You guys, you guys are going to hate me for this chapter! GAh I was so nervous to post it, but tis time or else I would never finish the story! Just a warning, you will probably hate me.

That morning, before Erik let his Angel go, there was bustling all over the Opera house above where he lived. Andre and Firman were fighting loudly about the notes that a mysterious O.G. They couldn't understand why they took over this Opera house when there was such a mess that was left behind. This Opera house was beautiful, but still a mess that you couldn't be able to see.

"Monsieur Andre, Monsieur Firman!" A light, but booming voice filled the Foyer of the Opera House. The two older gentlemen quickly turned around to see who pursued them. The young Viscomte, only a boy of 21, walked quickly with his brother beside him. His brother Phillipe De Changey was 14 years, Raoul's elder and was humored by the fact that Raoul was so infuriated by a prank note he had received that morning.

"Where is she!" Raoul grabbed onto the stairwell.

"Who?" Andre asked.

"The girl," Phillipe answered for his wheezing brother, "Christine Daae."

Running was not Raoul's strong suite, and Phillipe knew this. He let Raoul sit on the stairs to calm his heartbeat.

Firman turned to Andre as he answered Phillipe. "How should we know?"

Phillipe raised his brow in confusion.

"She's not with you then?"

"Of course not!"

Firman added, with a small and quite voice, "We're in the dark…"

Raoul, finally calming his nerves, looked straight into the short bald man's eyes. "Monsieur don't argue, isn't this the letter you wrote?"

"What letter?"

Just then, in perfect timing, Jeanne Cayette walked out of the theatre doors, wearing her leotard and skirt with her hair dropped down and wearing her black slippers.

All four of the Men turned and suddenly became very quiet.

"What is all the commotion out here?" Jeanne questioned.

"Nothing Mademoiselle Cayette, we were just talking very loudly." Andre quickly hid the note behind his back, so Jeanne couldn't see.

"Monsieur, what do you have there?" Jeanne raised her chin to try and see behind the short bald man.

"It's a note," the naïve Raoul answered, his brother hissed at him to silence himself. Raoul's puppy eyes looked up at his brother in guilt, showing the boyish self that he is.

"Well then," Jeanne started, "read it."

"I don't think," Firman tried to protest.

Jeanne glared at him. "I said read it."

Andre gulped, and realized she wouldn't go away unless he would read the note that Raoul handed to him.

"Do no fear for Miss Daae, the Angel of Music has her under his wing; make no attempts to see her again."

Raoul mumbled, questioning himself. "If you didn't write it, who did."

"See, Mademoiselle Cayette, just a silly prank, tis all." Andre announced, half-heartedly.

"It does not seem to be a humorous prank to me," Jeanne retorted, "may I see it?"

Firman, standing up for his co-manager, stood in front as to be a valiant knight. "Don't you have somewhere else to be, Jeanne? Weren't you in the middle of teaching the Ballerina's the new dance for "I'll Muto?"

"You think I cannot help find Christine?" Jeanne sounded hurt. She didn't mean to, but this was the first time anyone had ever questioned her ability to do, well, anything.

"No, I don't think so. You are not a detective, Jeanne, you are a charge of the Ballet Corp. Don't you forget that."

"How dare you," Jeanne's voice raised. Some of the younger girls of the ballet heard her and peaked through the huge gold and white double doors to the theatre. "Is that what you think of me, just a pure little Charge of the Ballet Corp?! Well let me tell you one thing, my managers, Just like the pervious charge, I know more about this Opera House than you do!"

Phillipe, with is smug look and his fake smile came forward and placed his hand on Jeanne's shoulder, which shut up her ranting.

"Mademoiselle Cayette, we shall find you, once we need you." Jeanne moved her shoulder away so Phillipe's hand dropped back down to his side. She hated that brother of Raoul's. He was a shark, and a pig and she had nothing else to say to him.

As she left back to the theatre, she took two of the youngest ballerina's hands and walked down the long path to the stage. She turned to look at her new enemies.

"What happened?" The red haired youngster asked.

"Nothing, just our managers don't know what they are dealing with."

"Is it the Opera Ghost Madmoiselle," the blonde girl with the soft complexion asked.

Jeanne stared as the stage and saw all of the girls lined up, ready to learn the dance to Ill Muto. In the middle she saw a space between Meg and Margery, an empty space that was for a beautiful brunette with a voice of an angel.

"Don't be silly girls, there is no Phantom of the Opera."

That night wasn't any better, because that was the night that Meg and Jeanne stayed at the Opera House and Bouquet was up telling ghost stories as the girls entered the room. There were four girls in there already that he was frightening.

