Dib uncomfortably adjusted the bowtie on his costume and wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve. The murmured sounds and presence of a filled auditorium—okay, filled gym/cafeteria/board meeting room with a stage—were making him apprehensive. It was part of the script for Christine to unmask the Phantom. Dib was going to make sure Zim was really unmasked. Maybe they'd take it as special effects but maybe, just maybe, they would see that it was real.

Dib pushed the curtain aside to peek out over the chairs that filled the room. No sign of his dad but that was hardly a big surprise. He dropped the curtain with a sigh.

Dib jumped, and looked up quickly at June as she approached him. Come backstage you're on in a couple minutes. She headed back through the wings, and Dib tagged along after her, listening with half his attention to Carlotta' singing Think of Me. He thought he could hear Zim cackling somewhere backstage that alien was up to no good. No good at all.

--

Things have changed, Raoul murmured Jessie as she picked up a hand mirror. Dib's footsteps echoed as he ran offstage, and Jessie stood still, frozen by the watchful eyes of the audience. It frightened her to be up here, but that was nothing compared to the nervousness she felt about facing the Phantom. Even in rehearsals there had been something diabolical, something intense, to the ugly green kid that went beyond acting. But his voice it attracted her, lulled her into a weird state where she didn't feel like she even knew what was going on. She dreaded this next scene but she forced her eyes to the large mirror, draped along either side with black cloth.

Insolent boy! Zim's voice rang across the stage, seeming to come from everywhere to Jessie, and not just from behind the mirror, where she knew he was standing. This slaaave of fashion! Basking in your, glory! Ignorant fool this brave young suitor; sharing in MYYYY triumph!!

Jessie's eyes fixed on the surface of the mirror. She saw only her own reflection but behind it, she thought she could see maybe she was imagining it but she thought she could see his eyes, burning through the glass and into her mind. Only they weren't his eyes, they couldn't be they were glowing, and burning a deep, bloody crimson. For some reason terrified, Christine' rose her voice to her part of the duet.

--

Come to me, straaange angeeel! Jessie's voice was tremulous, afraid almost, and Dib paced in the wings, agitated.

He's planning something evil! he said desperately to June, who was working on something at the stage manager's desk. I know he is! Something beyond this whole performance! He's not just acting out there! He's an alien and he's evil!!!

June sighed and let her pen fall from her hand. Dib. We've been through this he's not an alien, he just has a skin condition. That's really no reason to pick on someone.

It's not a skin condition!! Dib said, his voice rising in his frustration, and he clenched his fists angrily as he paced.

You're on, was June's only response, and she picked up her pen again.

Dib's frustration lent itself beautifully to his next, albeit small, part. Stalking towards the curtains, he shouted with all his might. CHRISTINE!! ANGEL!!! The music from the CD player rose up past his voice, accompanied by a delighted cackle from Zim. Dib resumed pacing backstage.

--

DO NOT PANIC! IT WAS AN ACCIDENT! the kid's voice—Dib didn't remember his name—screamed out over the audience as the dramatic music thundered from the CD player. Be extra loud, June had told them. There were vocals on the CD Dib kicked at the curtain angrily. This production was a bit idiotic in his mind, but it concealed a danger far more real. He paused in the wings, turning his head sharply at a flurry of movement offstage.

It was Zim and Jessie, but something wasn't right. Of course, nothing was right around Zim, nothing was assumed. That's why Dib had to keep such a close eye on him. Zim had a wicked grin across his face, and his gloved hand was locked in a death-grip around Jessie's arm. She looked faint, but worst of all, she had that look in her eyes that Dib remembered from Zim's Pustulio' escapade. Shaking his head angrily at the memory, he ran quickly after his nemesis.

