This fanfiction is a little different, I'll try to explain it, so no one is confused. First of all it's written by two people Shallots (me) and Sweet Coldkiss. The story is told from two character's alternating point of views, I will right one POV and Sweet Coldkiss will write the other. They are Erik (Shallots) and Meg (Sweet Coldkiss).

Sadly since we both have other accounts and are currently writing fics for them this one will only be updated once a week. (Sorry) But I guarantee it'll be worth it. Enjoy

I stood there, staring out towards the sea of people before me. Some talking and laughing amongst themselves, others shaking there heads in disapproval. Most of them shuddering at the sight of my unmasked face. Not the audience I had hoped for, but I suppose this is no ordinary performance. Far from it, this is The Phantom's last appearance. After tonight only stories of me shall remain. And what stories they will be. I cannot help but smile. I have been everything from a ghost to a magician, a man to a monster, a demon to an angel. An angel, that is surely the most ridiculous of the tales told about me. I am far from a beautiful, heavenly creature.

The hangman slid a rope over my head and around my neck. My list of crimes was read before the crowd. Murder and arson mostly, occasional theft but nothing to large.

A dark-haired girl at the front of my audience caught my eye. Her thick curls and porcelain skin reminded me of her. Of Christine Dia. I cast a smile her way. Her dark eyes widened with fear. I laughed to myself.

Ah Christine, I wondered where she was at that moment. If I was on her mind or if she knew I was going to hang tonight. Probably not, she was so caught up in her perfect little fairy tale world. She had always lacked a sense of reality, I suppose it was from her father's early death. But that's what makes her so perfect, her innocence. For years I spoke with her, teaching her to sing from the vaults of the opera house. To her I was nothing less than an angel. She never questioned me or feared the voice in the dark. Even when she found my true identity she showed no fear at the sight of me. Any revulsion she had showed was do to the monster I am but not in appearance. That is what she had told me.

The young women in the crowd retreated with a group of friends, away from the sense. I watched her fade into the distance just as I had Christine. I recall the night so clearly, my first kiss. With that she had proved such love for her fiance, I had to let her go. I now regret that decision, but that is over now. She placed the engagement ring in my hand, for a fleeting moment I thought she would stay. Instead she turned and walked away. I watched she and her lover disappear.

Shaking with anger I destroyed what had held me for so long. I shattered the mirrors within my dungeon and left the Opera Populaire that night. There was no use in staying, the music was gone.

Inside my heart my love and adoration towards Christine Daae was replaced with a quest for vengeance. An attempt to heal my pain. I wanted to bleed out the world and watch the entire time. Is that crazy? Perhaps, but I admit my sanity is long gone. And what led to my inevitable madness? Everyone, anyone I had ever been in contact with. All of those before, they cower at the sight of my deformity. Because of this face I was made a spectacle of, I was shunned, beaten and nearly killed on more than one occasion. I have lived all my life without love or acceptance. No one understands, no one listens, no one cares. The only person in this world to show me genuine kindness was Madame Giry.

Perhaps that is the reason I showed some mercy to her daughter when I finally returned to what was left of the opera house.

Funny, it's said that before you die your life flashes before your eyes. Perhaps it is because I am not yet dangling from the end of this rope but instead of a brilliant flash it is more like a dream. Or rather a nightmare of the past months, of what brought me here. Of what led to the capture and arrest of the Opera Populair's "ghost"...