A/N:I need some laughs so I am posting a story I wrote long ago and thought at the time was really good. Through the years I do believe I am improved and honed my craft a bit since the early days. For fun I am putting this story up in its raw form. Hack away at me I do it to myself every time I read one of my earlier works. There are others I'll be putting up before I post a serious story. Since they are for laughs I'll try to post each day or at least every other day. Have a good laugh and tell me what you think.

Death of a Phantom, Birth of Erik

Chapter One

Searching the Soul

Erik awoke to yet another day. Today would be the same as the routinely dull dreariness since he had left the opera house burning from his last glorious attempt to claim that which he thought should have been his.

With each passing day he felt his body and mind begin to heal in little increments. He felt his heart would forever remain shattered. No amount of time seemed long enough to ease the pain. Hours drifting slowly by like sand in an hour glass marked time until his end would near. One agonizing moment after another passed as he moved through his days without really absorbing much of what went on around him.

They say a person can die of a broken heart but no such relief came to Erik. As much as he would welcome the relief of death he still clung to this pitiful existence. Each day he hoped to move closer to his end but alas he seemed to grow stronger of body every day.

The constant ache in his chest that was the ache of his broken heart was so great it had to end his life. How could one survive with such constant reminders of an egregious loss day after day?

Three weeks have past since this slow death of spirit if not his body had began. The descent of his soul to hell had begun many years ago. The final push to the fires of hell had been his love for Christine and his wish to have what other men have. A love of a lifetime. A wife and a family. To live as a man and not a ghost. An apparition that lived five cellars down underneath the opera house in Paris held no appeal for him in the end. He wanted to not live as an animal burrowed deep within the earth. He wanted to live in the daylight as a man. To have a house of brick, wood and mortar. Not the hard cold walls of his home beneath The Paris Opera House.

Erik was such a pathetic creature he was ashamed to admit he could not remember his full name. He had been known for twenty years as The Opera Ghost or by some as The Phantom of the Opera. He had searched his memory and vaguely remembered when Nadir had called him Erik. He could not remember any last name. When asked by Father Joshua what he should call him he picked a name from a book he held in his hand. Marcus. He left all his former identities in Paris. He was no ghost or phantom. He was no longer even Erik. He was simply Marcus.

The ghostly figure who haunted the opera house was but a poor tortured soul left too long alone without a true connection to the world and the other human inhabitants. A soul twisted with love and jealousy for a young woman who had stolen the heart of this tortured and lonely man. He had sold his soul to the devil trying to win her.

He tried not to think of the night three weeks ago. To think of it was to feel the searing pain of loss. The loss of Christine and the loss of his home. The end of his world. Nearly the end of his life. Although who would mourn the loss of one monster from this world? Not one among many would miss him. Not one tear would be shed for his demise. If he had not alienated Madame Giry entirely she may feel a moment of sorrow at his passing. Perhaps Little Meg Giry might also have a kind thought for him.

Little Meg Giry. If not for her bravery when following him in the tunnels he may well have given into the call of the darkness. Meg had brought him here to this monastery to heal in mind and soul. He had cared for nothing. In his agony he only wanted to die. To ease this horrible twisting in his soul, which never eased. Christine had left him a broken and grieving man. Grieving for a love he would never have. A life he could never live as others did.

Perhaps he only got out of life what he deserved. His sins were many. It was true many had sinned against him but his were by far the greater evil. He would have done anything to have Christine. In the end his ultimate sin of murder had gained him nothing but Christine's pity while earning his rival Raoul's scorn and hatred.

Meg had told him that Christine loved him and would not want him to die. Her love was not the love of a woman for a man but as the man who had sacrificed so much for her. He had taught her and comforted her all her years at the opera. From the first night he had come to her and sang the poor grieving child to sleep. She would want him to find a life for himself and find peace and happiness.

As they had crawled out of the tunnel Meg had left him to find her mother. Bringing Madame to help her it had been decided to take him out of Paris far away from Christine and temptation. Antoinette had given Meg the directions and a letter to give to Father Joshua when she arrived.

With one last good-bye Meg had left him in the hands of the priests. If Erik had any interest in life he would have scoffed at being placed in the care of such Godly men when his own soul had been black as sin from the time of his birth he had always thought.

The agony of his nightmares for the sins he had committed haunted his sleep. For years his nightmares had been of the torture he suffered at the hands of his mother then later at the hands of the cruel Gypsies. In later years his nightmares were filled with the faces of his victims in Persia. The faces of his victims came to him the moment he closed his eyes. They asked questions he had no clear answers for. How does one tell someone that they lost their life because he was insane with envy or pride, love and jealousy? How do you justify creating torture chambers for the slaughter of both the guilty and the innocent? He no longer allowed himself to think of that twisted evil ruler in Persia. The son had been bad enough but the mother had more darkness in her soul than Erik ever had even at his most insane moments.

