Author's Note:

Dear Readers,

I was inspired to write this one-shot after reading a short story on Fanfiction.net. I simply couldn't leave the idea alone. So, here is your "little" one-shot. I hadn't intended for it to be THIS long.

sarahlet2999

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Summery:

After finishing his book Phantom of the Opera, Gaston Leroux decided to do a little more investigating into this "ghost" business. He still thought it to be a bit of a fairy tale but still thought it worth his while to look into the last lead. Soon, he learns it wasn't a fairy tale.

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Gaston's Leroux's POV:

I descended into the darkness of the cellars. Deep down I knew my trip would be foolish. It was just a tale. Just a myth. But, something lured me down there. It had to be simple curiosity to see something few had ever seen.

My shoes made not much noise as I went into the bowels of the earth. It was dark and even my lantern couldn't penetrate it. I felt eyes on me. I shook my head, convincing myself it was simply my overactive imagination. More than once I courted the idea of leaving the place but I quickly changed my mind everything time the thought crossed it.

I had made my choice. I would descend until the fifth cellar and see if everything was as it was rumored to be.

It took me close to two hours to reach the fifth cellar. I wasn't a coward. No, I had always prided myself on my courage. But, this unending darkness that oppressed those from the light who dared to venture into it.

Yes, I decided I must be going mad. I spoke of the darkness as if it was alive. I was going mad. I knew I had to be mad when suddenly, from the darkness, a calm voice spoke.

"Monsieur, are you lost?" I glanced around, searching for the voice until I saw a light moving towards me. If the light hadn't been attached to the voice I would have run towards it but knowing something was with it, well, frightened me. I was starting to believe the legends I had heard.

There didn't seem to be a face with the light until it grew closer and I nearly gasped as the face I did see.

It was the face of a woman.

She couldn't have been more than fifteen with blazing red hair and hazel eyes that almost glowed. Her voice was deep. If she had been a singer she would have been an alto. If she hadn't such a low speaking voice I would have been at ease much quicker. But, as it was, I was now relaxed. This pretty girl couldn't be the phantom. It was impossible.

"Ma'am, I don't know if I am lost. I'm seeking this ghost everything speaks of." I decided to be blunt with the girl. She looked at me and then at the ground. Then back at me.

"Monsieur, Mama will want to speak to you before Daddy gets home." I looked at her, very much confused. I had spoken of ghosts but she spoke of parents. She turned her back and began to walk away, halting to see if I was following her. I was. Perhaps her mother knew something of the ghost.

We continued to walk until we reached a lake. Lamps burned on what looked like a pier. I followed the girl as she walked out onto it. She extinguished her torch and laid it on the pier before stepping into a small gondola.

She made gestures for me to follow and I did nervously. I hated vessels of any kind. Not only did I get seasick often but the thought of not having solid ground beneath me frightened me.

We pushed off and again we were in the oppressive darkness. I felt as if I could taste the darkness around me. I turned around to see if I could see the girl but all I saw were two hazel eyes shining in the darkness. I quickly turned back around. The girl giggled.

"Forgive me, Monsieur, I often forget my eyes glow in the dark." She seemed to alright with my edginess and it made me more comfortable. The silence was almost as oppressing as the darkness. I had no idea how long this boat ride would go on so I spoke again, just for my own sanity.

"Where exactly are you taking me?" I tried to be as polite as I could.

"You wish to learn of the ghost that haunts this place?" I nodded then a moment later realized she couldn't see me nod. I was about to speak when she spoke.

"I saw you nod. I can see in the dark." She seemed quite proud of that claim. Before I had a chance to remark on the strange statement, she spoke again. "If you wish to learn of the ghost then you need to speak with my mama." I thought for a moment before asking,

"Is your mama the ghost?" The girl laughed and could barely contain it.

"My mama? The ghost? How ridiculous! Of course she isn't. She is my mama. My father's truest love." I could almost feel the girl's smile as she thought of her parents. What surprised me was how at home she felt down here. The girl must have grown up down here. Grown up in oppressing darkness... what life was that for a girl. A pretty one at that.