--

Everything was going according to plan. These humans wanted a dramatic production? ZIM would give it to them. He paused in the wings, gazed up towards the ceiling, and slid the mech-legs out of his backpod. The human child with him did not react at all, but that was how he had planned it. Quickly locking an arm around her waist, Zim leapt upwards, bracing off of the wall and clinging to the ceiling above the stage. It was a high ceiling, with a few of those human theater lights attached, and the heavy metal bars holding up the curtains didn't hinder his progress any. Scrambling across them towards the front of the stage, Zim swung down just at the edge of the wings, catching his mechs in the fabric of the curtain and hanging there dead still. The child was still limp, but she made a small soft sound, primarily some weak, disgusting expression of her huuuuuman fear.

the shout rang from below him. Zim cursed under his breath. That disgusting Dib always interfering with his plans!!

came a much more whispered, but still urgent voice. It was that drama production director' that Zim didn't feel the inclination to recall the name of. At least she was silencing the Dib. The Irken began to make his way across the curtain towards the front of the stage, swinging around until he'd be in view of the audience. What scene was it? He gazed downwards, recognized the flurry and panic of the scene where the mob was chasing the Phantom through the labyrinth', a spray-painted network of cardboard. In another part of it, the DIB was being dragged by his disturbing sister. He was supposed to be silent and follow her, but he was not. He was looking upwards, searching the lights and the curtains, a determined expression on his face.

Zim cackled. It was all to no avail. However, he was now, as they put it, on. Flipping downwards, Zim landed in the front of the stage, his mechs clicking against the hardwood floor of the stage. He remained elevated on them; humans were stupid, and employed things like this anyway to hold their water-heavy, stinky selves above stage.

Dib shouted, running on stage as Zim dropped the child in his arms in a careless heap at his feet. YOU MONSTER!! YOU'VE— Gaz elbowed Dib hard in the stomach, doubling him over. Zim howled with laughter at Dib's discomfort, even as the huge-head human boy gasped for breath. You are too late, DI—RAOUL!! he snarled. The earth-stink child belongs to the PHAAAAAANTOOOOM!!!!

You'll never get away with this!! Dib finally managed to gasp out, struggling upwards to a standing position again.

Oh, won't I, filth-stink!? Zim snickered. He let the human child fall to the stage in a limp heap, a wicked grin spreading across his face. Disgusting little liquid beadlets were covering the Dib-monster's face, as the human's fists clenched and his eyes narrowed. Suddenly, Dib leapt forward, grabbing at the Irken's face, fumbling as he tore away the mask, the wig a contact lense was pulled loose, and it hit the stage quickly followed by its partner.

--

Now they had to see. Now they would see that he'd been telling the truth all along. Zim stood poised on his mech-legs, hovering maybe 3 inches off of the floor, draped in a black cape and perfectly filling the definition of and his disguise was gone. The mask was still clutched in Dib's hands, and he stared at the long, slender black antennae, the glowing crimson eyes, and the vengeful snarl. Or was that a smile? Had Zim finally lost it?

The alien swept around to face the audience, gaining more than a few gasps and screams. The vindicative grin spread, and a delighted cackle rose up from Zim's throat. GAAAAZE, filthy Dib-worm, he growled as he looked back at Dib. GAZE UPON THE MIGHT AND HORROR THAT IS THE PHAAAANTOOOOM!!!!

Smelling salts? Dib heard Alma's voice backstage. Do we have them?

Well we need them! June replied. Get out there! Clogs thudding, the eight-grade hippy girl ran off the stage and out into the audience. Dib didn't waste time watching her, focusing his gaze intently up on the alien. Zim's mech-legs flexed, lifting him up still higher, curling his small form aggressively over Dib's head.

Why didn't the audience notice? Why didn't they do something?? This was an alien, right in FRONT of them!!

Come closer, Raoul, Zim sniggered. Come closer He backed up a pace on the mechs, hovering over the still form of Jessie. Dib shot the girl an agonized glance he felt bad for her, having to be subjected to the Irken's evil like this. Angrily, he strode forward, defiantly meeting the alien's burning red gaze.