Luckily the fire had not caused as much damage as it could have. The trap that the Vicomte Raoul de Chagny had set for him had almost succeeded. The gendarmes had been ready to shoot him on sight at the sign from Christine. The fire brigade had been on standby due to the fact that the house had been full that night. The hundreds of theatre goers and opera house employees numbered in the thousands. Every man had been called in that night. Erik had wondered that night if he should have been flattered by the hundred or more men chomping at the bit for his blood.

Erik had not been as clever as he thought he was. Father Joshua had told him there would be no need for false identities within the walls of this holy place. When asked how Father Joshua had known, the man had laughed then calmly stated, he was a man of the cloth which blinded him to the sins of others to be judged not by him but God but it did not make him deaf or blind to gossip or newspapers. Somewhat shamed for this subterfuge Erik dropped his newly acquired name. He still had no surname but Father Joshua said they would think on the problem together. Something would come to them if it was God's will.

Erik had asked Father Joshua to forgive him for all he had done. His sins were many. More than he cared to remember. Father Joshua told Erik that his forgiveness would come from God if in his heart he was truly repentant for his misdeeds. All he could do was help guide Erik on his path to forgiveness. Forgiveness was not a lowly priest's purpose. Only the Supreme Being had that power. If one asked forgiveness with a truth and conviction in their heart it would be granted. Every man who repented was granted entrance into heaven. God knew what was in the hearts of man. God would know if one were not truly repentant.

The guilt of Erik's crimes would haunt him to some degree for the rest of his life. He hoped for a very short life. This pain was too great to suffer for a long lifetime. He felt as if he had suffered since the moment he took his first breath. He knew for certain his mother wished him to feel pain. She had hated him. Her dearest wish was for him to die in infancy. To her sorrow he had been a remarkably healthy baby. His mind was that of a true genius. His intellect frightened her. She thought because he was so advanced he must be possessed of some evil. His horrid face only compounded her fears.

Erik saw the pain on the faces of the people who came to the monastery, the poor farmers and townspeople from the area. Many were ill and came for what comfort the priests could give them. Others came for food and shelter just as he had. All came for the peace found within the walls of this holy place. A peace Erik had never had in all his years on this earth.

Sighing tiredly he got out of bed not wanting to think anymore. The haunting screams of the people in the opera house chased away his ability to sleep for more than a couple of hours a night. This night was no exception. Having lain awake for many hours he decided it was time to part company with his unwelcoming bed. Sleep being an elusive commodity he made the decision to put an end to the tortuous tossing and turning and find the relief he sought in the new day. Hopefully his thoughts would be free of his recent tragedy. To think brought on fresh wounds in his heart that bleed with each tortured memory. The pain in his chest had become so terrible as to feel as if a hand had reached into his very chest squeezing tightly. The guilt of his misdeeds felt like a ton of bricks lay on his chest.

He needed the sun on his face. A healing warmth and brightness he had been denied for much of his life. Darkness had been the comforting blanket that hid his deformed face from the cruel stares and shrieks of the frightened populace. The darkness had always wrapped around him like the comforting arms of a loved one.

In the weeks since Erik had been here he had not worn the mask. Father Joshua had persuaded him to let his skin breathe. The many open sores were beginning to heal. The mask irritated his skin as it rubbed against his flesh constantly. The sweat and constant rubbing caused the skin to break out in rashes and sores. The oozing had never stopped in all the years he lived under the opera house. He could count on one hand the number of days he had been without his mask. It had become such a source of comfort over the years he could barely stand to be without it. As much as he hated it at the same time he needed it to feel secure. Without it he was poor pathetic Erik. When he wore it he was the powerful and commanding Phantom of the Opera. The Opera Ghost. Feared by all.

He needed to work with his hands. His music was no longer the mistress of his mind and soul. He no longer felt the lure of its loving embrace in his soul. Not one note of his beloved companion flowed from his fingers. The physical labor working in the garden kept Erik's mind busy and his body fit while keeping him from pondering his loss to often. Those first days he had felt the abandonment of his music acutely.

He wished he could find something that would remove the memory of Christine from his mind so he could sleep without having to relive watching her leave with Raoul. At times he wanted to take a knife and cut the memories out. Rid himself of the haunting recollections of the one person he had taken a chance to open his heart to only to be betrayed and exposed in front of all of Paris as a deformed monster. Less than human had been how they perceived him. At times he still prayed for death. A prayer as yet unanswered. He was too much of a coward to take his own life so he lived on with never-ending ache.

Erik hadn't died as he wanted. Another wish denied him in a long life of things denied first to the child then the man behind the mask. His miserable sorrowful life continued. He had to find a way to live with what he had done and learn how to be alone again. For so many years his whole focus had been Christine and his music. Now he was without both. No notes danced across his mind. His fingers didn't ache to play the music that had sustained him for so many years.

