A/N: This chapter is a tad bit short. Very sorry. And thanks for all your reviews!

Chapter Eleven

"Shadows of a Mother"

Claire sat alone in her dorm room. Pandemonium was still raging outside in the halls the sounds of which drifted in through the closed door. Claire sat stone still. Her mind still refused to except that Erik had killed the Comte. Yes, Erik had loathed him but why kill him? Why go that far? Why?

A sharp knock to the door started Claire from her thoughts. "Come in."

The door opened and an Officer walked in. He was not very tale and his stomach seemed to spill over his belt that held up his pants. "Are you Claire Daaé?" He asked dryly.

"I am she." Answered Claire in an equally dry tone.

"I am told you knew the late Comte de Gabriel, is this true?"

"Yes," Nodded Claire.

"What was your relation to the late Comte?" Asked the Officer taking out a pad and pen.

"My father had chosen him as my fiancé, I refused to marry him. The Comte asked for my hand again and I refused." Claire left out some things for she did not want the Officer to pin a motive to murder on her. She also wanted to keep Erik out of it. "I have not seen him since his last proposal." And that was close to being true, she had indeed not seen him since Opening Night.

"Where were you at the time of the late Comte's death?"

"In my dressing room making ready for the night's performance."

"Thank you for your time Miss Daaé." And the Officer left the room closing the door behind him.

Claire made up her mind that she had to confront Erik about this. She stood and left her room. The halls were still all abuzz with chorus members but Claire did not have as much trouble getting through them as before. She racked her brain trying to remember where the dressing room with the mirror had been. After half an hour of searching she found it. It was as dark as she remembered but the mirror did not shine as before. She placed a hand on the mirror's cold surface. How had she passed through it before? Her hand traveled across the mirror until…at the place where the mirror met the wall there was a small indentation in which one could place their hand. Claire took a firm grip and pulled. The mirror slid to the side into the wall revealing the long dark passage that Claire had walked down what seemed like ages ago. She shivered as she entered the passage; the air was cold and stale. She could hear a distant dripping sound of water. "Erik!" She called hoping he would somehow guide her steps to him.

"Turn away…" Whispered what almost sounded like a wisp of wind.

"Who is there?" Asked Claire shakily.

"Go back…" Said the ghostly voice.

Claire shivered as a cold draft drifted into the passage. "Who are you?"

"Go back! I order you!"

Suddenly something cold grabbed Claire's wrist; it was a hand, a bone-like, clammy hand that smelt of rotting flesh. Claire cried out as she was dragged roughly back up the passage.

The shape that the hand belonged to was ghostly thin and was shrouded in black. It was not Erik.

Claire cried again as she was thrown to the ground outside the mirror. She turned around quickly trying to see who had dragged her but all she saw was a black shape retreating back down the passage as the mirror snapped closed. Claire jumped up and tried to open the mirror again but it would not move an inch. "What on Earth is going on?" Claire called out to Erik again…nothing. She called yet again. Silence she was about to leave when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned round and there, finally, was Erik but he looked different. His face looked more careworn then normal, his hair was disheveled, and he wore only pants and a white shirt instead of his normal dress suit.

"Come." He said extending his hand.

Claire fought the urge to bombard Erik with questions as she took his hand. He led her through the mirror, which opened for him, down passages and stairs until they came to the lake. Claire let Erik help her into the boat and she watched him as he silently rowed them across the lake with grace. Claire could not help noticing how different this was to the last time she'd come here. That time they had sung their hearts out to each other but this time it was dead silent. The silence was thick almost tangible as they finally reached the other shore. Claire once again aloud Erik to help her this time out of the boat. She noted that there were now stacks of sheet music everywhere. Erik had obviously been very busy. But Claire did not linger long on those thoughts. "How do you know Amelie Pinon?" She blurted out.

Erik visibly stiffened but did not answer.

Claire felt her anger rising again. Why couldn't Erik ever answer just one of her questions! "Fine don't answer me!" She spat. "But let me ask, why did you have to kill the Comte? You could have just left it at a warning you did not have to go that far!"

