Disclaimer: I don't own The Phantom of the Opera in any of its mediums. Nor do I own X-Men: Evolution.

Thank you InterNutter, The Phantom, and Tailfeather for reviewing. You guys are my steady reviewers, and I heart you. :D

I meekly acknowledge my spelling mistake, and announce boldly that it should be spelled 'Dumbwaiter'. However, I will not change the spelling in Chapter Eight until it benefits me to update this fic without actually putting up another chapter. Sorry, but I'm lazy like that.

As for Tailfeather's bit of news…I am extremely envious of you. Because wherever you are, you're not from America if you'll be seeing the 'Phantom' movie December 10th. In the States, the movie opens December 22nd in select cities, and January 21st nationwide. So says the official site.

But I agree. We must all see it! And then compare it to both book and musical in lively debates.

Now…a climactic chapter!!!!

Chapter Nine: A Master Stroke of the Trap-Door Lover

"Nooo..." Todd moaned, squeezing his eyes shut tightly. "This ain't happenin', this ain't happenin'..."

"Oh, but I'm afraid it is." Martha said. "I'm sorry Todd, but it's got to be you."

"But...but I can't! I'm afraid of small places!" Todd exclaimed, his expression pleading.

"Bull." Lance said, rolling his eyes. I've seen you hide from Mystique inside cabinet drawers. You're about as claustrophobic as a mole."

"But.."

"No more excuses!" Lance looked downright angry now.

Todd sighed. He knew there was no way out of this. All he could do was pray he wasn't headed for a nasty, dusty end.

"Fine, fine. Outta my way." He said unhappily, pushing himself into the dusty gap. Taking the crumpled handkerchief in his hand, Todd folded it into a triangle and tied it over his face. He now looked like a western bank robber, but this knowledge did nothing to cheer the scrawny teen.

Reaching upwards into the dumbwaiter, Todd grabbed the rope firmly. With one last pitiful look at those behind him, he climbed onto the counter, squirmed his front half into the dumbwaiter, than pulled his legs in by climbing upwards. A bit of scuffling, and he was in completely.

"How ya doin, Todd?" Lance called.

"Okay!" Came a muffled shout, echoing back down the shaft. Scraping noises were also echoing down, as Todd was apparently pushing his feet against the walls in order to climb. And as he moved higher, the scraping noises got dimmer and dimmer.

Abruptly, the scrapings stopped entirely. There was only silence. Lance frowned, turning to Martha as if she could explain.

"Don't look at me." She said, shrugging her shoulders. "Maybe he found the en--"

Suddenly, the scraping noises returned, only louder and more frequent. And they were accompanied by high-pitched, rough shrieks. Shrieks that could only have been uttered by Todd Tolansky.

And just as suddenly as the noises of Todd's climbing had been cut off earlier, the shrieks and scraping noises were cut off. All was silence again.

Lance climbed partway onto the counter, shoved the front half of his body into the dumbwaiter shaft and looked upwards. There was nothing but inky blackness.

"TOAD!!!!" The rock-shaker bellowed, desperately hoping Todd was there to voice some reply. Even a Toady little squeak would have been a good enough sign for Lance. But there was no response.

Frantic, Lance pulled himself out of the dumbwaiter shaft, scraping his upper arms in the process. He turned to see Fred and Martha staring at him, faces pale and eyes wide.

Shocked and scared, Lance turned to the perpetrator of the original dumbwaiter plan.

"Well?!" Lance yelled at Martha, grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her. The momentum knocked the hat off her head, but nobody noticed (least of all its wearer). "What do we do now, Miss Ghost Expert?!" Lance shrieked.

Martha looked dazed and lost for a moment, but suddenly snapped to attention.

"We need to get to the attic, now! He'll be taking Todd to his lair...there's not a moment to lose!"

Martha yanked herself free from Lance's grasp, and bolted out of the kitchen. Freddy lumbered after her as quickly as his girth allowed him, and Lance was right behind him.

Feet pounding on the floorboards, the three teens scrambled up the three flights of stairs. With Martha in the lead, and Toad's life on the line, there was not a moment's hesitation when the two boys reached the third floor, despite what had happened earlier that day.

A sinking feeling in his stomach, Lance briefly noted that the two soda bottles that had been left on the floor--one underneath the attic door, one thrown up to the landing by Todd much later--were both gone. But there was no time to focus on it further, as Freddy had already pulled the attic steps down, and Martha was scrambling upwards.

"Wait--!" Lance called. Bending down to pick up the flashlight he had dropped when Todd had raced downstairs after Boom-boom, Lance leapt up the stairs before he even realized what he was doing. As Freddy climbed up the stairs as far as he could go (his waistline prevented him from climbing through completely) Lance realized that he was standing in a dark, dusty attic. With the exit blocked by Blob, and with only a defenseless human by his side. And all the hairs on the back of his neck were dancing like nobody's business.

"Okay, okay." Martha heaved, out of breath from running up the stairs so quickly. "I--I don't see anything suspicious right off the bat. But be careful! And no matter what happens, always keep your hand at the level of your eyes!"

"Wha-hat?" Lance said haltingly, a little out of breath himself.

"I said, keep your hand at the level of y--ACK!!!"

"AHHH!" Lance recoiled as the dim outline standing in front of him (all he could see of Martha in this light) was abruptly yanked forward, into absolute blackness.

"What happened, what happened?!?!" Freddy shouted, unable to see anything from his current position but the back of Lance's knees. In the deep blackness ahead, scuffling noises could be heard.

"Ahhh!" Was the only form of response Lance could think to give. Suddenly, remembering he had a flashlight in his hand, Lance gripped the handle and fumbled for the switch.

A soft click, then a thin, but powerful beam of light shot across the attic.

Lance stared, his feet frozen in place. There, not five yards away, two figures wrestled on the floor. One was Martha, who kicked her feet and lashed out with her right arm as though trying to fend off an attack. Her left arm was otherwise occupied...it seemed to be trapped against the side of her neck, and she was frantically trying to push the appendage away from her face.

The second figure was no more than a dark form to Lance's eyes, a thin creature shadowed in black. It was pinning Martha to the ground with one arm, while attempting to avoid getting both kicked and hit. Lance could not see its other arm, though from the movement of its shoulder, the figure seemed to be pulling at something.

"Lance!" Freddy shouted. "Lance, what's going on up there, man?!"

Lance snapped back to reality.

"Hang on!" He shouted to Freddy without turning around. "It's gonna take a lotta juice to shake up this far...you'd better hope the house doesn't some crashing down!"

Quelling his paranoia in the face of a much more solid threat, Lance squeezed his fist as tightly as he could.

Immediately, the high-pitched noise that Avalanche's tremors always caused pierced everyone's ears. But it wasn't until ten seconds later than the tremors reached the third floor, and the boards began to shake beneath Lance's feet.

Grimacing, the rock shaker tilted his body ever so slightly backwards--willing the tremors to follow him. They did as bidden, and as the furniture and boxes toppled over, everything began tumbling in Lance's direction---along with the two startled figures that had been clawing at each other only moments before.

"Fred! DOWN!" Lance screamed, turning to run. The Blob wasted no time, and before you could say 'Jiminy Cricket' the attic door was unblocked. Disregarding the stairs, Lance leapt headfirst through the opening, stretching his hands wide open. The tremors stopped before he hit the ground...but inertia didn't, and Lance quickly rolled out of the way as several boxes, a chair, and two dust-covered figures fell through the attic door and landed on the carpet.

Tbc.