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Nightsong Sweet	By : PhantomPhreak Category: M through R > The Phantom of the Opera > Het Views: 1680 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Phantom of the Opera, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Nightsong Sweet
- 1
Nightsong Sweet (NC-17):

(© Kat Taylor)

(Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to "The Phantom of the Opera," nor do I own the character "Erik..." I give full credit to the one who created "The Phanotm of the Opera," himself, Monsieur Gaston Leroux. This is just a shamless plug to hopefully one day, get published as a romamace ganere of Fan Fiction by your average true-to-form amature writer - Who has absolutely no idea what the hell she is doing ;) ;)).

Please don't hasitate to email your suggestions, questions, and/ or comments (nevative criticism is always welcome, but positive is always best, and the nicest) to:

thetruebrideoferik@yahoo.com

1900 to"

No angel am I" How could I be? An angel to whom, may I ask? I am condemned to sit alone within this very hell that I must live out until the very end of this world! The dead never sleep. It's very tempting to venture out into reality" But what does reality hold for me anyway? With no one left to haunt... I sit alone, and drown myself out in my organ's sweet song" A song for no one to hear" Ah, how I have once befriended the greats" Bach, Beethoven, and Mozart were once like close brother's to me" But alas! There will never be another great, such as them" Or me for that matter"

Oh, how I do yearn to see my beloved Christine once again" But she is now an angel to the Lord. Her sweet song still haunts me, as I did once to her. An angel" Boy how that does sound like filthy mockery to my ears! If anything, she is an angel of the night.

"Alright I will venture out into the great world beyond this wretched world far beyond the depths of this very hell that I have made in my very own image, and choose to very well call "home'! I WILL VISIT CHRISTINE DAAE'S GRAVE ONCE MORE!" I spat with myself.

As I got dressed, and placed my finest cloak and fedora on, I chuckled madly to myself at what an idiot I was. I knew that within my heart that she loved me, but I also knew that she couldn't bear to live the rest of her days in hell. Taking the torch from the entryway, I left. Secretly, I wished that another one would come to take her place"

I took the quickest route out of my lair that evening" I haven't the vaguest idea why I did. I entered the stables to get my horse César, mounted him bareback, and left. Traveling through the City, looking at how much it had went to the slums; I shook my head in disgust, and gave César a quick jab in the sides.

*************

Arriving, I dismounted César, and began to walk through the back gates of the cemetery with caution, hand upon the butt of my sword. Christine had many great admires during her climatic days at the Opera Populaire, the days right before she eloped with that bastard Raoul, and was stricken with what the mortals call, "the demon known as cancer."

As I approached the grave of my once beloved Christine, I heard a voice from the face of her tomb. I stopped within a foot form the far side of the grave, my hand now grasping the butt of the sword. As I listened more closely, I realized that this was the voice of a young woman's"

"PLEASE, MAMA! Please send someone to guide me away from this wrath that my papa has me living under""

When I rounded the tomb, her head was resting upon the foot of the gravestone, weeping, her stark – black hair draped all around. "Mama? I didn't know that Christine bore children"" I wondered, making sure that I concealed myself from her by the shadows of the grave, and the other's. There was a full autumn moon out tonight, and a bright one at that, casting dramatic shadows upon the snow.

I finally decided to show myself.

"Who at my beloved's grave?" I questioned, in a booming whisper.

The youth started. "Her daughter, wh – who wants to know?" She said, with an angelic innocents to her demand back.

"Show yourself, good Monsieur." She continued.

I stepped out from the shadows, and saw beauty far beyond what beauty could ever fathom being. Her face, the color of porcelain, her hair as black as the night's sky, her eyes so crystal blue that they were almost transparent, her nose, turned up slightly at the end like her mother's was, her lips, full and lush, like a crimson rose yearning for it's first kiss by a foreign lover. Her dress was of the finest ebony Victorian lace, long as it fell into the snow, making ruffles, like a freshly laid lace tablecloth, not yet straightened" I was in love all over again, my loins burned in passionate desire for this foreign youth that sat at my past's suitor's grave.

"Who brings you here? Did my father send you?" Her eyes were bloodshot from crying, those eyes that knew far, far too much for a youth such as this.

"I come on my own accord, Mademoiselle. Does one such as angelic as this, have a name?"

"Angelina Savanna Daae. And yours?"

"Erik. Why does an angel such as yourself weep?" I questioned, now squatting down in the snow.

"I – I dare not say, Monsieur Erik" I cannot say."

"Please call me Erik. I swear this to you, I will keep anything and everything that you share with me a secret. Something must be troubling you, my child. Please share with me what it is." I gently coaxed.

"You really aren't sent by my father to look for me, are you?" She looked at me in question. This sounded more like a statement rather than a question.

I shook my head, modestly. "No, I should hope not."

I stood, and offered her my hand. "Come away with me, child. Come away from all this hell that it sounds to me like you live."

