A/N: Hello again! School has kept me busy and lately I've been co-writing with The Scorpion. Phic is called Sepulchral Elegy: Phantom of the Organ, please read and enjoy… it is the most morbid phic ever besides it has some really nice descriptions… lol! Read it and you'll se what I mean. Anyway here you have it, finally…

A/N2: OK. One more thing, I had my doubts about posting this, with the movie and all and because there are out there some phans who only have the background of the movie. Nevertheless my Erik will still be as I had originally intended when I began writing. If you have any questions you would like me to directly answer feel free to write or AIM me.
We had accorded to meet during the late night near the banks of the Sienna, and I must admit that the Persian's punctuality was impeccable! As soon as I descended from my cab I was able to see his figure standing still near the banks, he looked older than he really was under the moonlight, but his eyes were still bright. I intended to follow the gentlemen's code and was about to greet him when he motioned his hand to indicate silence. I was perplexed. I had been taught so many manners and ways of conducing myself, that had always opened the doors on my way in society, but they all now seemed futile and vain.

The Persian used one of his fingers to point to another cab and I followed him into it. The windows of the carriage were covered and I was not able to see the gentleman driving us, but as soon as the horses began to move, I felt my heart giving a twist, and I began to doubt that it was all a good idea.

Calligraphy is one of the most unique things each individual possesses. It is not only completely ours, but it is said it reflects personality. The handwriting in both manuscript… manuscript?
I took out my pocket watch intrigued by the time. But the Persian caught my hand forcing to enclose the watch in my fist. 'Monsieur' he said 'I must ask you not to. Not now and not later when we meet your ghost.' I saw this as the opportunity to obtain a proper prelude to the acquaintance I was about to forge. 'Monsieur' I said as I returned my watch to the comfort of my pocket. ' And this ghost of yours, does he have a name he goes by?' I will never forget the look in the Persian's eyes after I had asked. Something indescribable almost enigmatic filled them with secrecy beyond my comprehension. I knew then that all my questions would have to be answered by this "Phantom" and no other tongue would reveal his mysteries.

The Persian was a silent companion and I had to resign myself to labyrinthine thoughts and the empty unanswered questions of my mind. I was rather surprised to find that the carriage had stopped, and the moment the door had been opened the unkind midday light hit my eyes and obliged me to close them. 'Let us go young Leroux' I heard the Persian say as he descended the cab 'we must not be tardy.' I helped myself out of the carriage and found that I stood in the middle of a small property. Where? I was not sure. We were escorted by Darius to the main entrance and it was then that the Persian knocked on the door. An old woman opened and bid us welcome. Because of her outfit I easily deduced she was a nun or nurse or perhaps both. We stepped into a living piece, modestly furnished but elegant. 'Will you please be so kind as to announce our presence?' The Persian asked and the woman left us. 'Now we wait.' He declared firmly as he took a seat.

It was not long after, that…

The Phone rang interrupting her reading. He left everything in the lab bench and quickly moved to the kitchen. She had no phones in her laboratory; she did not like to be bothered. But something inside her made her disobey her instincts and run to the phone. 'Hello?'
It was not long after, that the nurse returned. The Persian stood up and walked towards her. 'Monsieur wishes to see you sir.' She said politely and as the Persian left us she fixed her gaze on me. I took a better look at her now. Her blue aged eyes, the wrinkles that covered her face, her white hair tightly tied on a bun, her blue dress and apron and finally her eyes again. She sill looked at me and I was about to compliment her when she spoke slowly and bitterly. 'I warn you Monsieur! Shall you upset him; I will personally make sure that the rest of your days are miserable.' I was shocked and remained speechless, even when she left the room I could still feel my mouth hanging open. The Persian returned to the piece and signaled me to go after him. And I did.

I followed him to the second floor of the house, so drowned in my thoughts that I did not study the art on our way. We stopped in front of one of the many doors and the Persian opened it, he gestured me to go in and so I did, then… he closed the door behind me.

I studied the little room I was in. It was a normal squared room, with an unlit chimney and a chair. There was a mirror that almost covered one of the entire walls and there was a small writing desk. I did not know what to do and I did not wish to seem rude, so I dared not seat. I was aware that the only occupants of the room were my reflection and myself. Yet a strange sensation had take control over my senses and I felt observed.

'Hello! Yes! Ms. Chacon I presume?' The voice on the other side of the telephone asked.

'That is correct.'Mercedes answered.

'This is Doctor Laval from The Gaston Leroux Association, and I was wondering if there is a chance we can meet to discuss our advances on the authentication of the documents.' Mercedes blinked and waited for a moment before asking:

'What do you mean our advances?'

'Well' said Dr. Laval 'I too am working on the authentication of the manuscript.'

I was traveling the maze of my thoughts when the Persian entered the room startling me at first. 'I apologize' he said sincerely 'He is know ready to receive you.' He said and we left the room. I followed the Persian through a small hallway that led to a pair of glass doors half covered by red curtains. The Persian opened one of the doors, and as I stepped out I found myself in a balcony. The Persian entered behind me. It was there were I caught my first glimpse at the Opera Ghost.

What I saw or at least remember seeing is the back of a man dressed in black, his hands resting on the edge of the whitewall that boarded the terrace allowing the viewer to take in the wonderful view of the blissful garden. I remembered his stance impressed me, he was tall and emaciated but there was something about his carriage that completely trapped my gaze. I could see his dark hair contrasting the white threads of the hair that was beginning to age, yet there was a certain, rare strength to him that made absurd the idea of aging. I remember I stood there, incapable of moving when all of a sudden this phantom turned and my blood turned to ice. It was not his body this time what impressed me, it was the black mask that completely covered his face and above it all the look of his eyes. Now, I could write an entire epitaph describing those eyes, their yellow color, their dullness, the thousand feelings they cried out loud. 'You should remind your friend Daroga, that it is not polite to stare.' The man had spoken those words bitterly, nevertheless his words fascinated me, no, not his words. His voice! It was not like anything I have ever heard before nor have I heard since then.

He turned ever so slowly without meeting my eyes. I did not mind the lack of visual contact for my senses seemed to have abandoned me. I watched him move and take a seat on one of the two chaises that surrounded the Spanish, black-metal table. 'Well you ill-mannered reporter, shall we begin? Or shall we wait for hell to become ice?' It was then that I regained my senses, pulled my notebook and out and sat across this peculiar figure. The good Persian left us closing the glass door behind and pulling the curtains on the other side… we were alone.

'With all do respect Monsieur, I do not see how that is possible, I understood I was in possession of the complete manuscript.'

'Then I suggest we meet, you might find my advances interesting.'

'Very well then. What time would be best for you?'

A/N: Please review!!!! Hope you enjoyed this!!!