"Like yellow parchment is his skin…" Here we go. Jeanne thought, another ghost story about her Erik, but was he hers anymore?

"A great big hole serves as the nose that never grew." Meg rolled her eyes but didn't say anything, because she was afraid of the nasty scene shifter.

"You must be always on your guard," the man took something out of his satchel, "or he will catch you with his magical lasso!"

That was it, they might have a bad relationship at the moment, but Jeanne would not be sitting here laughing at what this man was telling these naïve girls about her husband.

Jeanne stood up and caught Bouquet's attention; she sauntered over, knowing how she herself would scare the big oaf.

"Those who speak of what they know, find too late that prudent silence is wise…" She pulled his face close to hers with the lasso around his neck. "Joseph Bouquet hold your tongue!" She tightened the rope around him and he got to his knees, somewhat whimpering. All of the ballerina's were gasping.

"Keep your hand and the level of your eyes…"

While everyone was asleep in the dormitories, one was not. Meg Giry was not convinced that Christine just disappeared like that. There was something missing, something was wrong. Yes, of course she was worried about her friend and almost sister, even though she had been high and mighty ever since she became the second prima donna. Meg snuck down and slowly opened the door to Christine's room, secretly hoping she would be asleep in there. Unfortunately she was not. The room was dark and even smelled a bit stale; it seemed obvious that Christine had not been in that room for a few days. She walked slowly and silently closed the door behind her so no one would hear. Her mother would surely kill her if she was caught in here. Fortunately, her mother was at the Ballet House safely sleeping with the other girls.

Meg finally reached the end of Christine's room where the huge golden mirror stood and saw a slight opening at the edge. No it couldn't be. A door? A pathway to the outside world, or maybe a pathway below the Opera House, below reality into a fantasy. She forced the mirror open, pushed as hard as she could and fell through it. Her hands felt wet cobble stone and dirt. It was disgusting. Meg was always one for cleanliness. She stood up and without thinking wiped her dirty hands onto her night gown. She gasped at the realization of what she had done; again thanking that her mother wasn't staying at the Opera tonight.

She walked deeper and deeper taking in the webbed candelabras and all the puddles she tried not to step in. She couldn't imagine where the end of this pathway would lead, but she was determined to find Christine.

Just then, a hand grabbed her shoulder. Meg screamed only to realize that Jeanne was standing behind her, taking her hand and closing it around Meg's mouth. She took Meg's other hand and pulled her back though the mirror. Once the door to the pathway was closed, Jeanne started taking Meg to the dorms.

"What were you doing, Meg? You must never go down there." She said as she felt resistance of Meg, struggling to break free.

"What's down there, Jeanne, what do you and mother know?" Meg whimpered.

"It's better that you don't know, it's a dangerous place down there, never go back down. Promise me." Jeanne turned to her little friend, and stared at her, as to coax her to promise.

Meg sighed, knowing that there was no use arguing. "As long as you don't tell mother, I won't try again."

Jeanne promised, put Meg to bed, and went back down to face Erik once and for all.

The back of Erik's head was terrifying to Jeanne, she saw him at his organ and immediately regretted coming down to meet him. Something in his Music changed; it was more aggressive and less loving. She looked around for Christine and didn't see her anywhere, so she decided it was safe enough to speak. She knew that Christine must have been in a sleeping trance. She knew Erik's ways.

"Erik Destler." Jeanne said in her stern voice.

His white mask moved to face her, she couldn't see his expression due to it.

"Jeanne."

"I'm here." Jeanne said, her words not forming correctly due to her fear of what couldn't happen.

Erik rose to his feet, gathered his music notes together, and closed the binding of his music book. He walked behind his chair and, with his long legs, glided over to her.

"It's my imagination, for you are not really here."

Jeanne did not play into his hand. "Where is Christine, I know you have her here."

"Christine? Oh, that girl," Erik sighed, "I let her leave a few minutes ago, she did need to go back to her ballet family, don't you think?"

Jeanne backed away from her husband as he approached a little too close for comfort.

"Why did you hide her down here, wasn't singing through that mirror enough?" Jeanne pleaded.

Erik's face hardened, almost as hard as his mask, "No, Jeanne, it was not enough."

Jeanne's expression did not change; she kept her stern look as well. This was treated like a competition between her and Erik. "I had to physically train her, nurture her into a great Diva." Erik looked down at the ground. "That is, until she ripped my mask away from my face and screamed in horror."

Served him right. Jeanne thought to herself.

Erik finally backed her up into the cavern wall. "Not like you, Jeanne, you never screamed at my face. You loved me for me, and I see that now. Now I need your love more than ever," he tried pulling her in for an embrace, but Jeanne dodged it and slipped through his arms to the other side.

