Hi! So I said that the last chapter would be the last one for a while, but I just couldn't let you guys wait on an ending like that- I thought this chapter would be a little sweeter and crueler- lol, I know I'm horrible! Thank you to everyone for the kind and awesome feedback for the story! This may or may not be the last chapter that I can post before finals begin this week, but after that I will be back to writing and you all shall be expecting ALOT of Eris!


"If, in two minutes, mademoiselle, you have not turned the scorpion, I shall turn the grasshopper … and the grasshopper, I tell you, HOPS JOLLY HIGH!"

-Gaston Leroux

The clang of the stage door closing behind her sounded like an iron gate that was locking her in. Tris stood silent for a moment, holding the oil lamp with a shaky hand and observing the never-ending darkness that stood before her. She was alone; no one chose to follow her for they were too afraid, and Tris could hear a tiny voice in her head telling her how foolish it was for her to go into the unknown all by herself.

But her father needed her. He was down there somewhere, she could feel it. He could be hurt, he could be trapped, he could be lost in the shadows. She had to find him, she had to save him, he was all she had left in the world. She said a silent prayer, took another deep breath, and ventured into the dark unknown.


"She's…she's here!" Uriah cried out happily. Despite his large size, he was jumping around like a joyful child at Christmas, grinning from side to side.

Marlene, who had fallen asleep near the spinning wheel that only a little while ago they had gone to fetch, awoke with a start to Uriah's jovial dancing.

"She's here, Marlene!" he cried, grasping the limp doll like woman up into his large thick arms. "She's come at last!"

Marlene squealed when she felt her feet lift off the ground.

"Uriah! Put me down at once!" she cried, preferring to be dropped than crushed to death by the exuberant hunchback. He blushed and then immediately placed the tiny woman back on the ground, but his grin never disappeared. Marlene straightened herself. "What on earth are you talking about?"

Uriah found himself dancing again. "The gypsy girl! I…I know it's her!"

Marlene sighed, regretting for allowing Will to tell Uriah that story in the first place, especially since she asked him to lie about the ending. "Uriah, that's only a story, there is no-"

"NO!" he shouted, his smile disappearing. "I saw her! She's here! She's wandering near the old prop room!"

Marlene stared up at him, her brow furrowed. She knew Uriah could get carried away with the stories Will read to him, but this time was different. She could tell by simply looking into his eyes that it was true, he had seen a girl, and that the girl he had seen…was here.

"Near the old prop room?" she asked, feeling her limp feet listlessly carry her away from the cavern they had been occupying. Uriah simply nodded his head before giggling again. Marlene was glad that he was so happy, but her blood ran cold at the thought of the innocent woman becoming another victim of Erik's booby traps…or of Erik's rage.

"Come Uriah," she whispered. "Take me to her."


In a further cavern, Lynn sat by candlelight reading a newspaper. Will was currently working on his metallic arm and leg, tightening any screw that needed to be tightened or greased. He had a book laid out before, reading a chapter of out Frankenstein. Peter was sitting a few feet away, sharpening a knife on an old piece of leather. Now and then he would glance at the other man, rolling his eyes as he watched Will lean close to the book before him after finishing tweaking his limbs.

"How many times have you read that bloody thing?" Peter asked irritably. Will made no comment.

"Waste of time," Peter grunted. Lynn casted a glare at Peter and scoffed.

Without lifting his head, Will muttered, "I have nothing to say to you, so continue sharpening your toy and leave me to read in peace."

Peter casted Will and Lynn an angry glare. "What's wrong with you two?"

"You mean besides the countless times you mock how much he reads and his body?" Lynn muttered, without looking up from her paper. "How about…you running to the Master to snitch on the rest of us?"

Peter rolled his eyes and rose to his feet.

"The man was a trespasser! Does that not mean anything to you?" he threw his arms up in frustration. "Tell me something Lynn and Will, did you like the carnival? Did you like performing for those fops and being called names? Because I know I didn't! And I am never going back there!"

Will sighed. "The man only wanted a spinning wheel-"

"And the second he came back to the surface, he would tell everyone about us down here and a mob would be after us in a second! Think what you two would like, but you're wrong! I for one share the Master's feelings, I for one will not go against the Master's orders! I-"

"Father?"

The word was soft and distant, but it rang out loud and clear for the trio who were silenced immediately upon hearing it.

"What the hell was that?" Peter asked, whirling his head around the cavern.

Silence, and then another call. "Father?" This time it sounded closer.

"Sounds like…a girl?" Lynn whispered, putting down her paper and rising from her seat.