"The Comte is dead?" Asked Erik.

"Don't play with me, Erik! You already knew he was dead! You killed him!" Claire nearly yelled.

"I did not kill him." Said Erik calmly. "Though the news of his death is music to my ears." A slight edge of malice ebbed into his voice.

Claire was taken slightly aback. "You didn't kill him?"

"No, I did not."

"Then…who did?" Claire's question hung in the air for a long few moments.

"I did!" Came an echoing voice that seemed to come from everywhere at once.

Claire looked about for the source of the voice. It was the same one that had whispered to her earlier but Claire could swear she had heard somewhere else as well. And then as she looked to one of the stairs she saw it. A young woman stood at the top of the stairs. Claire watched in horror as the young woman walked slowly down the stairs. A black dress robe hung on her ghastly thin frame, her hair, as black as the robe, seemed hardly attached to her head as though it might fall out at any moment, her eyes were sunken and the skin round them was black but not by bruising. She was now half way down the stairs.

"I told you not to leave your room." Said Erik softly to her.

Claire found herself slowly backing away from her in fear as the smell of rotting flesh reached her nostrils.

"What is wrong, Claire?" Asked the woman looking at Claire. "Don't recognize me?"

"Go back to your room." Said Erik more forcefully this time.

The woman ignored him staring at Claire. "It's your old friend, Claire. It's me."

The tension and fear that had been building in Claire released itself in the form of a scream as she looked into that living corps' eyes. She knew those eyes! They were Amelie's!

"That is enough!" Yelled Erik running to Amelie (if it was indeed Amelie!) and forcing her back up the stairs.

Claire lay where she had fallen from fright shaking from head to toe. That could not have been Amelie! It was impossible! She sat up curling into a ball and rocking herself back and forth.

"Claire…" Erik was standing before her once again, Amelie was gone.

Suddenly Claire jumped up. "What did you do to her! What happened to her! Tell me! Who is she!"

"She is…my daughter."

Claire's eyes widened, she took a staggering step back. "What? But before…her face!"

"Yes, she did not inherit my cursed face but something far worse." Said Erik looking away.

Claire could not get her mind around this. How was it even possible for Amelie to be Erik's daughter? How? How…? Then she remembered what Madame Giry had told her. Her mother had left with Erik for a time. For how long a time? Was it even…? "She's my sister, isn't she?" Whispered Claire looking at Erik.

"You were never meant to know…" Erik's voice too was low.

"So you were never going to tell me!" Shouted Claire. "You didn't even tell me about you and my mother! Did you think if I didn't know then I'd love you!" She felt her nails dig into her flesh as she clenched her fists. "I was right. You only love me because I'm my mother's daughter! It's because I look like her! You don't love me you love her! Well, I am not my mother…and I do not love you." Before she had to see the betrayal on Erik's face she turned and ran towards the water. But before she reached it she felt a hand grab her arm. "Let me go!" She knew it was Erik. She twisted her arm trying to break free but she couldn't. She felt another hand come round her neck, she made a desperate scream as she felt his fingers tighten.

"I'm not letting you get away from me again!"

Claire felt her throat and chest constrict as she fought for air, strangled noses escaping her lips.

"You will never leave here!"

Claire gasped as she was thrown to the ground, her breath was rapid and gasping. But in a moment she was pulled roughly to her feet again and dragged back into the lair and up the stairs. She fought with all her might against Erik but it was no use. She was thrown into a room the door slammed behind her. She banged on the door with her fists yelling and screaming. But the door would not give and there was no answer to her cries. Finally exhausted she collapsed to the floor. After long moments she came back to herself and looked round the room, it was well light by candles. There was a large four-poster bed covered in black silk and a vanity across from it. She sat on the bed, took out her small dairy, which she always kept with her, and began to write down the events that had just taken place. Maybe if she wrote them down she could finally realize them as real. But dairy or no, the fact was she was trapped in the Phantom's Lair.

A/N: Next chapter may be a little while coming. I'm in the midst of writing it and God knows when I'll be done let alone happy with it. So to my readers just hang in there!