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Memoirs of a Monster	By : Luv Category: M through R > The Phantom of the Opera > Het Views: 2993 -:- 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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As the days passed, Maddy returned to her former state of health as well as expected. Outwardly she affected a cheery and light disposition that I found charming. Though I made no request of her to stay with me, I likewise never suggested her leaving, and given this freedom, she remained of her own accord. She busied herself quite efficiently to small tasks such as organizing my notes and tidying my workspace, undertakings which I admit made me nervous at first, but soon I became accustomed to her flitting about me like a songbird, humming and nesting, as it were. Before long I grew to depend on her, to locate things I could not find, to bring me tea when I desired it, and to give her opinion when I required one about my work. These she did with the happiest air of purpose, she seemed the type that liked being useful. Most importantly, she kept me company, and I found myself becoming extremely fond of her.

There came a day, however, when her absence came to my attention (for she was rarely out of sight), and I discovered her slumped little form at the edge of the lake. She had no clothing of her own, and wore one of my shirts which hung to just below her knees – she was so small! When I went to her, she had her knees drawn to her chest inside the warmth of the shirt, sitting with her hands about them curled into a sort of ball. Her chin rested atop her knees, and her wide brown eyes looked out across the lake, candlelight reflected in them. She did not look up as I approached, and I almost feared disturbing her, she looked so deep in thought. Slowly I lowered myself, stooping beside her and looking across the lake myself, as I had done many times. I said not a word, thinking that she would speak if she desired to tell me what weighed so heavy on her poor heart.

“What am I to do?” She said at last. I glanced at her only to find her gaze still transfixed over the waters. I asked what she meant; knowing full well what was to come. “I cannot stay here forever,” she said quietly. At this a tear broke and slid down the cheek facing me. I swallowed against the clutching grief in my chest. She was not happy, and how could I have been foolish enough to think she was? How could I have allowed her to remain? No doubt she had done so to repay the debt she felt she owed me. Little did she know that I had received just as much benefit in return. A portion of goodness had returned to my heart, as caring for her had somehow healed me as well. And what had I thought to do? Keep her here as my darling little pet for the rest of her life? I felt shame wash over me as I looked back out over the lake. No matter how I tried to live right and do as my conscience willed me, it seemed I always fell short. I hated myself for it.

“You are free to go at anytime you wish,” I said the words in an effort to be comforting, but I sounded clipped and bitter, because in my selfish heart I wanted her to stay. And in the darker recesses of my being I felt betrayed, though my logic said I had no justification for feeling so. I put myself on trial in that instant, weighing the contradicting forces within my mind, heart and soul, and the verdict was clear. The mind convicted the heart and soul as guilty. Leave this child alone, the mind said, you must let her go.

“But where?” She turned then to look directly into my eyes. “Where am I to go?” I had no answer for this as I hadn’t had the sense to review her options. Where would she go? The thought made a fierce protective nature well up in my chest, and I instinctively reached a hand out and placed it tenderly on her rounded back. I could feel her spine through the thin fabric of the shirt, and the faint shiver that I hoped was from the cold, but feared was from my touch, so I removed my hand. “Lachenel will kill me if he finds me,” she said, returning her chin to her knees and allowing another tear to stream down her face. “And I have no one else,” she turned her face to me, not lifting her chin. She looked so innocent and helpless. “All I have is you, Erik.”

Oh at this I thought I would surely die! My heart strained against my chest and it took every shred of self control I possessed not to gather her to me and hold her tight against my chest. Tiny as she was, I felt I could tuck her into my shirt and carry her there next to my beating heart forever, shielding her from the cruel world. At the same instant, with such tender and loving thoughts, I felt a rise of tumultuous rage against the loathsome head groom.

“I will deal with Lachenel,” I said bluntly. I stood then, looking down on Maddy, still huddled and full of tears. “I will not allow him – anyone – to hurt you again.” She looked back at me like a trembling fawn, and I could resist the urge in me no longer. I stooped once again, touching her face with my fingers, feeling the softness of her skin and nearly losing my breath at the heavenly sensation that coursed through me as a result. “Maddy,” her name escaped my lips in a whisper that was barely able to be heard, but she leaned against my hand and closed her eyes. She said my name in return, and covered my hand with hers, holding it flush to her cheek. I reached for her then, slipping my arms around her tiny waist and feeling her wrap her arms about my neck. I lifted her from the ground and cradled her against me like a babe, my mouth resting against the top of her short cropped hair. She was limp, her body completely relaxed in my grip, her head resting against my chest.

“I can hear your heartbeat,” she said softly as I carried her to the bed. I laid her down, placing a kiss on her forehead and pulling the coverlet over her. I sat then, looking down at her for some time without speaking. She looked back at me, with what appeared to be adoration, though I can hardly imagine it was so. My mind raced with thoughts of killing Lachenel, and finding Maddy a safe haven outside of my private hell, as much as it pained me to think of her leaving.

“Sleep,” I said brushing the back of my hand down her tear stained cheek. “I will return to you soon. I’ve some business to attend to.” I stood quickly and went for my cloak, swirling it about my shoulders and clasping it. I was pulling my gloves over my hands when she sat up and called my name.

“Don’t kill Lachenel,” she said. At this I stopped, one hand gloved, the other still bare. Not kill him? Why not? I most certainly planned to kill him. But she continued. “It will only bring trouble on you. Please, don’t kill him.” Her words vexed me, possibly because they were so wise. A death would bring unwanted attentions to me once again. The occasional missing prop (or horse, as the case may be), and a falling flat from time to time, was one thing. Death would be harder to overlook. It had been a long time since I had killed, and though my nature demanded me to do it, to seek revenge for the suffering of the sweet soul now begging me to show mercy, I hesitantly nodded my head, broken by the soft spoken word of a trembling woman.

“As you wish,” I said, almost bowing my head to her. It was then, that very moment that I realized how deep my weakness ran. For as strong as the raging desire to kill Lachenel, as much as I craved to watch life eek from his struggling body, to feel the power in my hands as I took his last breath, I could not refuse her request. I stood as her servant, head ducked as though in shame, like a child who had been reprimanded for evil deeds not yet done. I wondered for a moment what had become of me. How had I managed to get to this lowly state? When did my will stop being my own? And how was it that a frail woman, weakened by abuse and torment, had so much power over me? I thought of the whore Monique, and surmised that the two instances were not so different. For as powerful as I thought myself to be, there were things even I could not resist.

Maddy lay back onto the bed satisfied that I meant to honor her request. I put on my remaining glove and then stood in silence, staring towards the bed as though awaiting permission to leave. When I saw the gentle rise and fall of her body in sleep, I turned and went to my desk. Drawing out a sheet of parchment and a dipping my quill in the ink, I carefully scrawled a brief note to my managers calling for the immediate dismissal of the head groom. I signed it, sealed it and slipped it into my breast pocket. Carefully I stepped into the waiting boat, pushed from the shore with my staff and headed off to find Madame Giry above stairs. She would have the answers I needed.
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Memoirs of a Monster