"A GIRL!" Peter exclaimed, his eyes widening with horror. "Are we to have no peace? How are these people finding us!"

"Quiet!" Will ordered, before dragging his feet to the opening. Both he, Lynn, and Will moved to a crack in the cavern wall, peering out to see if the voice was coming from that direction.

Sure enough, after a few seconds, a small light appeared in the distance, and with it, another cry. "Father? Can you hear me? Are you there?"

"It is a girl…" Will whispered.

"I KNOW WHAT IT IS!" Peter exploded. "WHAT I WANT TO KNOW IS HOW DO WE GET RID OF IT!"

Will winced to Peter's cries, and then paled when he heard, "Father? Is that…you?"

"See what you've done!" Will and Lynn hissed. "She's heading this way!"

"No…I…I'm not going back there…I'm never going back there!" Peter mumbled, stepping back frantically and stumbling.

"Get a hold of yourself!" Lynn snapped.

But it was no use. Despite Will and Lynn's attempt to calm him, Peter rose to his feet and immediately took off down a dark passage wailing for the Master. Damn!

"Father?" Will and Lynn froze; the voice was nearly there! They quickly dispersed, leaving their book, newspaper, and tool shed.

Tris heard the sound of…feet? She wasn't sure, but she quickly followed the sound, especially as she heard the sound moving faster.

"Wait!" she cried out. "Please, I'm trying to find my father! Please! I-"

She entered the cavern and saw the small candle glowing as brightly as it could, lying next to an open copy of Frankenstein and a discarded newspaper. Someone was here. It could have been her father, but…why would he run from her? The shuffling sound echoed off a cavern wall, coming from a dark tunnel; Tris took off after it.

"Father! Please! Don't run away, I just want to find my father, Andrew Prior! Please! I-"

"Beatrice?"

Tris froze as her father's voice filled her ears. He was alive. He was here!

"Father!" she cried, whirling around the darkness, trying to find him. She lifted her lamp, which was quickly running out of oil, to try and spot him. His voice sounded so faint, she could hear his ragged breathing, which was interrupted by violent coughs. "Father, where are you? I can't see…"

"It…doesn't…matter!" he said through his coughs. "You must…get yourself out of here!"

She continued to look around, and finally, in a tiny corner of the stone floor, she saw a small iron grate, and her father's hands clinging to the bars.

"Father!" she cried, rushing over to the bars, falling to her knees, and immediately grasping a hold of the cold iron and attempting to force it open.

It was hopeless, the bars were too strong, and it was clear that the tiny door was locked. She looked down at her father, horrified to see him lying on his back in such a tiny space. His face was hidden by shadows, but his hands gripped the bars with all his strength. He was wet too, his body barely rising out of dark murky water that surrounded his prison. The space so was tiny, it was as if he were…buried.

"Beatrice-"

"Who's done this to you?" she asked angrily, placing the lamp down and seeking out a hairpin. She remembered from one of the gothic novels her mother had read to her about a woman who picked a lock with only a hairpin. She prayed that that part of the story was true.

"There's no time my dear, you must leave, now!"

"No! I'm not going to leave you down here like Caleb did to waste away in the earth!" she went to work with picking the lock, cursing the bitter cold for making her fingers clumsy.

"Beatrice, please, if you love me, you'll leave this place! He'll be here any second!"

"Who?" she asked, not stopping one second with the lock. It was the only way she could avoid allowing the fear to overtake her.

"The Phantom! He's real, Beatrice! He'll kill you for sure! He's-"

"…right behind you."

Tris froze. The voice was dark, lower than anything she had ever heard, and every hair on her skin stood on end at the deep growl that reverberated around the cavern walls. Before she could begin to turn her head, a strong hand grabbed her by the shoulder and whirled her around, so rapidly, that her oil lamp broke and she was encased in shadows.

"Who's there! What do you want with us?" She could hear movement, and felt a soft wind hit her face with each step.

"Who am I?" his voice was a deep sinister growl that sent freezing shivers down her spine. "Your father knows…"

"RUN BEATRICE! SAVE YOURSELF!" her father shouted.

Tris had never felt so frightened. She wanted to run, she wanted to flee for her life, but she couldn't abandon her father! She prayed for courage, prayed for resourcefulness, prayed for anything to have this…creature, show mercy upon both she and her father.

"Please let my father go…" she whispered. "He didn't mean any harm. It was all a mistake-"

"MISTAKE?" he shouted, causing the cavern walls to shake. "HE KNEW THE RULES! NO ONE IS ALLOWED DOWN HERE! NO ONE!"

The movement continued, and Tris bit her lip, forcing herself not to cry. She had to be brave!

