It's been 21 years since Christine ran off with Raoul. Erik went back to his life of solitude under the Opera, vowing to never fall in love again. Now, in his early fifties, Erik still composes music, but he rarely torments the faculty of the Opera. Most thought the Opera ghost to be dead; and he wanted to keep it that way.

One day, Erik was reading in his library when his still keen sense of hearing caught some shrieking of the ballet girls. "The Phantom of the Opera has returned!" What? How could the Opera ghost be tormenting the ballet girls when he was down in his lair? Erik laid his half-moon glasses on the side table. He donned his cloak and mask, and set off to investigate.

Upon reaching the third cellar, a rope and noose almost landed around the old Phantom's neck. Luckily, out of his Phantom reflexes, he dodges the rope and catches it with his gloved hand. "Whose idea of prank is this?" Erik sings to 'I Remember.'

"Mine," an angelic, young female voice fills the room. She sings to 'Stranger than You Dreamt It.' "Monsieur, you just were lucky. If your reflexes had failed you, a disaster would cause your unfortunate DEATH!"

"First of all, Mademoiselle, what gives you the idea of passing yourself off as me?" the Phantom was not at all amused by this charade.

"Why would I pass myself off as a senior prop manager?" The voice now seemed to be whispering mockingly into Erik's left ear.

"How ignorant can you be, child? I am the Phantom of the Opera!"

"Right! And I'm the Comte Philippe" a cloaked girl in her late teens landed in front of Erik without making a sound. The upper half of her face was obscured by a hood, which had two holes to show her deep, icy blue eyes. She gasped when she saw Erik's mask. "I apologize, Monsieur. I thought you were just a myth nowadays."

"Everyone does, Mademoiselle. And I want to keep it that way."

"Before you do anything rash, please hear me out. My mother would tell me amazing stories about you when I was little."

"Is that how you know that song you sang?"

"Yes. She'd sing many songs for me, in which she claimed to have been composed by you and the Angel of Music."

"We can't stay here for long. You can explain more back at the lake, Miss…"

"Just call me Crystal."

When they were in the middle of the lake, a hauntingly soothing sound seemed to come from the water depths. Erik placed a protective arm across Crystal as he saw her edging nearer to the side of the boat. "If you want the Siren to drag you into the inky black depths of the lake, be my guest," Erik was in a sense of humor knowing that the Siren hadn't lost her touch.

"The… Siren…?"

"She keeps intruders from coming near my home. Not very many have survived an attack by the Siren," Erik says to Crystal. He looks down into the water. "This girl is not an intruder. I invited her." The sound stopped, and Erik resumed rowing.

The lair still had its many candles, and the organ was repaired, not perfectly, but so it could still play. Erik sat down on a couch, and gestured Crystal to sit. "Continue on with your story, child."

Crystal sat in a chair across from Erik. "I was the daughter of a noble family; a renowned vicomte and a talented opera singer."

Erik's mind jumped with interest and curiosity. "Before you go on, I must ask you. Your parents wouldn't happen to be Raoul and Christine de Chagny?"

"That's right, and if my mother's stories were true, your name is Erik."

"It's sweet that my angel still thinks about me," Erik sighed in a trance. "But what are you doing down here of all places?"

"I'm just about to get to that. When I was only eight, the family mansion caught a deadly blaze. I was the only one to get out alive." Crystal choked a sob.

Erik was caught speechless. His darling Christine, gone from the world to be with her beloved father and the angels up in heaven.

"However, I ended up with THIS!" She took her hood off, revealing a permanent burn scar on the entire upper half of her face.

"I'm broke, I have no living relatives, and no one would believe that I survived. Once Lotte de Chagny, I am now just Crystal. My world has been torn apart." the girl fell into huge emotion, and unconsciously rested her weeping head on Erik's lap.

Erik pitied this child deeply. Being born ugly was one thing, but having your beauty and family taken away from you is cruel and unusual punishment. He stroked the teen's long, brown hair soothingly, almost fatherly like. "There there, child. Hush. It's not that bad." He spoke gently in his rich voice. He reluctantly took off his mask to show her his deformed right half of his face, which was similar to Crystal's scar.

Crystal, unable to control herself, wrapped her arms around Erik, and nestled her head on his shoulder. "Help me, guide me, Erik. You're all I have left," she pleaded.

Erik gave her a hug, and nodded in acceptance.

How is it? Like it, hate it?

This is going to be a one-shot, unless I get requests for more.