I had so many questions to ask. Most of all, was how on earth did a family live down here? In the darkness. I could only hope all my questions would be answered upon meeting this girl's mother.

A few minutes later the boat docked and I saw a dimly lit island. On it, sat a perfect little home. It would have fit into any neighborhood as a perfect little place to raise a family. But, why was it down here? Beneath the earth? Away from the sunlight? Two torches burned around what I guessed was a front door.

I got out of the boat and the girl tied it up to the pier before walking towards the door. In the new found light of the torches reflexing off the white paint of the house, I saw the girl was wearing trousers. I was appalled for a moment before realizing it was the most practical thing for a life down here. Skirts, petticoats, and dresses in general would have made comfortable life almost impossible.

The girl opened the door and beckoned me inside. The room I found myself in was so normal that it shocked me. It was a pretty room. Decorated with taste and some sense of elegance. A piano was against a yellow patterned wall and several chairs and couches surrounded a fireplace that had burned out a few hours before.

The girl led me through another door and into what appeared to be a dining room. The normality of this home was almost more than I could stand. Its very normality was what made it so strange. The girl stood still for a moment before grinning and turning to lead me towards a door at the end of the dining room.

Her voice rang out clear as she said,

"Mama, we have a visitor." The door she was looking at, opened and from it emerged a gorgeous woman. She was somewhat tall with a find figure and graceful movements. What quickly struck me was her clothing choice. She also wore trousers. I brushed away the thoughts of the lack of dignity that brought on her. There was no doubt this was a woman of good breeding. The lift of her head and the movement in her step spoke of years as someone of some high pedigree despite her clothing choices.

Her hair was exactly the same shade as her daughter but her eyes were green while her daughter's were hazel. Her mother was slim but nothing like her daughter and I couldn't help but admire how the woman carried herself as she walked towards us.

She gave her daughter a kind smile and then gave one to me. I returned it with a smile of my own.

"Good evening, Monsieur. What brings you this far into the earth?" I decided to be straight to the point again and said kindly,

"I have come to learn of the ghost that supposedly haunts this place." The mother's face paled instantly. Her eyes closed then reopened.

"Monsieur, I fear you have come to the right place. But, I am not the person who has the right to tell you. It is my husband who must tell you. For..." She trailed off and didn't continue. Her smile had faded and I felt horrible for taking that away from her. It was by far her most beautiful feature.

She glanced at me and the smile returned.

"Forgive me, I have not introduced myself. I am Marvella Mulheim. This is my daughter Angelica Mulheim." I smiled and bowed politely to both of them.

"A pleasure to meet you, Madam Mulheim. My name is Gaston Leroux." She smiled and curtsied. It looked a little odd considering she was wearing trousers but I ignored the oddness. Actually, I was kind of grateful something wasn't quite right about this place. If it had all been normal, I might have gone mad. My mind had been expecting something quite different then a quaint little house on the edge of a lake.

The woman looked at Angelica and said,

"Go fetch your brother. I know that he is probably hard at work on his projects but fetch him." An eyebrow raised when I heard of a second child. I had thought there was only the girl.

"My son Rodrick is a very solitary person, so much like his father, that I often don't see him that often. It will do him good to speak for once." This was a very odd family I was finding. A mother and daughter who wore trousers, a boy who was solitary and barely spoke, and this husband who's name I had yet to know but who I gathered wasn't quite like most. I was beginning to wonder if this was such a fine idea to come here.

Angelica returned some moments later with a boy behind her, grumbling.

"Why did you drag me away from my work? You know I don't like it!" I would have smiled as it was a perfectly normal thing for a studious boy to say but something kept me from smiling. A mask.

The boy wore a mask.

A mask.

Everything but his lips and eyes were covered. Eyes that were pure gold and lips that were thin and almost invisible.

"Rodrick, I want you to meet Monsieur Leroux. He has come to learn of the ghost." The boy's eyes widened.

