A/N: For all of you who love my story, how come you didn't review? You're all just lucky I really wanted to write! :) Also, for the masquerade I'm going with Erik's face instead of the skull mask in the play.

I knelt down, my heart breaking, over Christine's body. Suddenly she sat up, her hand clasping mine, and with her last breath she spoke to me.

"Erik, I have forgiven you for the blood that was spilt. Now in turn, please forgive me." With that, she lay down lifeless.

I, on the other hand, woke up with a start. I wildly glanced around, making sure it was in fact my drawing room, and not the hall outside Christine's dressing room. There was no blood anywhere. Glancing at the clock on the table next to me, I found it was nearly seven o'clock in the morning, too late for me to be sitting here. I never dream, so that's one reason why I had believed this dream was real. Also, it was so terribly vivid and accurate.

I also had a feeling it was trying to tell me something. It was out of the question now to kill the boy. I could not do it, for fear of hurting Christine. Not physically, like in the dream, but emotionally. I had had some experience with people whose souls have seemingly died, though they remain alive. For all the good it does them, they may as well be dead physically also.

I quickly changed out of the wrinkled clothing I had on and into another suit. I of course had to make my rounds and make sure everything was being set up to my satisfaction. If anything was not perfect, things would not go as I planned. As with all my plans, perfection and absolute cooperation was necessary.

But I assume you are wondering what I mean by cooperation. Everyone would have to do certain things at certain times. How would even I be able to coordinate this, you ask? Very simply. Either I would tell people what to do, or they would be doing it anyway so it wouldn't matter. I could already tell you that Christine and the Vicomte would be at each other's side all night long. The manager's and everyone else would be celebrating the fact they hadn't heard from me for so long. Looking back, it was a wonder I hadn't contacted the managers. Carlotta wouldn't dare tell anyone of her encounter with me. She would act as though she too had not been bothered by me since I made her croak. Of course, knowing all this now somewhat took away all the amusement of seeing it tonight.

I could not figure out what to do about Christine. At our last encounter, I had behaved incredibly rudely to her, and I had even terrified her. My dream had told me to forgive her, but how? It would be difficult to try to return our relationship to normal when she had been plotting to kill me, and then I almost killed her fiancée. It would be a very awkward situation. There would be only one way to communicate this message to her. Through song. Through words, but only words she would understand. No one else could know.

While most of the ballet troupe and Christine, were down helping to get things ready, Carlotta was in her dressing room getting ready for masquerade. There was still about seven hours before the doors opened to let people in, and she did not even leave her room for lunch. Everything seemed to be running smoothly. Most of the girls left at three o'clock in the afternoon to head home and to their dressing rooms. Christine did not.

Christine had vanished. I looked all around the Opera for her. I looked on every floor from the roof to the main floor. With some hesitance I looked through all the cellars. She was nowhere to be found. She was not at the edge of the lake either. She had left the Opera, which was curious since her costume was hanging in her dressing room wardrobe.

She reappeared at six o'clock, hurrying into her dressing room to begin getting ready. I also hurried down to get prepared. It would take me less time than most other people, since I of course wore no mask or face paint.

As a whole, my ensemble was not for comfort but for show. It was certainly lavish. I would surprise everyone there. There would be no way for me to lose. Seven o'clock came sooner than I would have liked. I stayed in the shadows at the party, and no one really noticed me. I was set to come out at the stroke of midnight, just like the Red Death in Poe's story. I highly doubt anyone had read "The Masque of Red Death", but it was still disconcerting. At least I hoped it would be.

The hours seemed to tick by slowly. I observed Christine and the Vicomte fluttering about, as well as the managers in their matching skeleton outfits. At eleven fifty-eight, I made my way toward the head of the stairs. It was time for the show to begin.

At the sight of me, I counted at least ten women fainting. Everyone grew silent as the clock finished striking for the twelfth time. I descended the stairs, one at a time.

"Why so silent good Monsieurs? Did you think that I had left you for good? Have you missed me good Monsieurs? I have written you an Opera. Here I bring the finished score...Don Juan Triumphant! I advise you to comply, my instructions should be clear. Remember, there are worse things than a shattered chandelier!" I threw the manuscript at Monsieur Andre, since he looked like he had a few more sparks of intelligence in his eyes at the present moment.

With that, I turned towards Christine and beckoned her nearer to me. She walked forward slowly, but not fearfully. Apparently I had misread her feelings. I looked at the engagement ring on the chain around her neck and smiled to myself. So she could not wear it on her finger?

"You're chains are still mine, you will sing for me!" She nodded slightly, and I knew she understood. I ripped the ring off the chain around her neck, and slipped it in my pocket. With that business taken care of, I made my silent entrance. I counted to ten before total chaos took over the Opera.