He asked himself what more he could have done to make Christine love him. He had taught her how to make her voice soar to heaven to equal the angels. He had given Madame financial aid so Christine would not want for anything. He had comforted her in her grief for her father.

His temper had always frightened her. He never meant the mean things he said when his anger got the best of his good sense. He had frightened her and caused her to turn away from him to another. Erik's anger at the world had boiled over inside him when he learned that Christine loved Raoul. He now knew that his obsession with Christine and his music had driven him to the point of insanity. His love had been so strong and demanding it had blocked all reason from his mind. Because he had no other thing in his life, no other way to express his emotions he put the entire range of emotions he was feeling into the two things he loved most. His music and Christine.

He didn't know if he could ever atone for what he had done, but he would try. Erik did all that the priests asked of him. He helped wherever he was needed. He toiled within the walls of the monastery doing all that was required of him. No task was too trivial or too demeaning.

Gradually as time passed Erik began to accept that he could not change the past. He could only ask for forgiveness and do the best he could in the future to not repeat his mistakes. He had to look for a future. He had to build a new life. God had seen fit to let him live for some reason and he had to search for his purpose in this life.

At times his loneliness almost overwhelmed him. When he couldn't stand the loneliness any longer he would work. It didn't matter that he got up in the middle of the night and walked the grounds completing jobs left undone at the end of the day. He looked for things to occupy his mind.

He had thought he might join the monastery but his soul was too black to wear the cloth of a holy man. His black deeds couldn't be washed white enough to wear the holy clothe of a man of God. He marveled the monastery walls did not fall down around them to have his demon born soul under this hallowed protective shield.

He often wondered why God had played such a horrible trick on him. Giving him a face his own mother hid beneath a mask from his first breath but so many talents and gifts he could bestow upon humanity. That one small part of the man that was flawed ruled his whole life. For that ruined side of his face Erik had hidden in darkness away from all those who lived their lives in light.

There had been a time when Erik didn't believe in God or any holy deity. If there were a God he was a cruel and evil icon. What sort of good and kind deity would let an innocent child be born with a face touched by angels on one side and demons evil hands on the other? Why give him music that came so easily from his mind to fingers then to paper? His voice would have suited any opera stage in the world. Women would have fallen at his feet. If his face had matched his voice he could have lived as a man instead of as a ghost. Something less than human. A mere phantom who had only been seen in shadowy glimpses.

Father Joshua had told him that since there wasn't any evidence and no one had a clear description of him, for Raoul and Christine had refused to testify and left shortly afterwards to marry and live in England, for all intents and purposes Erik was a free man. Since there was no solid proof of his crimes and his connection to them he could leave at any time. No one would stop him. He was a free man in body even if his spirit was still held hostage to his past.

The fact that he had no place to go kept him from making the final step to leave and go his own way, alone as always. What was there in the world for him except what had always been there for the last thirty years? Torment, rejection and ridicule. He wanted no part of that world any longer. He never wanted to have to bury himself below ground like a burrowing animal.

Each night he made a silent prayer. Please God, if I am to be alone, remove the hurt. Let me not miss what I have lost quite so much. Send me to a place where I can be at peace with the sins I have committed. Take some of the pain from my heart and let my memories fade quickly.

As always when his thoughts returned to Christine he put his hand in his pocket to clasp the ring that Christine had given back to him. When he held it he was reminded that for him there was no happy ending no happily ever after. It reminded him that his was a face that would only inspire fear or pity. His mother couldn't love him why should anyone else? He didn't even love himself. He was a loathsome creature.

He hadn't died from his broken heart but he was afraid he had lost his soul to the darkness that he had lived in for all those years. A darkness that had gone so deep that it had caused him to plunge into insanity. His only thoughts had been to seek revenge and take Christine with him. Erik's hurt at what he thought was her betrayal made him forget that she was the one person who had been there for him for all those years other than Antoinette. She couldn't help but turn to Raoul. Raoul didn't frighten her. He had given her the safety and protection of his loving arms.

Erik hadn't meant to frighten her. He had wanted only to love her and have her with him always. Erik had tried to control her with the power of his music. In the end her love for Raoul had been stronger than his power over her. She had once been willing to hear his music and sing his songs. Then in his madness he had caused her to turn from him and seek another. His anger was his greatest enemy in his war to win the love of another.

Father Joshua told him that in time the pain would lesson. He felt that a lifetime wasn't long enough to rid himself of all the pain in his heart. He knew that to dwell on his losses was dangerous for him. His wounds were too fresh to think of what might have been his except for the curse of his face. He shouted curses at the God who had let him live with this face.

