Another candle died within the cavern deep benetath the opera house.

The lone fi
gure within the cavern
gazed jelaously at the now dark candle. Oh how he wished he could do as the cand
le had done and simply
die. His entire life had been one miserable day after another until there was no
thing left of the man and now
there only remained a phantom. A phantom of a genius who had once known love, bu
t know knew only
pain and regret. Erik looked out over the lake and tried to imagine what she was
doing at the moment. No doubt
enjoying her new life as the Vicomtesse Erik thought bitterly. The pain in his h
eart was still unbearable even
after two months. Had it really been two months since that night? thought Erik.
It seemed longer, like an
eternity had gone by since he had last heard her angelic voice. He had to stop t
hinking about her. He had to
accept that she was happy with her new life. A life with no darkness and only li
ght. A life with no Erik. He
observed the depressing state of his once beautiful home. The mob had made sure
that nothing was
salvagable, not even his magnificent organ. Not that it mattered since he had sw
orn to never touch another
instrument again. Without his muse, what was the point? Erik got up and moved ab
out the lair. Tattered paper
and sheet music lay scattered about the damp floor and the furniture was smashed
and splintered. He stepped
around what had once been a chair and entered his bedroom. The blood red sheets
that had once adorned his
bed were gone, stolen by the mob, so he sat upon the bare mattress. His eyes fou
nd the small figurene of a
monkey holding cymbols on the floor. It was one of the few things the mob had ov
erlooked. He reached out and
stroked its fur as music began to drift from it. As the tune echoed around the c
avern Erik began to sing along
softly, "Masquerade... Paper faces on Parade... Masquerade... Hide your face so
the world will never find you..."
As the music came to a conclusion tears leaked out of his eyes and he sank to th
e cold ground. "Oh Christine,"
he whispered her name softly as his whole body shook with sarrow. Through his so
bs he managed to make out
the sound of splashing water. Someone was entering the lair. Most likely the Gen
darmes coming to finish what
they had started the night of his opera. He slowly pulled himself up off the gro
und and onto the bed. He sat with
his back to the door and waited. He had no more reason to live and if they had c
ome to kill them then he would
not stop them. Surely death must be better than the pain he felt now every minut
e of every day. He heared
footsteps echo around the cavern and was surprised to hear only one set them. Su
rely no one would come after
the legendary Opera Ghost alone. Not unless they were complete fools. It didn't
matter though because he
had no intention of fighting back. He heard the person climb the steps and stop
in the doorway of the
bedroom. He heard the sharp intake of breath and realized that whoever it was pr
obably hadn't been expecting
to find him down here after what transpired on that night two months ago. Erik w
aited for the quick shot that
would end his suffering for good but it never came. After sitting there for a fu
ll minute Erik spoke up. "What are
you waiting for? Do it now! End my horrible excuse for a life and then leave!" E
rik heard the man breathe in
deeply and then exhale. The man finally said, "I'm not here to kill you monsiuer
. I need your help." Erik's entire
body tensed when he heard the man speak. He would recoginize that voice anywhere
. It was the voice of the
man that had ruined what little happiness he had ever known. It was the voice of
Raoul Viscount de Changy.