travels, but I had built a life for myself and I had hoped you had too… I didn't know what to do with you, I already had a child of my own Erik. But I was there, as much as I could, and as you can see, I am still here. But I am angry at you, I want to hate you but I can't because I know that below the Phantom cold façade there's a broken heart that still beats frantically and that asks to be loved. I blame you but I don't want you to finish like your victims, hanging in the air, strangled by a rope… That's why you need to leave."

Erik was staring at her wide eyes, gradually getting the meaning of her words and realising the truth behind them. She let herself fall back on the chair and dramatically showed her surroundings by a wave of her hands.

"See where I live now? You have done that Erik, it's fortunate I had kept this little house from my late husband, but some of the musicians and chorus girls were not as lucky… I don't even know why I am helping you… Oh god, I must have been impacted by your madness… Anyway, if you have anything to say, say it, if not go upstairs, have a bath, shave, put on fresh clothes and leave Paris as soon as you can. Allez hop, hors de ma vue!"

Erik had kept his stare on the corner of the dusty carpet at his feet, avoiding the deadly gaze of the former ballet mistress. He felt like a child being being reprimanded by his mother. All the anger he had felt at her seemed to have faltered because, oh God it hurt... She was dreadfully right. He had nothing more to say and decided to comply and climbed up the stairs at once, he walked passed a trembling Meg cowered against the wall before entering the bathroom. He spotted a pile of clean clothes next to the bathtub, and on top of it: his mask.

When he reappeared in the dining room his was looking much better, but his eyes were still empty. It was as if his soul has left his body. Madame Giry nodded silently at his appearance, a slight wrinkle of concern on her forehead. She had seen his eyes and she was not sure he'd be able to start over… She stood up and said:

"This is your money, Meg found it before the mob. Jump in the first train that you can find and hide well. Identity controls are frequent, actually if you could find a way not to be inside the train it would be much better. I trust you'll find a way. Come on Erik, don't prove me that I was wrong to put my hope in you a second time. I want you to start to live on the surface, I want you to find a job! You have talent and as I told you no one cares about your face, may the lord help you to understand that… Now go, please."

He raised his gaze to look at her, he said hesitantly:

"Madame… Antoinette, I… I am sorry for never saying thank you, for never acknowledging your kindness or whatever it was that pushed you to help me... I will never be able to thank you enough… I can't take back what I have done but I can try not to do any more harm. Please keep the money, if I want to make a life for myself, which I am not yet sure I want, I will need to start from scratch… There's quite a big amount of money in this chest, use it to help those who have nowhere to go because of my madness, and use it for you and your daughter. I bid you farewell, I'll try to follow your advice but I… I am not sure… I'll try… I need to go."

On those words, he stormed out of the little house.

Any thoughts? Xx