Father Joshua was concerned for Erik. If ever there was a man who needed faith it was Erik. The man was a lost soul wandering without direction. If left too long he could be lost to the blackness that was just beneath the surface waiting to take over and destroy what was left of the man Erik was supposed to be. He had lost his way and Father Joshua was determined to provide the lantern for him to navigate through the darkness in his soul.

At times Erik would raise his hand and touch his lips remembering the kisses Christine had given to him. The first touch of a woman's lips had been in good-bye. Her sweet mouth had touched his foul monstrous lips. She had willing placed her lips on his.

Even if it was in pity he loved her all the more for touching him in such a sweet way. Her lips were the only lips to touch his. Her soft hands on his face were the only pair of hands to touch him without delivering stinging slaps or doubled fists pounding against his face. The scars on his back were the evidence of the kind of touching Erik had grown accustomed to. A lash across his back by his Gypsy master had torn his skin many times leaving so many crisscrossing marks they looked like lines of a map.

Many nights in his dreams Erik relived those kisses and his mind would fanaticize about all the things he could never dream to have in reality. Those dreams left him feeling more alone than ever because they ended in the nightmare of his life. A nightmare that remained all too real.

He knew that he would never feel the soft caress of a woman's lips again. Never know the loving touch of a woman. Never know what it felt like to possess and be possessed by someone who loved him. No love in his life, just long years of wanting things that could never be.

Some nights he cursed the God that had given him this burden. He often wondered what purpose he was supposed to serve. So far the only result of his affliction was pain and destruction.

He wanted so much to see Christine. He thought that if he could just see her and get her forgiveness maybe he could face the lonely years ahead. He wasn't allowed even this solace. His prayers went unanswered as his prayers always had. Not once in his life had the things he prayed for been his. It seemed as though God had abandoned him even when he was in his mother's womb.

Father Joshua told him that perhaps God's answer was "No" because he knew that Erik had suffered enough and Christine wasn't the one God had planned for him. Erik found it hard to believe God had any plan for him to have that one person who fit the other half of his soul. Father Joshua said that sometimes the answer we receive isn't the answer we want.

This God that Father Joshua spoke of must be the cruelest of beings. He let this monster he was be born and gave him no one to show him how to love. Not love as most people knew it. His love had been destructive not nurturing.

Perhaps the gypsies were right when they called him the Devil's Child. Erik felt as if he had lost his soul when he had given in to the dark forces that had driven him.

In his need to have Christine he had paid the price of his soul. He had given everything and gotten nothing in return. That he was a figure to be feared he knew. He hadn't even been called by his given name in all the years he was growing up in the opera house. He was only known as the menacing dark ghost that haunted the back stage and would get you if you let your guard down. The Phantom of the Opera or Opera Ghost. He had truly been like a ghost living in the shadows slipping through the corridors unseen and unheard unless he wanted to give a ballet rat or a stagehand a fright.

Erik had gradually come to trust Father Joshua enough to tell him what little he knew about himself. He told of his mother's neglect but most of all her hatred of him. She had hated him so much that she couldn't even stand to have his name on her lips. She blamed him for having lost her husband. She told him that his father even denied him. He didn't want to be a father to a hideous monster that looked as if he were a demon from hell.

Erik had never even seen his father. The night he was born his father had left him and his mother and never returned. He had left a defenseless child with a woman who wished he had died at birth. The woman who instilled in him that he was undeserving of love or even affection. Erik had learned as a small child to fend for himself. He ate what scraps his mother left and stole clothing to cover his small body. Why she hadn't left him to starve as an infant he never knew. Maybe she thought even God would punish her if she took his life. So instead she had gotten rid of him by giving him over to the gypsies.

That hadn't been a physical death but a death of his innocence and the beginning of the darkness that was to take over when he was a lost and lonely man.

Erik was unaware that perhaps God did have a plan for him. He was to set him on a course that would change his life. Erik just needed to be ready to accept what was to come. He did not know that fate had decided he had suffered enough. The small boy who had committed no sins and the man who had committed many more were to have the chance for the kind of life they both wanted.

Erik just had to have the courage to trust yet another woman. To open himself up to the possibility that he could inspire love. A love so deep that she saw the man behind the mask he wore to hide from the world.

Erik's fate would be put in his own hands. He could either decide to open his heart again to love or live in the safety of loneliness.

With guidance from Father Joshua he found the forgiveness he sought. Maybe not the forgiveness of man, but the forgiveness within himself and of a God his good friend Father Joshua assured him did exist.

Father Joshua watched as Erik worked in the garden. It was early spring and things were just beginning to bloom. He had a plan for Erik. Erik needed a new purpose in life. Something that would keep him from dwelling on his loss and the pain he felt.

If things worked as Father Joshua wanted, Erik would be leaving the country and heading for a new life.