Greetings and hello again. Please don't ask were I've been. Lets just say I'm back. And I've got a new story. Hopefully this one is more promising. Ok here we go. This is a Leroux-Kay book world. Not enough of them in my opinion.

Disclaimer: I don't own any the Phantom of the Opera

A thanks goes out to Experimental Madness for being my beta on this story and making it much better.

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Prologue

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She wasn't a killer. However she was associated even called, Death herself. In fact she had many names, Death, Grim Reaper, Grim, the Spectre of Death, Angeu, Giltinė, Yamaraj, The Fourth Horseman of the Apocalypse, He Who Rides the Pale Horse. Well, she did not ride a horse. Never had in fact. Wasn't even a male. The closest anyone had ever gotten to her given name was 'Angel of Death'.

Angela.

The name given to her at her birth.

Yes birth. But that seemed so long ago. But she was old. Older then most cities. She no longer even remembered when she was born. She did the job that was given to her. Neither world wanted her. She was too dark for Heaven, too good for Hell. She was stuck in Purgatory like many of the souls that awaited their judgment. She moved between her own Hell and the human world. She watched, but didn't interfere, though there had been special cases in which she gave humans a second chance at saving themselves.

She didn't go to every human. She waited at midnight, every night to gather the souls that had passed. They waited in a limbo until she gathered them. Her job was never done. For centuries it was the same thing until the year 1881.

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Chapter 1

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The whisperings sounded all around but the dark figure didn't pay them any mind. On she walked, knowing she was truly out of place. She had a job to do and was slightly annoyed that she was summoned to where she was not welcomed. Finally she came before the Council that sent for her. She was before at least a dozen beautiful angels.

They all had proud, soft, elegant looks upon their delicate faces that looked as though God had carved them from porcelain. The one nearest her, seated at the center of the table, was a woman, with light golden hair that shone with a light all its own.

She waited impatiently as they took their time. At last a sexless voice
rang out without the angel even moving her lips. "Angela, you look surprised to be here," the heavenly voice spoke, "Why?"

"I do have a job to do. I just wonder at what you want." Angela said.

"Why, Angela, do you not know? This is the Great Bridge, where souls come before they are sent either to the glorious Heaven, or the deep abyss of Hell," the voice answered.

"I know that. That is your job. All I do is tally all the lives that die. And humans die all the time. I just send them on to you. Whom ever goes to Hell, well, my father deals with them." She retorted angrily pushing the hood back, her complete black eyes staring out.

"There is one that fancies himself as your apprentice of death.

"I have no apprentice." Angela protested. She was appalled. She had no partner, no apprentice, only minions.

"We know. And the fact that we granted him genius and the gift of music, he has misused it in many ways. Judgment on whether or not to grant his soul salvation from his sins should be given shortly. The Council is still deciding."

"What has this has to do with me? Like I said all those Hell destined go to my father. I only gather the souls." Angela said rather annoyed.

"We want you to go to him. Give him one last chance."

Angela sighed. This day was just getting better and better. "I have other things to do. Playing the part of the seducer is, again, my father's job. I only gather souls. He is not dead is he? Then I don't step in until he is."

"As you know some humans are rather powerful. He is one. He has achieved great things and still can but one thing is holding him back. The love of a young girl. She is not destined to be with him. We have great plans for him. She is only a distraction, one that he cannot afford. We want you to go to him, turn him away from her and save him from himself and your father. He already has a claim out on his soul. We do not want this."

Angela thought on it. " Well…I won't say that it hasn't been done. As I remember the Council has saved or let me save very few people in such a way throughout all of eternity..."

"Correct. But he is special."

"Very well. I'll try."

"Excellent. He is located in Paris, France and goes by the name of Erik…"