Authors Note: Sorry for the long delay, I've been having trouble logging in. These are the last two chapters for this story. After the end there will be a sequel. It may be posted a few days from now and for those who are interested in what the ship will be, I'll give you one hint.

Triumverate.

It will be written in the same style as this story, from three different viewpoints. If that's going to be too difficult to read, please tell me now.


Erik: I pounded away at my organ piano furiously. I slammed my fists down and screamed. I had been defeated, utterly humiliated, and my love had ridden away on a white horse. I no longer held love within my heart, it was all an angry black abyss.

I had followed Christine down to her father's mausoleum, hoping against hope that she had thought about my earlier words. I had watched, mesmerized, as she sang for her father. Her voice rang out with purity, resilience, and beauty. She sang at her top peak, just as I had taught her, and it was as grand as the Gala night. I called to her, asking her to come to me, to be my love and life.

Then that lowly son of a bitch Raoul intercepted us! What a charming little Prince on his white horse, coming to rescue his Princess. I charged him, brandishing my sword. We fought for Christine, and we fought to the death. I wanted to kill him, right then and there, however, my experience with swords has been limited to books and solo practice; erstwhile Raoul De Chagney had been trained with top performers and had the knowledge of real combat that I lacked.

He bested me, ready to stab me as I would have done to him, yet Christine screamed. My heart lept with joy! Had she come to her senses? Ready to give me a helping hand and leave with her Angel? Yet No! She bade Raoul to spare me, but did not help me to my feet.

She left me, cold and humiliated, in the snow. I watched her leave with him, and that was when my love turned to loathing. I did not want Christine as my partner now, I wanted her so that Raoul could never have her. She had clearly made her choice, I was nothing to her, but when love consumes a person they burn with desire, and I was on fire.

I hit the organ piano, no longer playing anything comprehensible. I stood up in a moment of fury, kicking the bench. I screamed, and then fell to my knees. I cried as I pulled my mask off, letting the tears mingle with the water.

I looked up, and then stood. I cried as I backed up, and then took a flying leap with my arms spread straight into the lake. However, in my despair, I had forgotten how shallow the water was, and rather than drown, I hit the flat edge of a sharp rock, my stomach taking the brunt of the fall.

Pain seared through me, and I saw the water dyed red with blood. I placed my face into the water and let my body sink as low as it could. My lungs burned and my body cried out in agony. I felt myself gasping for air, and all I could see was the dark, red blood.

I began to feel dizzy as my lungs languished in agony. Soon I was thrashing about and I lifted my head out of the water. I gasped as I breathed in the cool, damp air. If this was how long it took for someone to drown, then I supposed I should hang myself instead.

I walked out of the water, my body screaming in pain as I looked down. My shirt was ripped and blood and water had soaked it through. I tore it off and gaped at the large, thick gash across my stomach. I marched over to the curtain that hid my private bathroom.

I grabbed several towels and some gauze, and began to clean myself off. It was hard to find clear water that had not been swirled with blood, but I managed to wash off. I winced as I placed the gauze on the various wounds, not just my stomach but my arms and legs as well. I stood up and faltered.

I was weak, dizzy, and had barely enough time to reach my bed before I passed out.

Ann: The first time we heard the score for Don Juan, we were shocked. Not only was it written in difficult half-tones, but the lyrics were utterly atrocious. Of course I knew this was the type of Opera Erik would write, but it was hardly appropriate for Paris Society.

The ballet troupe kept messing up their moves, and only Megan appeared to understand the score at all. Carlotta threw a major fit after she realized how small her part was, and then, as usual, she walked out. Christine practiced with Piangi, but I knew who would really play Don Juan.

I didn't know how he would pull it off; sleeping potion in Piangi's drink, or a knock upside the head? Dear God, I prayed, lets hope Erik wouldn't actually kill Piangi.

I also prayed in the weeks we practiced that nothing would upset the performance. I wanted it all to go smoothly, as much for Erik's sake as for the Opera. If the opening night proved well, and the reviews weren't too condescending, then perhaps Erik could come out, he could walk amongst Paris and know that his Opera had been a success.

Of course, if it wasn't a success, who would pay the price? I had my ballet troupe practice day and night, and made the chorus learn how to sing in half-notes.

Things went on as they always did the weeks before a performance, except this was no ordinary performance.

Erik: I must give Raoul credit for one thing. His mind is more abnormal than the one used in Frakensteins monster. He actually told the managers, the employees, and Christine all about his little Capture Plot, right inside the Opera!

Everyone knows The Opera Ghost is the eyes and ears of the Opera. There is nothing that escapes me, even a plot about Police. Authority means little to me. I watched as he explained his ideas, and planned my own little idea.

I would sneak up on Piangi after Act II, before the scene Point of No Return. I would then use my voice to ensnare and entrance the audience, even the Fop would be powerless under my vocal spell. Of course I was worried a bit, because both Antoinette and Christine had become accustomed to my voice, and I did not want either of them to give away my pretense.

Megan herself had heard me several times, and I was unsure if she could be bespelled. Only time would tell, and the time was now. I donned my costume, adjusted my wig, and decided that the last bit of my plan would be the Grand Finale. I had no intentions of letting them finish Don Juan, for both the main actors would disappear.

I would grab Christine, wether or not she was willing, and let the Grand Chandelier fall. I had already cut the main cords, and all it would take was one little snip for chaos to ensue. I wanted to run away with Christine, far away from the Opera and France itself. I needed her more than anything, and if she was not willing, then I would force her.

She had no choice now, for I knew that if I let her go, she would run to Raoul. I hoped that bastard burned when the Chandelier fell. I didn't care if they all burned, except for Ann and her daughter. I wondered if they would be able to find a way out.

Ann wouldn't be stupid enough to chase after me, she knew that what Erik wants, Erik gets, and I was going to get what I wanted.