A Second Chance

DISCLAIMER:

Title: A Second Chance.
Author: Larissa
Summary: She has the courage to save his life and give him a new one. Based on Susan Kay's and Gerard Butler's phantom.
Rating: R.
Pairing(s): Erik/Melanie and Erik/Christine.
Feedback: desired and appreciated.
Characters: Erik from Susan Kay's book "Phantom" and from Gerard Butler's interpretation.
Disclaimer: I do not own Erik, Christina and Daroga. The other characters listed in this story are all mine. I do not make any money out of it.


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It was very late when Erik got out of bed, opened the door of his bedroom and checked to see if the house was, indeed, completely asleep.

He had gone to bed fully clothed to make his “escape” easier, so he just rapped his cape around his body and left for the stables.

As he walked down the stairs with his cape flying about his feet, he felt something heavy hit the outside of his leg. As he got to the hall, lightened by a few candles, he examined the inside of his cape. There were two pockets on each side. He pulled out of them a long scarf, a small dagger and a rope with a lasso tied in the point.

The same images of faces suffocating to death invaded his mind as well as the words “Punjab lasso”. He felt a mix of pleasure and horror take care of his body. It was past and present fighting to overtake each other.

Erik stumbled towards the reception room and set down on a couch. His head was spinning and hurting.

[i]I hadn’t worn this cape after the accident. I didn’t remember what was inside it. Well, at least I didn’t use this objects in this house and I have no intention of doing so. Since they are a personal defense, they’ll stay where they are. Later I’ll get rid of them.[/i]

He stood up and walked to the door. It was easy now to understand why he felt safe with it… he had an artillery inside his pockets.

He took one of the duke’s hats that were inside a small closet in the main hall. He chose a large one, which would cover his face better and quickly walked back and left the house through the back door.

He went to the stables and saddled Melanie’s stallion, Drakon, who instantly recognized him, placing the nuzzle on his hand and sniffing him.

He only started galloping when he was far from the palace. The animal was strong and fast and it took him half an hour to find himself standing before the building which was once his home… the Opera Populaire.

He stood there with anger, hate and grudge filling his chest. He moved the horse to a passage through the side street and walked into the darkened tunnels of the opera house.

He passed through a labyrinth of corridors and large rooms filled with rats. Holding a torch, which was on the floor by the entrance of the passage, he made his way to the lake.

He left the torch on the wall by the horse, so the rats wouldn’t bother him, and made his way into the small gondola he kept hidden in a corner. He slowly rowed the gondola through the lake, getting to what once was his lair.

What he saw when he got there was devastating. Everything was upside down. His organ was turned over and his music scores and drawings were spread across the floor. The curtains had been ripped off of their places and the candle holders and mirrors had been broken.

He managed to light a few candles that were on the floor and, holding one, went to the side of what once was the throne he used to sit on to draw.

He squeezed himself through a crack in the wall and went into a small niche where there was nothing but stoned walls. He pressed one of the stones and the wall moved opening wide enough only for him to pass.

Behind the wall there was room filled with sacs and cases. He took two sacs and left, closing the passage behind him.

He was walking to what was his room to get a bag and a trunk when he passed through another room with a swan shaped bed in it. Approaching the bed he lift the torn curtain up revealing the dusty satin shits. His head started hurting again as the images of a young woman laying there with her eyes shut made their way into his brain. He took a few steps back, anguish crushing his chest as well as anger and pain.

His hand gripped the cape and he left the shape of the lasso pressed against the side of his body. A smiling, young man with blond hair and a noble pose appeared in front of him.

Erik could not tell when it was the time that he took the lasso out of his pocket. When he realized he was swirling it in the air and tossing it towards the ghost of that man.

“Bastard! I’m going to kill you!” a terrifying haul left his throat as he shouted in anger.

He punched the walls, and yelled incomprehensive words as tears fell down his face, blurring his vision and burning his heart.

With a strength he did not know he had he turned the swan bed over, kicking and pushing it until it found it’s way out of the room and into the peaceful waters of the lake.

“I’ll kill you too… traitor!” he shouted as he watched the bed sink.

Exhausted, Erik let himself fall to the ground. He stood laying on his stomach, breathing heavily as the tears rolled down his cheeks. He fought not to loose his senses, reaching out to the lake, taking some water in the palm of his hand and splashing it on his face.

Why was he angry with the young couple? Was that Christine? Of course it was. But who was the man? What had they done to him so that he would want to kill them? What sorrow was that that filled his heart to the point of turning him into a murderer again?

“Melanie, please, Melanie… help me… please. I don’t want to become a killer again… I need to get out of here and go back to the palace. I must burry my past and live this second chance I’m having. Yes… I’ll leave, I have to leave this hell.” He whispered to himself.

Slowly he stood up, took some drawings, music scores, clothes and… his mask.

He put it all inside a trunk, blew out the candles and left, not caring to look back… look back at the ghosts who haunted the phantom.