"Have you really gone that mad, Erik? I can't ever give you my love when you give yours to Christine. I know you love her, I heard to say it the night you brought her down here. Why do you think I don't come down to visit you anymore?"

Erik didn't know what to say, because he knew that it was true, it was true that he wanted Christine's love.

"I…I don't know what to say, Jeanne, I love you more than I could ever love Christine. You love my face." He tried capturing her again with his embrace, but she was quicker than him, she was far less young and more nimble.

"I know you love me still," Erik continued, "you wouldn't give up our marriage because of this, would you?"

"Only if you truly loved me," Jeanne sighed, "but Erik…" Using his name again consumed her. She missed always slipping his name out of her mouth.

"Yes, my dear?" Erik now had her in his grasp and she felt the warmth rising from within her body.

"I will stay with you only If you promise me you will never see Christine Daae again."

The silence was maddening to Jeanne, as if she was in a box, alone, with no light and no sound coming from anywhere.

Erik's body stiffened. "I cannot do that."

"Then let me fly, Erik, let me fly out of this loveless marriage and maybe find a man who truly only loves me." She thought of Gaston then.

Erik's grip on Jeanne's shoulder grew tighter, making Jeanne extremely uncomfortable

"You will not leave me, Jeanne, I will never let you go." He hardly used her name, if ever, only in the dire of circumstances.

"You will stay with me, binding under god, and I will continue to teach Christine."

Jeanne's light blue eyes widened. She couldn't believe what she was hearing, Erik was not thinking, he was not the same man.

"You can't do that!" Jeanne pulled herself away from Erik's grasp and accidently fell. Erik was not there to catch her fall. Erik got on his knees and began to crawl for her. Jeanne scooted as fast as she could away from him.

"I am the Phantom of the Opera," Erik boomed, his voice filling the entire home, "I can do whatever I want!" He cackled. Erik never cackled.

"You ARE mad!" Jeanne choked out. "You can't have everything you want, Erik, the world doesn't work that way!"

Erik lifted his face, Jeanne gasped. His eyes were so dark now; they were almost black, almost demonic. Jeanne was now scared for the one thing she thought she would never be scared of around her husband. Her life.

"My world does, Jeanne," Erik growled.

Jeanne now tried to fake her way to safety, so she scooted towards her crazed love.

"What happened to my old Erik, the one who cared about me," she was close enough to touch his unmasked face. She tried to sooth him, for the sake of herself. "Who is this cruel man?" she whispered.

Erik's eyes, after being closed while she embraced his face, shot up and met hers.

"He DIED, when you LEFT him." There was a growl coming from the back of his throat, then another cackle. "He was killed by anger and outrage, there is no more Erik Destler!"

Erik stood up and sang on top of his lungs. "I am the PHANTOM OF THE OPERA!"

Jeanne was still in the same position Erik left her in. On her knees, on the cavern ground. Her eyes didn't leave him.

Erik stared down at his wife, the feeling of weightlessness filled his body. He knew something had changed in him and he liked it. He liked the feeling of power and the madness filling his mind.

"The Phantom can have whatever he wants."

Jeanne knew what was about to happen, and she didn't want it to be this way.

Erik grabbed Jeanne's arm and dragged her to the bed Christine had been softly sleeping in before.

"No Erik, please! Don't do this. You don't love me! This is not an act of Love!"

"Before you found me, Jeanne," hope filled her heart as he let go of her arms and she lay in the swan bed. "This was never about love." Then, he leapt on her, took off his mask, and made her face him.

"Erik please, you don't want to do this! Erik, please find yourself! Erik!" She screamed on top of her lungs. Jeanne had to fight, even if it was a duty to her husband, but this wasn't her husband anymore, this man was a monster.

"You will look at me and hide back your tears, you will not call me Erik, you will call me that Phantom!" The only way to not die, is to obey him. Jeanne felt like one of his prostitutes, the way he handled her, the way he ripped off her night dress and spread her apart, it was like ripping into her soul. Before he entered her, he whispered the most uncaring, thoughtless, heartbreaking words into Jeanne's ear.

"Tonight, your name is Christine…"

Okay, how bad do you hate me right now? Gah it had to be done, it had to you guys! Erik is sort of the villain in my story, or at least this story. There are so many fanfictions that have him as the savior, but i thought maybe just once he could be the villain. Anyways yall know what to do REVIEW, FOLLOW, and FAVE! Love ya guys and thanks for sticking around! :) oh and all the new peeps as well, heyyyyyy!