Because I love you all, I write many more chapters! Wheee! This one had one of those dramatic father moments. We all get one of those eventually.

Chapter 4: The Blood Ghost

Erik had watched Amile grow four more years until she was eight years old. She went up to box five with him now all the time. He couldn't believe how she had matured. From a partially insane four year old to a beautiful eight year old that acted as though she was thirteen. She could play piano now without any mistake whatsoever. But now she was taking on what her father did so well. She was now very sneaky and quiet. She was clever and used her hearing to her advantage. Any sound, small to huge, she could hear. She also felt around and could find her way around the lair now with no problem.

The "Opera Ghost" had been sighted again obviously. Amile heard it go through the opera house like wildfire. It amused her. It was making her proud to know that her father scared other people when he was not even all the way sighted. But she didn't know what made him so scary. He never told her about his mask or his face. If she couldn't see it, he wouldn't say it. She had heard of these sightings a couple times in a year. Rarely though. Erik was not one to show himself often. Just make himself known. As she heard it, she smiled. Inspiration struck her. She found her blanket and ran off.

Dodging the traps she had known about for years, she made her way up to the theatre. She did her regular crawl under the stairs and go into the rafters backstage. She did this every now and then. Other than annoying people and hearing much like a bat, Amile was a great eavesdropper. Erik used that to his advantage and made her listen to the manager about what shows were coming soon. She sat in the rafters in a cat-like position, her blanket pulled tightly around her. And suddenly, her eavesdropping skills were very useful. "My God, did you see him? That face! White as snow! Hate to see him in a dark alley."

"Oh Joseph. He's a myth, someone was playing a prank."

"No Robert, this man is real. I'm not sure he is a man."

"Wasn't he like, a freak in a circus or something?"

"The circus? Ha! You shame yourself Andre. I heard he was pulled out from the sewers."

"Well, I heard that he was a man until he killed a witch's son and she turned his face into one big deformity."

Amile blinked. They weren't talking about her father, were they? But they were. And that made her angry. "SHUT UP!" she screamed! There was a silence followed by a man screaming. "It's a ghost! It's all bloody!" She realized they were talking about her. Panicking, she ran as fast as she could. She made her way back to the lair and hid behind her bed, pulling her blanket over her.

Erik was coming back from his latest lesson with Christine when he heard people talking about a ghost. But from the sound of it, it wasn't him. "I swaer Madame Giry! It was all red and it screamed and ran. I knew it was blood!" Erik let it sink in when he realized, Amile had been seen. She was never seen without the red blanket that she loved so much. He broke into a run to his lair.

He found her behind the bed, hiding either from him or the managment. He took the blanket off of her and looked straight at her. "That was you they were talking about up there, wasn't it?" She closed her eyes tightly and nodded. He felt his anger rise. "You let yourself be seen? By those people of all people! They would have killed you if you were close enough! What were you thinking!?! That was so stupid of you! I would expect better of you!" She started crying. "I-I'm sorry daddy! I didn't know they would see me! I didn't know they were there. B-but then they started talkin' about you and I got mad and yelled at them and then they got scared and..." She trailed off and started crying again. His gaze softened. She didn't mean to be seen and she didn't know. She had never really seen color before so she didn't know red was so bright. He sighed and stroked her hair. She stopped sobbing and just sniffled. "Are you mad at me?" she asked gently. He shook his head. "No, I wasn't mad Amile. I was..." He couldn't find the right word. Then he found it. "I was scared." She stopped altogether. "You were scared?" "Yes. I was scared that you would have gotten hurt or even worse. I can't let that happen." She nodded, showing that she understood, then stopped again. "Those people said something about your face. They said it was all, de-def, something." His heart stopped. She knew? He felt as though his stomach had been glazed over with ice. "Th-they said that?" She nodded. "Yeah, what did they mean?" He stood up and looked down at her. Then he picked her up. She was a little bit difficult to pick up because she was now more grown up. He set her on the sofa and sat next to her. "Amile, please understand. I'm not like anyone else. I don't look like anyone. My face, is, well, messed up. When I was born, something happened to me and made my face different. I have to wear a mask so no one sees it. I never told you because you never saw it." She nodded. "I understand daddy. Am I like that? I mean, am I all messed up 'cause I can't see?" He stroked her hair gently. "No Amile, you're different. You are going to see eventually. I promise."