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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 character 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.

~~~~~~~~~{@

The night was not being kind to Esme.

Sitting upon the swan like bed of Erik’s, her fingers gently stroking the fallen hair, that lingered over the poor childs’ forehead. After some time, Esme was finally able to claim the worry stuck Eddy. Letting her be able to tend to his bruises and wounds. How could someone beat a child? She didn’t understand it. Looking down at the boy, seeing his head settled within her lap, his lips parted in gentle breaths of sleep. He worried himself to sleep. His body begging for the darkness of dreams to claim. But with Eddy taken care of, Esme’s heart drummed even louder at the thought of Erik.

He had run off so suddenly, that she was not given the reasons for it. Worry hit her, along with fear. What if someone attacked him? What if someone tried to mug him and kill him? Her mind flooded with all the act’s that could have fallen over her beloved Phantom. But her heart cried out for better. Telling her he would be safe. That he would return to her arms so she could hold him tightly.

With Crystal at his side.

She knew this, for the young lad, sleeping in her grasp. Uttered his sisters name, so mournfully. Something must of happened to her, and she only hoped Erik went to help her. She didn’t care if he claimed to be a beast, a devil. He was still human...

And Esme knew his heart still cared.

So with a deep breath, and a slow sigh. She watched over the sleeping boy. Hoping with silent pray’s. That Erik would be alright and Crystal would be clinging to him at his side.

~~~~~~~~~{@

“No......”

It happened so fast. Erik could not stop it. He didn’t know how it happened.

“Not like this...”

His mind burned, as his eyes stared. He didn’t mean for this to happen, but his blood boiled and his mind screamed in rage. He couldn’t control it no longer. His mind went blank and his body shot into motion, leaving him to stand before the after math, still in shock.

Blood slowly dripped down his fingers, that trembled before his eyes. The room was filled with the noises of sorrow, the screams of tears that tailed down the one face he came to save.

“Not again...”

Door after door. Erik had kicked in, holding tight to Crystal’s mothers arm, dragging her screaming body behind. Couple upon Couple looked at him, as if he lost his mind.

He feared he did. Worry grabbed him, but soon, his heel met a door, smacking it open. And before him, his goal was found. And a roar left his lips.

Crystal sobbing upon the stain sheets, with a man looming over her half dressed body... The images fade into red as He threw Crystal’s mother into the very room, her daughter was being tormented. No one could stop him, no one dared.

One minute, he was standing between the door frames.

The next he was clinching the struggling man by the collar of his shirt, slamming his fist into the face of the dark brown hair man. Whom cursed and yelled at him to get out. He couldn’t stop, the blood spilled over his knuckles, into his shirt, but he could not stop. His body demanded the blood, demanded the pain. He could not stop himself.

Blood coated the once pretty boys’ face. His nose shattered, bruises coating his eyes, red liquid spilling down that once sharp chin and jaw. Teeth dropping to the ground. Living the man alive would only cause harm. His mind told him to stop, told him to tend to the crying child. But his rage over powered it. And with another roar, that rattled the very windows of the room. His blood covered fingers, wrapped around his wind pipe, blocking off life’s air. He watched, with narrowed eyes and a snarled expression, his hood of his cloak falling off, causing a scream to leave Crystal’s mothers lips. At the site...

Of his mask.

He watched with great pleasure, as the man struggled to breath. His face turning redder then the blood on his face. His body struggling, his feet dangling from the ground as Erik held him up. The man’s nails raking into Erik’ wrist, but he felt no pain. But soon, the body began to fight less and less, those eyes that were coated in fear by the site of Erik’s face, rolled up and left him. Those nail ripped fingers slipped and swept at those sides, his jaw locked, then relaxed. With a growl, Erik threw the limp body to his side.

But his anger stilled raged. No one from that door, whom stared at him in such shock, dare step towards him to stop his ungodly act. But his blood lust was not filled. Slowly he turned, his black hair spilling over his face, giving him the look of a mad man, that caused another scream to leave Crystal’s mothers mouth. But the site made his stomach sink, and his finger itch for another life.

Crystal’s mother, knelt on the ground by that stained bed, holding her crying child so tightly. As if, she had lost Crystal and was finally back together. Erik’s foot steps tapped softly upon the ground as he made his way over to the two. Watching Crystal clinging to her ripped clothes, struggling from her mothers grasp’s. To run into Erik’s shadow. He snarled, he knew this whore would sale her daughter again... Over and over to keep the coins coming. How could a mother do this... How could a mother use her own child, her own flesh and blood.

“Why? ”

Falling to his knees, he ripped the child from her mothers grasp, making the mother scream, tears falling so prettily down her rosy cheeks. “I thought mothers are suppose to protect their children from this.” Thrusting the crying child behind him, his blood soaked hands grabbed the mothers shoulders tightly, threatening to brake her very bones. “Your suppose to love her!”

He didn’t know how. But his hands were at one moment, upon the lasses shoulders. But next was squeezing her tender neck. Harder and harder, he watched with such rage, with such sorrow. His old memories flying back. Of himself, at such a tender, innocent age, sitting within the middle of the cage the freak show shoved him into. Hugging his badly made doll, crying, crying out for help, crying out for his mother whom never loved him. Whom threw him off to the side. Cried for the gentle embrace he so dreamed about. He cried...

And his tears fell, slipping down his cheeks, as he watched the life within the women eyes slowly fade.

Slowly the stings of pain seeped into his vines, as he slowly looked down. She didn’t go without a fight. His shirt was ripped, baring the blood marks of nails, his knuckles going numb and raw from the cuts. Slowly he let her go, letting her body slump to the side, hunting him with those eyes, they stayed wide.

“No...” He whispered, slowly sitting upon his backside, feeling Crystal cry and scream upon his back, at the site of her still mother.

“Not again..”

~~~~~~~~~{@

“Sandor!”

Sandor gave a growl, rolling over onto his side. Yanking the covers upon his bed up more. Blocking out the sounds of his names being shouted at this ungodly hour. But a smile slowly curled upon his lips, as he felt the little movements of Charlie, whom started to stir from his slumber. Perhaps there was time for another round.

But soon the sound’s of fists upon his door made a curse fly from his throat.

“Sandor! Open up, tis important!”

Flinging back the covers, he cursed and grumbled, yanking his trousers back on. Charlie soon followed, but he only wrapped the sheets about his waist, staring in confusion at the display before him. Raking his black hair back with his fingers, Sandor unbolted his door and flung it open, his face masked with rage as he growled.

“What is it man?!”

George stood before him, his pot belly showing threw his badly sized vest and shirt. Sandor rose a brow, it seemed his fat friend was running down the hall, by the way he was breathing and clinging to the door frame for balance.

“It’s.....It’s Adam!”

Sandor rose a brow, “What about him?” He demanded, feeling Charlie settle behind him, leaning up to glance over his shoulder to see what was befalling.

“He’s dead Sandor! He been murdered!”
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Replaying Past