"P-please…" she whispered. "My father…he'll catch his death if he stays in there…"

A dark menacing chuckle came from the Phantom's lips.

"Catch his death?" he chuckled some more. "My dear…I am death."

The chuckles were more than Tris could take. She found her own anger flaring up at the sound of the laughter, at the sound of someone mocking her concern for the life of another human being. She bolted to her feet and squared her shoulders. "You want to punish someone so badly for breaking your rules? Fine! TAKE ME!"

The Phantom's laughter ceased. There was a long pause of silence before Andrew cried in protest. "Beatrice! W-w-what are you saying? Don't do this!"

The Phantom looked at the woman before him. After years of living in darkness his eyes had adapted to the point of where he could see so clearly through shadow. Indeed, he had never seen the costume girl like this. She was small; the top of her head would come just below his collar. But she was no waif-like creature. She looked strong for someone so small, and his eyes began raking up and down her body. She wore a simple dull grey dress, which lacked lace and ruffles. She was stick thin, though he did however notice that there were some curves hidden within the frumpy dress. Her hair was blonde, cascading down her shoulders and had no curls or waves to it that was common for women around Paris. Her hair was straight and framed her narrow face and long neck, with a long, thin nose and rosy cheeks that lacked the over-zealous amount of make-up that Jeanine threw upon herself. Her eyes were wide and round, a grayish-blue, that right now held a fire within them. She wasn't exactly the textbook definition of beautiful and looked rather like a child trying to be a woman, but Eric couldn't pinpoint what was it that he found intriguing about her. Of course he knew she was spirited, he had witnessed that several times now since she came to his theater. Indeed…having her as his personal slave was not an idea he was against. He moved around her, knowing she could not see him, but enjoying how she looked for him whenever she felt the breeze billowing off his long overcoat.

"Do you know what you are asking?" he whispered darkly.

Tris lifted her chin. "Yes."

"Are you sure?" he asked, his fingers reaching out and with the touch that felt like a soft wind, brushing against her hair. "Because there's no going back. You do this, you can never return. You'll be mine…forever."

Tris felt a lump rise in her throat. Trapped for all eternity in this hell, with no sunlight, no love…nothing. But a protesting cough that escaped her father's lips resolved Tris' decision.

"You have my word," she said with a shaky voice. "I will stay and take his place."

"NO BEATRICE! NO!"

The Phantom breathed out a heavy sigh, amazed that he had been on tenterhooks while awaiting her decision.

"Then it's done," he growled, removing a key from his pocket and quickly unlocking the small prison door that contained her father.

Tris crumpled to the floor, gasping as the weight of what just took place overcame her. She had agreed to be this creature's prisoner, his…his slave, for…who knows what. She trembled at the thought and felt the bile rise in her throat.

"Tris! What have you done?" she felt her father's arms envelope her from behind, and she turned to cling to him. "I've lived my life, and you're still young with so much ahead of you! Please, don't do this, I-"

He was yanked out of her arms violently by the unseen Phantom before Tris had the opportunity to say anything.

"Wait!" she cried to the darkness, her hands seeking out her father, but finding nothing. "Please! Let me say goodbye!" But her pleas fell on death ears.

"PETER!" the Phantom bellowed. The man immediately appeared, and the Phantom pushed Andrew into his arms.

"Take him away," he growled.

"NO! Please! Spare my daughter! Take me back!" Andrew wailed.

Peter was still in shock. "Take him away? You mean…release him? Master, are you sure that's wise?"

One glare from the Phantom said everything Peter needed to know. He quickly dragged the screaming man away, leaving the Phantom alone with his silent captive.

Tris was numb. She lay in a crumpled heap on the cavern floor, her breathing slow and uneven. Did this just happen? Did not that morning her father rouse her out of bed, happy and excited for the opening gala that would be taking place? Was it not a week ago that they had come to Paris with such high hopes? She had lost her father; she had lost everything she had ever dreamed for. She was truly alone.

The Phantom looked at the woman who lay on the floor before him. She seemed so small and fragile compared to the other times he had seen her. The spirit he admired was gone. He had at least expected the girl to be lost in hysterics, sobbing endlessly or attacking him with what strength she had. But this was not what he expected, this mute shell of a woman. She simply lay there, lifeless, save for the odd sounds that her breathing made. Taking a closer look, he scrunitzed upon her blank face, furrowing his eyebrows together in concentration. He felt the wheels of his memory turning, trying to place her where he had seen her. His mind blank and foggy, but he could make out a shape of a child kneeling before him…. No, this couldn't be…

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he glared at her. Now what? Should he approach her? If he did, what then? The prison he had placed her father was an ancient torture chamber where the victim was boxed in a tiny space, while water slowly flooded into the area, bringing the agonizing reality that the person trapped would soon drown. He couldn't put her in there, although she was a trespasser and deserved death like all the others. But he had never killed a woman; frightened a few into insanity he was sure, but he had never killed one.

