After The Opera Burned || Phantom Of The Opera

Prologue

            Erik watched as the Paris Opera House, the one place where his hopes and dreams were created and then destroyed, erupt into flames before him. After watching his music, his soul, his passion float away into the fog with her lover, he was happy to see it burn. He had almost wished she had never looked back but she did, and he saw what he thought was sadness in her eyes while doing so. 'No' he thought to himself, letting the wind of the flames soar close to his current hiding spot, 'that was not sadness, just pity for poor Erik'. He closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath to hinder the pain that was seeping through his chest, where he presumed his heart should be, and leaned back against the cool brick of the building behind him. When Erik heard the mob coming down the watery tunnels towards his lair, he left his mask behind and escaped through a hidden passageway. From there he creeped through his maze and made it out to three blocks down the road, where he climbed the fire escape and now watched from the rooftop of a nearby building, seeing all of his work and his heart burn. 'She looked back' he thought to himself again while wishing he could somehow make these thoughts remain silent. He then reopened his eyes to look back at his latest work. The police and fire departments were already at the scene, trying to contain and then extinguish the fire, but just as Erik had often seen before, getting rid of big problems is not as easy as it seemed. No doubt the mob was still after him but being well blended in with the brick behind him, he was confident no one would be bothering him any time soon. He did not know where he was going or what he was going to do but for now that did not matter, he would find a way just as he did before.

            It was silly of him to think he found his one true calling while lurking in the shadows of the Paris Opera House and in retrospect, he wished it were still happening. That the madness of seeing his obsession with another man made him crazy to make her choose, and her trying to be brave to save someone she really loved while secretly being miserable, he knew he couldn't make her live like that. But when she sang for him, he was nothing but a man. He felt at peace when her lungs filled with song and his ears moaned to the beauty in which his playing and her voice made. It was his drug and he had to quit cold turkey. Erik wanted Christine just as happy as she had made him, and if that wasn't with him then so be it. If the Viscount was better... 'you're thinking about her again' he thought to himself. He banged the side of his head twice, trying to stop his ludacris thoughts from ruining the ritual of cleansing himself, but it was hard not to. Suddenly tons of residences were now crowding around the building as it continued to be engulfed by flames and he knew by this point he had no choice but to continue moving on and away from the scene of the crime. With nothing hiding his face, he placed his hood and cloak over himself, descending down the fire escape from whence he came.

            After reaching to the ground below, he looked back to admire the fact he foresaw an event like this coming.  Erik began to think about the clever escape route that led to an abandoned street and made his way away from the fire. He remembered to be careful as he did not want to raise suspicion of his wrong doings but at this point, did it really matter? Everything was gone, his music, his sculptures, his treasure, her... Erik shook his head once more and continued down the road. Not one person was on the road or one candle on in the window where he was walking and Erik was pleased. This made things much easier for him to enjoy while he searched for a place to hide away for the night. He started to lose hope until he found an inn about two miles away. He walked inside and saw a plain room with a few chairs to the right side, a stand to the left with a skinny older man behind the stand. The man appeared to be in his 40s with a well-groomed mustache that curled out, as was the current fashion. Though his eyes were not huge, they were open and he stood tall in hopes that Erik was a wealthy man. Trying not to smile at this man's eagerness, he asked if they had any rooms available to which the innkeeper quickly declined. Not sure as to why he was lying, Erik thanked him for his time and walked back outside, only to jump onto the fire escape of the inn's building and notice that he did in fact have empty rooms. He carefully made his way into one, locked the door, and prepared himself for the road ahead. It wasn't the bed he was used to at the Paris Opera House, but it was a bed and it was free. He slipped off his cape and shoes, remaining in the rest of his ensemble as he crawled into the soft sheets of the newly made bed and rested his head against the fluffy cloud of a pillow.

A/N: These first two chapters are pretty short from what I had noticed, but they do get considerably longer as the chapters progress! Thanks for checking out the story :]