I sadly don't own the Phantom or any other characters created by G. Leroux, S. Kay and A. L. Webber, but they always have a place in my heart.

THE CHURCH

„It's over now the music of the night! "

The Phantom broke the mirror, revealing a secret passage. He stepped through into the unlit corridor and covered the entrance with a velvet curtain hanging next to it. No one entering the underground cave would assume that one of the many curtains hid a secret exit. He had left his white mask for the mob to find, giving fuel to the mystery that was considered the Opera Ghost.

His life had lost its meaning, now that Christine was gone, but he had no wish to die at the hands of a furious mob out for revenge, nor being put on display at a trial for the crimes he had committed.

After the Phantom had left his lair, he walked through the secret tunnels under the building and finally exited at Rue Scribe. Turning around, he cast one last look at the burning Opera house. The one place that had been his home for years, the magnificent building he had helped to construct, now stood in flames and was lost to him forever.

Trying to avoid the crowd that was drawn to the site of the catastrophe, he crossed the street and slipped into a small alley, creeping from shadow to shadow so that not even the dim light of the street lamps could illuminate his distorted face.

The Phantom thought about taking his life there and then, but he had survived so much; the gypsies, the Shah and the Khanum, he would not lose his will to live over the unrequited love for a young woman.

He had quite a lot of money saved from the salary the owners of the Opera Populaire had paid him, but in the middle of the night he had no way to get to it, and no place to stay.

Passing by the small church of Saint-Philippe-du-Roule, he decided to spend the night in there. Nearly laughing out loud at the irony of the 'devil's child' seeking shelter in the house of God, he silently opened the door and slipped in the shadow.

Only a few candles burned in front of a statue of Mary and her Son, the rest of the church was cast in shadow. With his good night vision he searched for a place to rest a few hours. Deciding on a small draped side altar near the confessional, he crept along the left side of the church towards his destination.

A creak in the wood in one of the pews on the right, followed by a sigh made him stop in his tracks. He hadn't noticed that he was not alone. Which wasn't a good sign; he chided himself, being on the run from the authorities and not being aware of his surroundings.

Not sure whether to investigate or ignore the noises coming from the other side of the church, another sniff drew his attention again to the pews lying in the dark. Making up his mind, the Phantom used the protection of the shadows to approach the originator of the noise.

Drawing closer, he registered a female voice.

"Heaven help me, but I don't know what to do! My birthday is in 2 days and I still haven't found anyone! I'd even marry a beggar by now."

Not quite understanding what the woman was on about, but definitely curious, the Phantom sat himself down a few pews behind her. Even with his good sight he still could only make out her outlines. Her body was shivering, probably because of the tears she shed. She seemed to be severely distraught.

"I wish father came back to end this. Why would he do that do me?" the woman continued. She blew in her handkerchief, then shook her head desolately. "God, I sound desperate."

Before he knew what he was doing the words came out of his mouth. "Yes, you do."