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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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Silence shattered the very core of the ball room, no feet would move. No body would break the cursed space. Drinks over filling with bewildered waiters, food paused half way to ones mouth as they stared in mere disbelief of what was happening before them was true.

Raoul could not believe his eyes. It could not be true. His grip upon Esme loosened as his wife stiffened, her fingers snagging his sleeve with such a grip he feared blood would fall from her palms from her nails. Christine’s very face went white, her eyes wide in fear. She held onto Raoul, on the very edge of tears. She knew he would come back for her. Erik would take her away from Raoul and demand her hand once again. Why? Why was fate so cruel to her? She only wanted to be happy.

“I will not say it again.” Erik was beyond angry, he would not let Raoul take away the only thing he could have. “Remove your hand from her!” The people around him jerked back from his sudden bellow, causing wine glasses to slip from trembling fingers and older ladies to swoon in a dead faint.

“Erik..” Raoul snarled in rage. So the Phantom was back for Christine, the old goat could not keep away. How sad he thought, Erik could not get over the fact that his Angel picked him over his horrifying face. Not only was Erik making an ass of himself, but he was ruining Raoul at the same time! No, not this time. Raoul will make sure Erik learns once and for all, Christine was his and will always be his. “Raoul.” His wife’s voice whimpered, with such fear and pain as she looked to him with such need, with trust that he would protect her. “Don’t let him take me.” Letting Esme go, whom stumbled a little to regain her balance, his hands grasped Christine’s waist and pulled her close to his body, marking his spot before Erik’s eyes. Let the phantom bellow now, Raoul smirked. Erik could curse and blame him all he wanted, but Christine would not go to him.

“Erik… A pleasure to see you again.” He spat sourly, his hand stroking his wife’s trembling back lightly. “I must say thou, causing such a scene for yourself is very rude. Why, I’m almost ashamed for you.” He watched Erik’s eyes narrow throw his mask, his hands tighten into a fist. But he walked and Christine pushed closer to her husbands body. Erik made his way down the empty hall the guests made for him, all to scared, to shocked to believe such things could befallen. At the bottom step, he looked up to them and Raoul snarled. What was he doing? What was he planning?

His arms lifted, his right foot lifted to step upon the first step, his face staring hard, his glare sure as he called out.

“Come back to me..”

“No!” Christine’s voice ripped from her throat. Her arms wrapped around Raoul back as she sobbed, feeling his arms tighten around her. “Do not let him take me! I told you not to hold this ball, now I will be taken and suffer once again. Why will he not leave me alone!” Looking over her arm a little, down at the still Erik whom held his arms out to her, she cried to him in such pain and rage. “Leave me alone! I do not want to marry you! Why must you tour-’

Her voice was silenced suddenly when golden red hair rushed past her, a body stumbling down the steps with such haste and unsteadiness, the guests below held their breath in wait for the body to trip and fall. Raoul and Christine watched, dumb founded as Esme rushed down the steps, her misted eyes clouded with tears as her arms reached out to Erik, needing, wanting to be back in his arms. The words that had formed on Christine’s tongue died as she watched in shock, as Esme reach the last step and shove herself into Erik’s arms. Something squeezed her heart as she watched Erik’s arms close around that gypsy women and hold her close. His lips touching her forehead, holding her as thou she were the last person in the world..

…Jealously….

Erik held Esme tightly, feeling her tremble and sob. “I have you now.” He cooed to her, letting his fingers brushed throw her golden curls. “I wont let any one take you.” Esme held tight, her nails daring to claw at Erik’s back to keep the promise he made. She felt so weak, so scared. Some many things could go wrong but at that moment. She felt safe, she felt protected. “Erik..” She whispered. Her body was growing numb, her mind becoming fuzzy. “Something’s…. I don’t..”

Erik frowned as he watched Esme daze in and out of her thoughts. “Esme.” He spoke her name lightly, but she only stared at him, her eyes dazed and unsure, as her arms loosened its hold. The drug that circled throw her veins took its moment. A deep sigh passed throw her lips as her body went lip, her head tilting back, slumping into Erik’s hold as his face broke into shock and horror.

“Esme!”

“What have you done to her you bastard!” Erik held Esme limp body in horror. What had Raoul done to her? “I will kill you!” He swore, causing Raoul to flinch and take a step back. But before Erik could pick his passed out gypsy yup, a hand grabbed his shoulder and jerked him around.

“Tat be mine there laddie.”

Erik snarled in confusion for a moment to see the chubby pig masked man who he had punched out early before. Like a flash something struck Erik’s jaw knocking him off balance, his body striking the marble floor, Esme falling with him, landing at his side, her hair spilling around her. Erik’s mouth exploded with pain as the taste of cooper filled his throat. Blood dripped down his jaw as he struggled to right himself from the surprise attack. The guest gasped but dare not more to help, to stop the attack from reaching and grabbing Esme, yanking her limp body from the floor.

“Go’cha now there lass, time ta get back ‘ome.’

Erik growled, pushing himself to his hands and knees, spitting out the copper tasted spit from his tongue. “Let her go.” He grunted out as he pushed himself back up. No one would help Esme, he damned them all. The pig man just snorted and held Esme limp body over his shoulder like a sack of potato’s. “Now why don’t cha come an’ make me boy.’ With a snarl, Erik grabbed the handle of the sword Esme had carefully hooked to his hip, sliding it from its holder, the tip of the blade pointing to the pig’s nose. Erik swore.

“Last chance pig, give her back.”

George only snorted at the threat. But with a smug smile, his hands trailed up along Esme’s bare thigh, his tongue licking his dry lips in delight. “Not a chance, haven’t had me a Gypsy for some time now. Gonna poke her good too.” As he laughed, his hand touching the round rum of Esme’s backside, Erik voice ripped out in a yell as he lashed forward, swinging the blade, letting the sharp edges cut the air as he aimed for the bastards head.

Sparks flashed as metal met metal, tremble grunts of strength being matched.

George stood chuckling with amusement as Erik struggled, his eyes wide, his arms trembling to keep his strength against the blade that stopped him. But whom he looked at suck the very air he held in his lungs, his very fear dancing before his eyes.

A man was before him, matching his strength, his body covered in a black suit and tie, black gloves hands trembled and held tight to the handle of his own sword, that held Erik’s attack at bay. His face was twisted in anger, in rage, his eyes burning for blood. Black hair slicked back, some strands brushing across the front of his face. But over his face, lingering one side laid a white mask.

For a split second Erik’s heart drowned in fear and horror as he came face to face what looked to be himself..
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Replaying Past