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Replaying Past	By : RubyNatulieLee Category: M through R > The Phantom of the Opera > Het Views: 7371 -:- 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
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[Disclaimer: I do not own or make any sort of money off of this based story. I only own the charaters of Esme Lonsdale, Eddy and his sister Crystal, The wig maker, Nicolas and the three boys from Sandor's gang. Everything else I do not own nor belong to me. ]

[Woot! –holds up her picture- I made a cover for my story!]

~~~~~~~~{@

The Phantom of the Opera. The ghost, feared by all.

His voice would send chills of terror down one's spine, his eyes freezing the hearts of the bravest mortals. His dark acts were sin, and his hands stained with the blood of countless of the most gruesome murders. Women swooned in fear when he neared, and men ran to the hills as a simple note writ of his hand floated down among them. Everyone feared this beast, he was in everyone's nightmares. The ghost, haunting the theater forevermore. Still lying in the backs of their minds, tearing at them with horrid thoughts. Horrid memories. Always lurking in the shadows, making them real. Making them live.

Erik, the man feared above all else sat wondering...

How had one so powerful been brought so low?

Erik sat there in stony silence, face firm. He looked grim, as though he were placed at his death, before a crowd. But that was not it, not even close, for Erik, the fearful monster of the shadows, the blood thirsty phantom of the night was forced into an even more terrifying torture. Bullied into sitting beside a broken background flat that laid upon the floor, he sat, with Crystal and Eddy, forced to play...

Tea Party...

He cursed in his head, damn Esme for leaving him with these children. The moment she left, Crystal took his hand and begged him to join her tea party. He didn’t understand how one could have a tea party, without a tea set. But he soon learned. For when Crystal sat him down by the flat, giving a sorry excuse for a table. She took broken pieces of wood, giving him one and one to herself saying happily. “Have a sandwich.” He could only start in shock at the dirty broken wood, turning it from side to side. How was he to eat such a thing? But looking back to the child, she was biting the air, not the wood, making sounds as if food were before her.

Children were so very strange to him indeed.

Eddy refused to play the stupid game, as he so called it. Causing his little sister to cry. But soon the brother felt the strings of guilt and the burn of embarrassment as Erik had too, forcing him self to sit down for the tea party. This lasted a good while, Erik forcing a smile as he drank from the air, holding nothing in his hand, which was suppose to be the cup. While Crystal begged Eddy to try his tea, claming ‘I worked very hard on it’. Were these the childish games one plays when young? He never played such things in his life… Of course, he was never given the chance, to do such wonders.

But half way threw, when Erik believed he was giving a ‘cookie’. A rumble came threw the air. Slowly he shifted his eyes, seeing both Crystal and Eddy slowly touch their stomachs. They growled and Erik could see the desire within their eyes to have a real tea party with cookies and cakes. A stab of pity hit his chest, as a wash of dull pain hit him. Remaining him of his own days… Before coming to the theater. But looking at the two faces before him, he could not help but want to help them. Being they too, have not run from his face… Today that is.

“How about… We get a snack?”

Those hungers filled eyes snapped to him, making his brow raised. Surely their mother had said such things, or they heard of a snack. Or at least fed once today! Pushing himself to stand, brushing at his backside to brush the dust off his pants. He waved his hand. “Come, I have some things down below the theater that should be far better, then those wooden sandwiches.” Eddy seemed very eager to follow Erik down to his lair, while Crystal grabbed onto her dirt-covered dress. “B-But Esme isn’t back yet...”

“I don’t think she’ll be back for some time my dear. Besides, she would think it best if I feed you before tossing you back out to go home.” Right when the word ‘home’ left his mouth, from the corner of his eye, he saw Eddy’s features harden and a snarl form upon his face. Erik needed to ask him why such hate filled the young boy, but not right now. So with a sigh, he touched his mask for safe keeper, before turning towards the middle of the stage, the children hot on his trails.

~~~~~~~~{@

How did this happen?

Esme asked herself that question over and over within her mind, as she stood upon a small wooden box, her arms held out in the air at her sides, as a women rushed around, measuring every inch of her limbs and flesh down to the very digit of her fingers.

She was placed in the back of the room, of the trailers dress shop. It was filled with nothing but woman’s clothing and nightgowns. No man garments anywhere in sight. She found it odd, since Erik sent her to this place, which was written in bold on the note she held. But when she given it to the ladies who worked there, spilling them the money and turned to be on her way. She was stopped.