"You have come to learn of the ghost?" He repeated but more to himself as if to confirm the words. "Watch your step, Monsieur, for it is a touchy subject with my father. You were fortunate you didn't meet him in the labyrinth." He turned on his heel and walked away.

I glanced at his mother and she smiled.

"He takes too much after his father." Quickly she shook her head to clear it and spoke again, "Why don't we go sit in the drawing room. I'm sure you're tired. It is a long journey here." She led me into the room through which I had first arrived. After taking the offered seat, I tried to smile at her again. She sat as well, and folded her hands in her lap. We were silent for a moment. I suddenly broke the silence.

"Forgive me if I have caused any of your family undue discomfort. I had come down here expecting nothing. I didn't expect to find this..." I waved my hands around me at the room I was in. Madam Mulheim laughed.

"Of course. No one knows we live here. No one but a few. Now, tell me what you know of this ghost?" I told her all I knew of the tragic romance between the ghost and a soprano named Christine. Once I was done with the tale, I said, "But, that is all I know. I need proof that it actually happened. All who I have spoken have sworn it but I need proof."

The woman looked at her hands.

"It is true. There was a ghost. Note: I said was. My husband will explain when he comes. Indeed, I believe I hear him arriving." She stood up and walked towards the door which led to the dining room.

"Monsieur Leroux, if you value your life don't anger my husband. He is a dangerous man when angered. I will explain it to him before he comes. Don't leave the place where you sit." She walked out of the room. I had heard nothing but I assumed she had.

I did as she said, with my hands on my knees. The more I heard of this husband the more I grew worried. She said, "if I valued my life". What did that mean? I knew she wasn't kidding though. The woman wouldn't joke about her own husband.

I heard voices from somewhere in the house. One was of Madam Mulheim and the other... oh! The other! I thought I had heard the voice of an angel the moment I heard it. I could only guess it was this husband of hers.

I knew I wouldn't have long to wait as I heard a footsteps heading towards the room. My eyes were drawn to the door as it opened. Madam Mulheim walked through and following her was someone or something I never could have guessed. He was tall. Over six feet five inches. A white mask covered his face from his forehead to his chin and only two holes were in it for his eyes. Oh, those eyes. I had thought his son's eyes were golden but these put those to shame. They glowed even in the light of the candles that were in the room.

He was exceptionally gaunt and moved like a cat as he found a seat near his wife and away from me. Those eyes were still fixed on me even after he had sat down. Madam Mulheim looked a little uncomfortable as she said,

"Monsieur Leroux, may I introduce my husband, Erik Mulheim." I gave him a smile and he nodded slightly.

"It's a pleasure, Monsieur Mulheim." I said politely.

"I'm sure." He snapped a bit. There was that beautiful voice again. Even in irritation it was still beautiful. He settled back in his chair but eyed me uncomfortably. I cleared my throat and spoke up.

"Madam Mulheim said that I should ask you about the ghost." He keep looking at me steadily and nodded.

"Who better than to ask than the ghost himself?" He said calmly as he stretched his long legs out to make himself more comfortable.

My jaw dropped.

He was the ghost!

The ghost was flesh and blood!

He chuckled as he saw my expression. I didn't have time to focus on the beauty of the laugh as the shock was still in full force.

"I assure you, Monsieur Leroux, I am the ghost. Yes, the ghost has flesh and blood. Very little flesh but it is there nevertheless." He laughed a little at his own joke. I nodded dumbly. He stood up and after walking over to the fireplace, knelt down to light it. It was a normal action. A normal action a normal man would perform. But, this was a ghost. No, this was a man known as a ghost.

My head started to wrap around the newfound information and completely process it. The shock was wearing off and I was beginning to understand.

"Now, why are you here and why are you looking for me? Or, at least, information about me?" I managed to explain all my reasons, though I wished I could see his face while I did it. I was hating that mask that covered his whole face. A man's face was a window into his soul. I wanted to see what this man was thinking and feeling right now. It annoyed me that I couldn't.