--

Yeah, yeah, it's not that bad, come on, out of it Alma murmured, propping an old lady up in her chair as she glanced around at the audience. They were all fixated on the stage, the man behind the old lady craning to see around Alma. The girl sighed, fished around in her pockets but she didn't find anything useful. She tapped her hands gently against the old lady's cheeks. Why did they have to pass out? It wasn't like anything scary was going on Alma hazarded a glance at the stage. The glance quickly turned into a stare.

How did that green kid move so fast? And on those those stilts? They didn't even have stilts! Especially not ones that moved independently like working limbs! And that other kid, the one playing Raoul was he yeah, even from this distance you could see flecks of foam at his mouth, his eyes bulging out what, had he actually been strung up? The green kid, the Phantom, darting to one side of him, twisted and leapt on the mechs, grinning maniacally, and scooped up the girl playing Christine, who hadn't moved even to sing her lines. That wasn't right Alma shook the slightly stirring old lady.

The green kid looked up then, the long black things on his head lifting up and pointing towards the audience somewhat. His blood-red gaze stabbed out at the audience, and he lifted up on those jointed stilts again. The old lady next to Alma fainted dead away again, and the girl sighed. When she looked up again, the Phantom was gone.

--

Lights sparked and flashed painfully in his eyes, and Dib tried to twist away from them, close his eyes, but they were still there, accompanied by sharp bursts of pain lancing through his throat and lungs. He couldn't breathe. His hands grappled numbly at the steel cord tightening around his throat, and he tried to scream, entreat June for help, get someone over here but he couldn't get any other sound out than a choked gargle. He heard, distantly, the sounds of feet pounding on the stage, voices shouting. He thought he felt hands on his neck, ripping at the cord, but as his vision narrowed and started to blacken, he was sure this was the end of it.

Suddenly, it was loose, torn violently from his neck, and he was let drop carelessly to the stage floor. Great job keeping your hand at the level of your eyes, DIB, a familiar condescending voice snapped, and Dib looked up blearily, saw a flash of a long black dress and purple hair, but most noticeably, he saw a black cane hit the stage with a deafeningly crack right next to his head. He shrank away and shut his eyes, rubbing his aching throat. More footsteps, and hands propped him up, felt his neck, held his head up. He grimaced, opening one eye. June was kneeling next to him, peering at him.

she said. What the hell happened? And where did Zim go??

he gasped weakly, struggling to get to his feet without luck. He's gone!? You have to— Dib wheezed, coughed, trying to get his breath back. You have to find him!!

Of course we have to find him! The play's not over yet. We called an immediate intermission. June stood up and hauled Dib to his feet, and he groaned, reaching his hands up to rub his temples against the sudden motion.

He would've— Dib wheezed. If he left he'd go back to his base! I told you he was up to now good! He's probably implementing some horrible plan right now!!

June stared at him. Dib, if he went home do you know where he lives?

Of course I know where he lives!! Dib said, straightening up. He felt his strength returning with the flow of adrenaline in his bloodstream. Come with me!! We have to STOP HIM!!

Dib, I can't leave, we have a lot to get together here—

Angrily, Dib grabbed the older student by the arm, hauled her off stage, and split for the doors. June sighed in exasperation, but followed him. she called back towards the stage. I have to get the star! Take care of things while I'm not here!! Alma's reply, if there was one, was cut off as Dib raced through the doors of the skool, dragging June with him.

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Sorry I have been so long in getting this story continued... however, I am currently torn between two paths I want to take with this fic and I have no idea which I would rather do. Heck maybe I'll end up doing both... o.o Anyway, the two ideas I have are, loosely...

1) Where 'Phantom' remains entirely a fantasy and goal of Zim's and a driving force behind new eccentricities. I don't know what else would happen except perhaps for some involvement with emotions (affecting Zim's 'Soldier' demeanor much as it happened to Erik).

2) Where Zim manages somehow to travel to an alternate reality (by building a machine or something) and actually goes to Paris, meets the characters from Phantom, and tries to infiltrate Erik's lair, etc... I have a couple ideas for what might happen here.

6.6;; I would love input on which of these two paths any of you would like to see this fic take. Because I really can not decide... if you have an opinion, please review and let me know ^.^;