"It sounds as if I don't have a choice in the matter, do I?" Angelina said, satirically.

"What are the odds? Wit and beauty" Almost like her mother's" But her mother wasn't quite as beautiful as this youth that sat in the snow before me." I thought to myself, taking Angelina's hand, and helping her to stand.

"Tell me what is troubling you, my child? What brings you here to your mother's grave at this hour of the night?" I gently coaxed once again.

"My father's a bastard, and wouldn't leave very well what should be left alone. You know, my mother told mea little bit about a man that once wandered and haunted the depths of the Opera Populaire, with the same name as yourself. I would hope that one day I would encounter the Angel of Music, and he would come to take me away from this very hell on earth."

"Surely it isn't that bad" Is it?" I questioned.

Angelina nodded.

"You are safe now, child... You needn't fear your father's wrath any longer."

We approached the back graveyard's gates, and she looked at the stark – white horse that almost seemed to have a radiance about him from the moonlight.

"What is your horse's name?" Angelina questioned.

"César."

"Beautiful horse. What kind of horse is he?"

"Arabian Thoroughbred."

"He hasn't a saddle, how are we supposed to ride him?"

"You have ridden a horse before" I mean without carriage?"

Angelina nodded, "But only bareback."

"Than, you are going to learn how to ride sidesaddle bareback. Come along now" I will make sure that you don't fall off."

Angelina smiled, and I mounted her on my horse. I then got on myself, and we left her mother's and my now since passed on beloved's grave. The Fates were certainly with me tonight, as we rode off into the bold moonlight. The Fates were certainly with me"

*************

When we approached the shamble of a home, the Opera Populaire, and into César's stall, I looked down on Angelina's face to see that she was deep asleep. I hated to awake her, for she really lived up to the expectations of her name. For once, I guess that I found someone to not only conquer, and possess, but to love, and in return, be loved, as I sensed her to do.

I got off of César, and let my sleeping angel fall to his back side. Then, I gingerly picked up my angel granted to me by the night Gods and Goddesses. She stirred, and I began to hum a melodic lullaby to her. She did something totally unexpected. She placed her long, slender arms around my neck, and nuzzled closer to me" I held her closer. I felt that I had to, for no matter what hellish past she had, she was coming to rest within her proper home, now.

I knew all too well the corridors and the catacombs to my (our) house beyond the lake" All too well that I haven't the need of a torch to guide me home. With the boat ready on its shore beyond the catacombs, I gently lay her upon the bed of the finest black Persian silken pillows, and gently covered her up with a black blanket of the finest wool. I got into the boat, untied it, and pushed off with my staff.

As I rowed to my home, I question to myself "Why are the Fates blessing their undead genus with such a gift as this angel?"

My thoughts were interrupted when I felt a stir from beneath my sprawled legs to keep the boat balanced.

"Erik, where are you taking me?" My angel dreamily said as she looked up at me.

"We are going home, my precious angel." I said warmly.

"Where is "home' exactly?" Angelina questioned.

"You will see soon enough." I smiled at her, warmly. Something that I swore that I had forgotten how to do, but alas! I couldn't help myself.

*************

We approached my home, and let the boat float itself ashore. As it parked, I tied into place, and got out. I offered her my left hand, and she took it into hers.

"Are you able to walk? We still have a little ways left to my home, Angelina."

Angelina nodded.

"Come, let me guide you through the darkness of the catacombs." I said.

"Do you not have a torch?"

"I haven't a need. And besides, I know these halls like the back of my hand. We are approaching some steps, please be mindful of them."

As we approach the bottom of the steps, there was a torch that I somehow forgot about. It was lit. As I was to be the first one to the bottom of the steps, Angelina tripped over her skirt, and fell into me. I caught her, and Angelina gazed into my eyes, for the longest of moments. Her eyes piercing right into my soul.

"Are you alright, Angelina?" I gently questioned, concerned that she may have wrenched her ankle upon the stumble.

Angelina gathered herself up, and nodded.

"I'll be just fine, Erik. Thank you for your concern."
"Who wouldn't be concerned for this angel?" I added.

"Angel? Erik, I hate to be the barer of bad tidings, but there isn't a God" So how can I be this so-called "angel' that you speak of?" Angelina question, her innocents once again showing.

I shook my head, and thought to myself, "A woman that takes after my own heart, but why?"

"Surely your mother must have raised you with the Scriptures?" I found myself questioning to her. I didn't understand why I would even raise up such a question.

She nodded once again.

"You see, that's the problem, Erik. I want to believe, sure, but""
Angelina trailed off, and hung her head in disgust.

"What is it, child?" I gently coaxed as I took the torch from its holder.

"Erik, you aren't "The Phantom of the Opera' that my mother used to weave stories about, are you?"

I smiled down at my Angelina, and nodded a slow, single nod.

Angelina slowly placed an arm around my waist, and slowly dropped her head upon my shoulder.

