A/N:  Still working towards something that makes some sense here.  Has anyone seen the terrible reviews that Dance Of The Vampires got on Monday night?!?!  I can hardly believe they can get away with printing such personal insults and some of the critics seem to have dished out.

A Disaster Beyond Your Imagination

After an all too brief normality, the stage shook and a terrible crash resounded throughout the numerous corridors of the opera house.  The majority of the staff knew instantly what had happened; there had been another rock fall.
Ominous as this should have been people were loathe to accept that the magnificent building was fallible, and so, as by fortunate coincidence it had happened during the day, when only the performers and backstage staff frequented the theatre, it was universally agreed that it was probably a one off, that there was really nothing to worry about, and certainly no justification for causing unnecessary alarm amongst the clientele.  Financial gain silenced the concerned few, they had lost out greatly during the previous months unrest.  And so it was unanimously agreed that silence would pay dividends.


Fate apparently had other ideas and the next day that ear-splitting rumble rang out again, louder, longer and more prominent than before.
A raging argument ensued, which saw Andre, who, along with Firmin, had remained at the theatre despite the bleak outlook, threatened to walk out altogether.  After much persuasion he was pacified and a reluctant group was established and sent to the cellars to investigate and report any visible damage.

An interminable period passed before they returned and reported that structurally there were no problems; all repair work remained intact. The rock fall had, however, claimed another victim; the party had uncovered the body of a man.

As if that wasn't bad enough, they claimed to have identified the man instantaneously. They all concluded that they knew of only one character associated with the Opera Populaire who passed his days deep down below, adorned in dress clothes, swathed in a flowing black cloak, and who felt the necessity of wearing the white half-mask that they'd discovered with the body.

All but official confirmation suggested that the mystery shrouding the disappearance of the Phantom, and proved a most successful crowd puller in those early re-opening days, had at last been solved. Erik was indeed dead.