When I was done, he was completely still. Then, he spoke. His voice was calm and I was instantly glad I hadn't angered him.

"All that you said is true. Except for the last little bit. I am not dead." I smiled a little. I knew the moment I saw him that I wasn't right about that.

"So, you're writing a book on that little fiasco with myself and..." He almost spat out her name. "Christine." I nodded.

"I now see I wasn't completely correct and my story isn't completed. Do I have your permission-" I didn't even have time to finish my sentence before he raised a hand. A skeleton hand.

"No, you do not. Let my story rest with the words, 'Erik is dead'. Perhaps it is best." I looked completely confused. He chuckled and the mask shifted on his face. I realized he was smiling. "Everyone thinks I'm dead. Let them think that. Besides, people of the light enjoy a good story about the darkness companioned with an unhappy ending." He turned to Madam Mulheim. "What do you think, mon amour?"

She smiled and took his hand. I couldn't help but notice the difference between them. One normal and the other skeletal. It was a little unsettling but I ignored the feeling.

"Whatever you wish, mon fantome." I couldn't help but smile as I heard pure love in her voice. "It is your life and your past. I don't care if I'm never known. In fact, I would prefer it." He smiled and I could tell he would have kissed her if it wasn't for my presence.

"Then, it is settled. Leave your tale as it is. It is enough." The ghost said. I nodded. I understood. Well, understood enough. I rose and looked at the pair.

"Might I ask how you two met? To satisfy my own curiosity." Monsieur Mulheim looked at his wife then back at me.

"I suppose we have time for a shortened version." We all sat down and he began to tell.

It seemed that a few weeks after Christine's departure he had been nearly dead but decided before he died to look around the surface for one last time. There, in his words "I ran into an angel." It seems he had literally run into her while on the streets. She hadn't screamed when she saw him in his mask and dark clothing but profusely apologized for running into him. Somehow a conversation started. He had learned her name was Marvella Mulheim.

Here I interrupted him.

"But I thought your last name was Mulheim." He shook his head.

"I never knew my name. Neither my first nor my last. I took on the name Erik because I had to have a name of some kind. I simply took on her last name when we married."

The story went on from there.

He told of the secret meetings his beautiful lover had been forced to do so they would remain unknown. She had been young then, only twenty five. She had kept him alive for two years as he feel more and more madly in love with her. Even though he had sworn never to love again.

She too fell harder and harder for him until at least they had confessed their love and decided to be married. It had been a hasty marriage as her father was planning a wedding for her already with a count of some renown.

"I wrote a suicide note to my family declaring I couldn't marry the count and fled my family's ancestral home. We were married in a very secluded place and I knew our marriage wasn't likely to reach my parent's ears. It never did. They all assumed I was dead." She looked down at her hands. "When I became pregnant with Angelica I knew I couldn't keep my existence a secret from them anymore." She wrung her hands together. "It took them years to accept that Erik was my husband. They finally did though. Finally. About the time Rodrick was born."

I knew that was end of their tale. The ghost had finally found someone to love. It was a comfort to me to know that. The public never would. Not unless I broke my word. Erik wordlessly assured me out of their home and back to the surface.

Every now and then, I go down into the bowels of the earth and share a cup of tea with the Mulheims. On one of those visits I saw Erik's face and since then, he hasn't ever worn it around me. I didn't much care how ugly it was.

I soon found that Erik was quite a brilliant man. A true genius. I never left his home without learning something new about the world that I didn't know before. I can't say I remember all of them but I remembered a good many.

It wasn't uncommon for him to ask how "his" book was coming along. I always had to reply that it did poorly. No one wished to read it. He nod and look sad for a moment before looking and Madam Mulheim and brightening.

"So be it." He would always say. "So be it."

It was my pleasure to assist their children in coming to the surface for schooling and then, marriage. I managed to match Angelica with a fine youth who adored her with all his heart. Rodrick also married happily.

I never once regretted going into the bowels of the earth to find the ghost. No, I had made four wonderful friends because of it. Four strange friends but friends nevertheless.