"Come, child, the hour grows late, and its time that you were in bed."

"Erik?"

"What is it, my child?"

"I don't know how to say this" But""

"Go on; remember what it is that I said at your mother's grave?"

"I love you. My mother surely must be looking down upon me""

"You want to know what I think?"

"What do you think?"

"I think that she is graciously looking down upon the both of us, in a heaven that I will personally never come to know." I smiled at Angelina.

"Then I hope that is the same with me, as well, Erik, my love."

And with the sound of those very words, I shuttered internally, merely to the point where I cringed.

"Are you willing to spend eternity with the undead? Are you willing to sell your soul to the Devil's main Adversary? Are you willing to spend endless nights of unspoken pleasure?" I questioned, placing the torch back into to its holder, and held her by her waist.

Angelina only smiled, placed her long, slender arms around my neck, leaned up her full height of five feet, nine inches, and passionately kissed me. My loins were on fire for her right now. I would have thrown her passionately up against the stone wall, and made love to her right then and there, granted the opportunity" But not here. No, now wasn't the time, nor the place to loose her innocents to the night.

Upon release, she gazed into my eyes, my Death's eyes of the Night, and smirked at her seductively.

"It's time that you come home, Angelina" It's time to come home"" I seductively said.

"I am already here." Angelina seductively smirked back.

I knew it to be a long night, and Angelina knew it to be one too" She could see it within my eyes. We approached my home, and she stood there eying me, questioning what passion lied before us that night. Then, she noticed that I was without a face, she squinted to see better in the light.

"Erik?"

"What is it, love?" I turned to her, and gently eyed her.

"You know that you said that I shouldn't keep you in the dark about anything?"

"Yes, child?"

"Well, I would hope that you would do the same for me. Can I ask you a question?"

"You may ask me anything. Out with it, child."

"I noticed that you wear a mask to conceal you wear a mask. Why is that? I was told by my mother what horrific monstrosity laid beneath that mask, but I personally am not that easily frightened""

She hung her head liked a whipped puppy, as if she had said something wrong.

"It's alright; you don't have to tell me, I should have known better than to leave private matters well alone."

I took her gingerly by her chin, and gazed into her soul.

"You haven't anything to be ashamed of. It's alright that you ask. I haven't anything to keep from you, as I hope that you wouldn't keep anything from me. Come along inside. " I smiled warmly at Angelina.

I took her by her hand, and led her inside my home.

"If you would please forgive the mess" You see, it's been a while since I have entertained company. Your mother was the last, you know?"

Angelina gave a respectful nod.

"Are you sure that you want this?" I questioned leading her into my bedroom.

"You keep asking that, Erik" I don't understand what you mean." She questioned, schoolgirl-like.

"I'm immortal, you're not" You sleep with death, the spell is cast."

"I honestly don't care about that, Erik. All I care about is finishing up what my mother neglected to do with you in the first place. Besides, upon her death bed she wished me off with you, but my father forbid it, call us both raving mad, and saw to it that the moment she passed on to an eternal life that I knew for a fact I could not very well live in, he placed me into one of the "finest' asylums in all of Paris" Well supposedly one of the "finer' ones. You know what Paris has become with it being after the war and all"? To answer your question plainly, yes, I want this, and I want you" I have wanted you since the first moment my mother wove her stories about her and yourself" I wanted so incredibly too hopefully one day be a part of her romance" And now you are here within my life, and I hope that it will never end!"

I nodded. "I will see to it that you shall never have to live out this hellish life here that I see your father has already put you through." I said as I led her into my bedroom, her mother's formal room.

I placed the candelabra on the nightstand, squatted, and slowly began to unlace my boots. Once off, I stood, reached around and unzipped her lace mourning gown. I gingerly pushed it off her shoulders, and as it fell to the floor, I began to unlace her black corset. She revealed to me a body far more perfect than her mother's" "She may have come from Christine Daae's womb, from that bastard Raoul, but at least this angel is willing." I thought to myself, seductively smirking.

Angelina gazed into my eyes, eyed me playfully, and unlaced the tie to my cloak. That night, I didn't care that it fell to the floor. All that I cared about was making this lost, stranded soul in the night happy. Angelina smirked playfully as she began to unbutton my dress shirt. She pushed it off just as gingerly as I did her dress, and began exploring with her crimson lips, and her tongue every nook of unexplored death that my body was" At least the deformity only lay beneath my unmasked face.

I inched her up, gave her a passionate kiss, drew back the black silken sheers, and leaned her upon my lavish canopy bed, drawing them back as she adjusted herself under my black sheets of the finest Persian silk, and pillows made from the same material, and stuffed with the finest down. I unbuttoned my pants, and let them drop to the floor" And the slowly, the act began.

I was entirely amazed that Angelina, being the innocent virgin that I assumed her to be, didn't wince out in pain as I slowly inserted myself.
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Nightsong Sweet