A/N: Sorry for the delay... I'm not a fan of this chapter but it is relevant so here it is. LOL, hope you like it.

I appreciate the reviews!

Chapter 10- Discoveries

Rebecca sat trembling in her own apartment, her hands shook violently around the mug she was grasping and she stared at the door. She had honestly thought he was going to kill her and when he didn't she hadn't quite known what to do. He had jumped up so quickly with an unbelievable agility that she had not even had time to panic, not even with his hands gripping her collar. His anger was obvious and she stuttered as she answered his questions, although why he was asking so many questions, she did not know. His eyes were furious and even in their cold blue there it was as if there was an orange streak, burning into her own eyes.

He had terrified her.

However, as quickly as he picked her up he had dropped her and stared down at her slumped against the chair. Or at least she assumed he was staring at her, until she looked at him more closely. She realised he wasn't staring at her at all, he was staring right through her. She could tell, even with her limited intelligence, that he was barely even in the room. His mind was ticking over. And this time it was her turn to stare at him, his face, or at least the part of it she could see, was like stone. There was no expression and no colour, it could have been marble if there had been some gleam of light on it. All she could see, the life about him, was in his eyes.

And they were beautiful eyes.

She had found him interesting more than anything, she didn't feel any attraction on her part and there was certainly none on his. He barely even recognised that she was a woman, particularly the way he grabbed her and heaved her out of the chair. She had felt like a child in his grasp as she realised his power. And suddenly he was almost attractive to her although frightening. The man was obviously a lunatic but he was a powerful lunatic.

And he had money.

She had seen him throw money at Robert like it was simply dirt making a nuisance of itself. Of course that was the main reason she had gone into his room, she had to seem thankful and she had spotted his French accent with some curiosity. It would give her something to talk to him about, alone in London, he must have been lonely and in some need of female company. Obviously she hadn't anticipated him throwing her up in the air and bearing down on her like a lion with his prey. Nor had she anticipated him being so cold, so emotionless, that is until the mention of the trouble the Chagnys were in. Odd.

But what about the mask?

Now that, she admitted to herself, was stranger than the conversation. He had snapped viciously at her when she had mentioned it and he didn't make any move to take it off, even though he was in his own room. The mask seemed simple enough from a distance, just a white cover which veiled half of his face, leaving a strong jaw and one bright eye clearly visible. However, when he had wrenched her from the floor and she had been close to it she noticed that it was a stone of some kind and not wood, as she would have estimated. And it didn't have a mark on it. She wondered what it was that he was hiding behind it and decided that she was probably better off not knowing, particularly factoring in his temper.

Break/ Break/ Break/ Break/ Break/ Break/ Break/ Break/ Break/ Break/ Break/ Break/ Break

The room was dank and damp with smoke rising to the discoloured ceiling and lingering there, leaving the room with an unpleasant odour and a more unpleasant atmosphere. The bar keeper was a rotund man with a red face and was standing speaking with a well dressed gentleman in the corner of the room, there were two more gentlemen in the opposite corner having a conversation that no one really wished to overhear and finally, there were two men sitting on hard wooden stools at the harder wooden bar.

Robert could hardly believe his ears as he sat at the bar with an old friend in a seedy public house sipping badly fermented whiskey. He was so astonished that he had to ask his friend to recount the details once more, just for clarity.

'Seriously.' His friend said, gauging Robert's reaction. 'About 8 years ago it was, in Paris. I can't believe you haven't heard!'

'No, no, I haven't. Tell me again,' Robert said, eyes wide with anticipation. 'From the beginning'

'Well, in Paris there is a beautiful Opera house and in that opera house was a ghost. He haunted it for years and years until he met a woman there. I don't know all the details but he murdered two men!'

'Two men?' Robert asked, as if he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. His friend nodded slowly with a grave look on his face.

'Yes, two men. And then kidnapped that girl and fled the cellars of all places!' He continued. 'A mob followed him but when they got there he had vanished. Disappeared into thin air!'

'And the girl?' Asked Robert?

'She was found with her fiance and she was fine and she hasn't spoken a word of it since. Said she didn't remember any of it. He was just gone.'

'Wow…'

'Well… the police are still looking for him! He did kill those poor souls… they think he might be dead though. I did until you told me what you saw! It must be the same man! He wore a mask! Over half of his face, as you described.'

Rpbert stared at his friend and swallowed hard, had he really had a confrontation with this man that day? And then the horror shot through his veins.

He had had a confrontation with that man and that man had murdered two men without any care or remorse. Suddenly he felt very sick and excused himself saying that he needed to get home as he was tired and must be awake early the next day. He was well aware without any mirror that the colour had drained completely from his face and, as he was leaving through the bar door, struggling to compose himself enough to get his coat on, his friend shouted after him.

'They call him the Phantom of the Opera!'