Small Anomalies (Phantom of the Opera Fanfiction)

Chapter 2: A Backstory and a Runaway

Five Months Earlier

Third-Person POV

Erik watched from the window as Christine's figure disappeared around the corner. She would never come back, and Erik knew that. 

"It's for the best," Madame Giry spoke up. She could have sworn that she spotted tears in the masked man's eyes. "Thank you for letting her go." When Erik didn't respond, Madame Giry decided to leave the room. Let him be alone. He just did something that's difficult, especially for him. He's never had love before. 

Erik didn't know why he remained in his position at the window for hours. Perhaps he hoped to see Christine's beautiful face again, her silky curls and green eyes. Maybe she would return and proclaim her love for her Angel of Music.

He thought of all he had witnessed. Despite his efforts, Christine would always fear him. She left without a word to her angel, who had watched over her for so many years.

"Why would she say goodbye?" Erik touched the smooth surface of his mask. "I'm a monster."

Erik tried his best not to wallow in self-hatred. His thoughts returned to his beautiful Christine, who was just out of his reach. Erik could have easily gone after her. He would find Christine in a matter of hours, but he decided against it.

"Let her be happy," he softly argued with himself. "Let her escape from this agony, this face."

Christine and Raoul had fled the theater moments after he crashed the chandelier in a fit of rage caused by what he had heard on the rooftop. Erik refused to show his sadness, so he masked it with anger. Sadness is weakness. Don't feel.

"So distorted, deformed it was hardly a face in that darkness," he whispered to himself before deciding what must be done.

"Madame Giry!" Erik forced himself to raise his voice, though he was feeling anything but strength at the moment.

The middle-aged woman entered the room with a look of concern on her face. She could see right past Erik's fake emotions. I've experienced loss, too.

"Erik?" Madame Giry watched as Erik stiffened at the use of his name. She usually addressed the "ghost"  formally, but decided against it in hopes of comforting the him.

"I must go," Erik said firmly and locked eyes with the ballet instructor. "The police will be after me for the murder and chandelier incident. You cannot continue to claim that these aee merely accidents, and I cannot continue hiding here. You can be rid of me. I'm sure you're glad to hear that."

Madame Giry frowned deeply and studied Erik's face. How could he think of himself in such a way?

"Erik, I will help you escape," the man let out a sigh of relief at her words. "But I'm not glad to get rid of you. I've known you since you were but a child."

Erik sighed, disregarding the last sentences. "I'll pack my compositions." He opened the hidden door in the wall and turned to face Madame Giry. "Thank you," he muttered before disappearing into darkness.

Madame Giry let out a sigh. That man is confusing. 

_______

"Here?" Madame Giry asked. When Erik nodded, she parked her black sports car in the small clearing in the woods.

"I'll be alright," Erik assured the woman, who sat with worry clouding her eyes. "Nobody will find me. And if they do, they'll wish they never had." Erik pulled his Punjab lasso out of his pocket slightly and showed it to Madame Giry with a glimmer in his eyes.