They took her to the back, saying something of, ‘We can’t follow these!’ or something like, ‘We don’t have a figure which these inches.’ It didn’t take a genius for her to figure out what was going on. At that moment she blushed when she was shoved into the backroom, the curtains pulled to shield her self from on lookers.

Erik was getting her new clothing. She never asked, seeming how she was fine with the old outfits within the room she slept in. But her Phantom just wanted her to have her own. That made her smile, as the ladies told her to undress to her undergarments.

So here she was, getting every place god made for her poked and pressure, measured and taped, colors of very dark shade she had ever seen pressured into her, to see if it matched her just right. Being asked questions, she hardly thought about. But slowly, she started to enjoy it, being giving new dresses, could make any poor girl have a joyful day.

A satin sheet of red, dark as the color of blood was lifted to her, the oldest of the workers smiling. ‘It matches ye’r hair, it does.’ She spoke, making Esme blush at the comment. ‘I believe I’ll make ye a gown, that shall leave all of Pairs gentlemen to give chase!’ As the ladies laugh, Esme thought in the back of her mind, her spirit hoping. Would it make Erik chase her?

In her heart, she hoped so.

~~~~~~~~{@

The day was slowly start to sink and night was coming fast. The cold air swirled around the towns’ area, making the poor tremble within their ally’s. Be damnable if he knew the reason why his father picked France of all places to settle for the time. It was cold! Never had he been use to wearing thick clothing with a coat, to keep him self from gaining frostbit on his features. “It better be worth it.” He growled, his gloved hands rubbing together as his eyes stared at the tailers’ store Esme walked into.

“It better be...”

Sandor stood within the freezing cold. His back pressed into the brick wall. All awhile, trying to get his body to warm up. His little Esme got away from him, but he soon would have her back. A smile crossed his face, and soon she would be under him. Like every last of her whores’ so called her sisters. Heat slowly swam within his veins, as he thought about those nights along ago. Each one of those red heads squealing with pleasure, even some muffled in pain from behind his hand. His father, being the Owner of the Freak show, gave his son more power then he should hope for. To sleep with any one of their workers without complaint. That year, he wanted the gypsy’s. Their father, some drunken fool, who still mourned the passing of his ‘beloved’ wife. Even thou his own hands killed her and his best friend.

He snarled at the drunken fool. Always saying how innocent his daughters’ was, never wanting to know the truth. Admitting opening, whores they became. They spread their legs for anything, and they spread them for him whenever he demanded.

Except Esme.

His eyes narrowed against the cold gust of wind. She was the youngest one of all of them, and was so called, ‘Daddy’s little girl.’ Always innocent and smiling. All her sisters hated her, since their father loved her more. She never left that bastards side, and if she did, he was close to her heels. At nights’ when he laid beside one of those red headed girls, he thought to himself, images and pictures that was against god.

As close as Esme was to her father, and her father being still young enough to still get women to swoon while he performed. Perhaps they were more into each other… Then just a father and daughter… But he shocked that out of his mind, it wasn’t possible. He was a gypsy himself and he knew it was not possible. But it made him think so…

One day he ran into Esme as she was getting ready for her dance, her slender form bare to his very eyes. His groined tighten to the point he wanted her far more then her sisters. She would be far more enjoyable. He remembered that day well, she was talking to Charlie, our fire-eating actor. Like best friends they were, that stabbed a point of jealousy into Sandor mind. But shoving Charlie off to perform, he was giving range to talk to Esme, to sweep her away into his bed. She had the hint of what he was doing, but she couldn’t do anything about it. He was the owners’ son; he was her Head Master, since he was one of her teachers when she came to this show. She owed him then, and she owed him now. But when he got close enough, pushing her into a cold brick wall, pressing her wrists over her head, his mouth lowering her own, seeing the fear within her eyes made him harden. But before he could feel the body against his own, his body was suddenly jerked away and was tossed across the ground, hitting into a cart of wooden boxes.

He looked up, to see who dared to stop him, he saw the fury within the eyes of Esme’s father. Seeing her little form trembling, pressing oh so tightly into her daddy’s back as her hero held his family sword tightly, pointing to tip Sandor neck. His words, muttering in their own tongue, as he growled his warning.

“Stay away from her.”

He needed to rid of the old man, and fast… An ugly smile curled upon his lips. And he did so. Within his mind, as it wondered, he heard the jiggle of bells ring out. Looking up from the ground, he saw a red headed woman walk out of the store, pulling the hood back over her head as she made her way down the sidewalk. Smiling, he rolled his fingers threw his black hair, as he started after her.

“Show time.”
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Replaying Past