Clearly he hadn't thought this plan through, however, to his credit, it had landed upon him out of nowhere. He had to do something with her, he just couldn't leave her there with the opportunity to escape; she would wind up killing herself from one of his elaborate booby traps.

Women; he was beginning to understand why he never got involved with them; they were too much of a hassle to try and figure out what to do with!

"Marlene," he muttered. The doll like woman appeared at the sound of her name. "Take the girl…to the Southern chamber."

Marlene stared up at him. "But Master, you can't be serious…that's where the costume cages are kept-"

"Exactly," he simply said. "Place her in one of those until I decide what to do with her. Or at least till the opera is finished."

Marlene couldn't believe what she was hearing. "You're going back to the opera?"

The Phantom looked down at the woman, wondering why the shock in her voice. "It's opening night Marlene; I must see that everything is going as it should."

"BUT…THE GIRL!" she shouted. Tris still lay lifeless on the ground, not even flinching to the conversation taking place.

"Master…you cannot leave, not like this at least. We must…we must do something; she's only a child, look at her! She's just lost her father and freedom-"

"THEN SHE SHOULDN'T HAVE TRESPASSED!" he growled harshly. Marlene jumped and took a step back, not wishing to anger Eric more than he already was. That was one ill fate she did not wish on the poor girl. He groaned and ran a hand through his limp light brown hair.

"Do as I say…take her to the Southern cavern, lock her in one of the cages, and after the opera, I will be down to see her."

"Yes Master," she whispered. Satisfied, Eric turned to leave, but a soft small voice stopped him dead in his tracks.

"Wait. Before you go…" came the faint voice of the costume girl, "…I have but one favor to ask…" A death-like silence filled the cavern. "…let me look upon my captor…so that I may know the monster to which I gave my life away to."

Her words were bitter, filled with anger and hatred. It was expected, but Eric had no pity for the girl, it was her decision and she gave her word. It was too late for her. And because of this reason, he had no problem granting her meek request. Without a word, he lit a match and walked over to the far side of the cavern wall. Every cavern had a candleholder, and Eric proceeded to light it, his back to the costume girl.

As the light slowly illuminated the cavern, Tris peered through the shadows and began to make out a shape, a large black shape that was tall and broad. She realized that the blackness belonged to his cape that hung from his broad shoulders all the way to his ankles. Slowly, so slowly, he turned, revealing more of himself to her eyes. Black boots, black trousers…followed by a black vest and black dress coat. He wore a black overcoat that's tails swished around his ankles and he the hood over his face. A hint of jet could be seen, which indicated his shirt peeking out from the coat and vest. His arms, which looked like strong tree limbs, hung at his sides clad in black leather gloves. Her eyes went higher and higher, his face cloaked by the hood in the shadows. She squinted, thinking she could see something pale in the darkness of where his face would be.

"Come into the light…" she whispered.

Without any word, he slowly took the hood off of his head and lifted his head to where the candlelight was streaming. She saw cold stone grey eyes, glaring back into hers. His hair was light brown, which he had pulled back, but interestingly he had his head shaven on both sides, which was rather an uncommon style for the men in Paris. She saw one cheek, which looked like the cheek of any young man; smooth and yet rough, with a couple of piercings on his upper brow and bold black tattoos on his neck that look like a never-ending black maze. But it was the other half of his face that caused her eyes to widen and her heart to stop. The paleness she had seen earlier belonged to a mask; a smooth black mask with silver and charcoal grey linings that covered the right side of his face from the corner of his mouth all the way up to his forehead. She was frozen in terror at this mysterious creature. It was true…everything she heard from the stagehands and the ballet; the Phantom was real.

Eric smiled a menacing wicked grin and held his arms out from his side, as if displaying himself. "Behold your captor my dear; behold your eternity."

She said nothing. Her eyes fluttered slightly, before rolling back and collapsing on the floor.


Well ladies and gentlemen, Eric and Tris finally meet each again after all these years, and it's not off to a great start. I'm with Marlene on this one- like seriously Eric? Lock up her in a cage in the meantime? The poor girl just lost everything! Don't worry, don't expect Tris to be a weeping fragile flower! What is in store for our heroine and Phantom? And who shall remember the other first? I wonder what shall occur?;3