Erik

Very true.

Is this what you wanted to see?

//He’s not a touchy guy 🤣

“WH-AAAGH!! No! No touching!”

*Shrieks. That is all.*

Perhaps not tonight, though. He should, apparently, sleep.

Indeed, he does. She is most welcome to visit any time she wishes. The samovar is perpetually bubbling.

“Hmm? Oh.. Thank you.”

“If.”

Quite possibly. I have found it happens occasionally.

Yes. Yes, it is.

He smiled softly, sighing as the sun’s gentle rays crept across his skin, seeming to caress and warm his corpse-like features. ‬
‪He felt safe there. As safe, and secure as he did below ground, now basking in the light. ‬

lofty vantage point, nestled into Apollo’s Lyre. ‬

‪ Once certain he was settled, he slowly, carefully, prised his precious porcelain away from his face, and set it into his lap.

All around, the city was bathed in the soft glow of dawn; the sun’s golden rays glittering on the city’s many windows. There seemed to be a few people milling around. A baker setting off to bake the day’s bread. The milkman and his cart. He watched them quietly from his

The soft, golden light of dawn began to filter down into the labyrinth as he slowly‪ ‬ascended.
Leaving his lantern at the door, the Opera Ghost emerged into‪ ‬the light; inhaling the warm, summer air‪ deep into his lungs. ‬
‪Heaven. ‬
‪

All, indeed, was still. All except for the man most had come to know as the opera ghost.
Erik had awoken early, and had already begun to make his way through his labyrinth of tunnels and secret passages up to the roof of the populaire.

‪Silence rang out through the Opéra Populaire. The corps de ballet still slept soundly in their beds, and the front of house staff had not yet arrived to start their day.‬

aiming squarely at the boy’s skull.

Another crack of the bullwhip. The second blow almost took his breath away.

“Up. Now.”

A gruff, rumbling command from a large, balding man, with a beer-belly and a salt and pepper beard. A set of iron keys hung from his belt and he cocked the pistol in his free hand,

A sharp crack reverberated through the crisp January air, shortly followed by a burning, stinging pain across his shoulders.

Erik awoke with a start. His pained breath was clearly visible, rapidly condensing into clouds as he groped around the floor for his mask.

He was doing his absolute best to ignore the display.
The main priority was simply to remain upright.

“‘M.. fine..”

The shade began to sway a little. Erik was struggling to concentrate through the ringing in his ears.

Erik couldn’t really answer. He’d not met anyone else yet. He did, however, wish Zuli would stop staring at him.

“It is better than the cage.”

New?

“You could say that, yes.”

The man remained quiet, his attention back on the shade.

He would give the world to use it himself. Instead, he was trying his best to remain upright.

Erik nodded gently and steeled himself with a breath.

He set the shade down in such a way that it would still serve its purpose as his trembling hands poured a cup from the pot.

@beautifulbutevil.bsky.social

His yellowed eyes remained downcast as he spoke. "Pardon me, Sir; would you like any tea?"