Four reviews! Not too shabby. You ready Erik?

Erik: I was born ready...

Here we go!

darklady5289: Congratulations on being the first to review the new fic! Thanks for your comments, it's great to hear from you again!

Erik: Does she have any idea how many times I've watched The Phantom of the Opera? I appreciate Gerard Butler's talent, but there's only so many times I can watch him with a dozen phan-girls drooling over my shoulders...

babygrl258: Ahh, the one formerly known as phantomfreak258. I swear Erik, if you jip her on closet time this story...

Erik: Alright, alright! We'll have some time tonight. We'll even watch Phantom of the Opera if it will please her!

Anyways, thank you for your comments... I hope this fic doesn't disappoint...

Tadriendra of Mirkwood: Perhaps not first on the review list, but always first in my heart! Yay, my proofreader is back!

Erik: Abbot and Costello? I have no sense of humour!

Oh, sure you do! You were quite amused watching people get decapitated in all those horror films...

Erik: OK, my sense of humour leans towards the more morbid...

Oh, give Abbot and Costello a chance! You know who I love? Mel Brooks! Space Balls, Silent Movie, Young Frankenstein... He's hilarious!

Erik: Whatever... next!

Starrylibra: A new reader! Welcome! Thank you for your comments! I hope you like this fic.

Erik: And I hope you like dark closets...

Anyway, no sense in stalling the new chapter any longer... Enjoy!

XxXxX

Erik spun around to see a dark shape looming before him in the darkness.

"Y-your home?" Erik said incredulously.

"Yes… This is my theatre…"

"Your theatre?"

"Is there an echo in here?"

The voice was female. She stepped closer so that he could make out her form. She wore a black, form-fitting dress with long flowing sleeves, and a black cloak that covered her shoulders and fell to the floor. Her hair was silky and black and she seemed pale… No… She was wearing a white porcelain mask that covered half of her face, leaving only her lips exposed.

Pouty, luscious red lips that looked so delicious… So very kissable…

Erik shook his head and gave himself a mental slap. What was he thinking? This woman was trespassing! Trespassers had to be dealt with!

Erik drew his sword, pointing it at her. She merely smiled, those tempting lips parting to reveal a perfect set of white teeth. She drew her own sword, gently pushing his aside as he stared at her in awe.

"Do you think it wise?" she asked. "Challenging the Phantom of the Opera to a duel?"

"You're a woman!" he exclaimed.

The Phantom looked down at her form: curvy hips, thin waist, and a rather full bust. Looking up again, she feigned surprise. "Well, whatta ya know?"

Lashing out, she struck with her sword. Erik barely blocked her.

"You're no Phantom!" he bellowed.

"Oh, and you are?" she shot back.

The two duelled back and forth in a deadly dance, a tricky feat in the narrow passageway. Much to Erik's dismay, this woman knew what she was doing. She was experienced. And Erik had not lifted a sword in over five years. He could feel she was winning. She was pushing him back.

He would need a miracle to survive this…

They were locked in a death grip. Erik had only one advantage over this girl – strength. He pushed against her, pinning her blade against the stone wall. She glared daggers at him, attempting to free her weapon. It was to no avail.

With a mad cry, she let go of her sword and went for Erik's throat with her bare hands. This swift, violent motion caused Erik to drop his sword. He desperately tried to remove her hands from his throat, but she was latched on tight. She squeezed hard, cutting off his air supply.

Erik gasped for breath as he stared at her face. Those deep brown eyes… Those perfect lips… And that stupid mask!

"Drop this pretence!" he gasped. "You are not the Opera Ghost!" With that, he freed one hand and tore the mask from her face.

Erik gasped at what he saw. She released him and backed away, horrified.

Her face… It was marred and distorted with burn scars. The skin was red and blotchy and resembled melted plastic. She had no eyebrows. The skin over her right eye drooped downwards in a sad expression. The skin was pulled tight across her cheeks. Her nose was shrivelled up. The only part of her that looked normal was her perfect lips!

Erik could not turn his face away from her visage. He couldn't move. He couldn't even speak! Was this how people felt when they looked at him? Were these feelings that she stirred in him the same as those he stirred in others?

"WHAT?" she screamed. "What are you staring at?"

Erik took a slow, shaky step towards her.

"Are you going to laugh? Scream? Run? Are you going to say something cruel? Are you going to beat me?"

Erik said nothing, taking another step forward.

"Why don't you just kill me?" she screamed as she flew forward, beating her fists against his broad chest. "I HATE YOU!"

Then she broke down and began sobbing into his chest as her fingers desperately clutched the front of his shirt. Erik felt incredibly uncomfortable. He hated it when females cried around him. Plus, the wench was getting his shirt wet! Erik didn't know what else to do, so he slowly put his arms around her shoulders and held her as she sobbed uncontrollably in his arms.

"Please…" she choked. "Just kill me…"

Erik sighed as she buried her face in his chest once again. He knew how she felt… Humiliated, exposed, vulnerable, but most of all, afraid.

He needed the courage to show her she wasn't alone…

Erik sighed heavily. When did he become so soft? "Around the same time the little wench started crying," a voice in the back of his mind told him.

"Well… Here goes everything…" He pulled back from her a bit and looked into her tear-stained eyes.

"Don't be scared," he said gently. She gazed at him inquiringly. Then he reached up and removed his own mask. He cast his gaze to the floor, afraid to meet her no-doubt horrified stare. His sensitive ears picked up a small gasp and a whimper as she beheld his deformed features – his inhumanly pale skin, twisted and ugly, the way his eyelid drooped so that it was almost possible to see his eye-socket, the bumpy mess that was his nose, his misshapen brow and protruding cheek bone… A face a mother couldn't love…

"You're… you're the Phantom…" she whispered. "The real Phantom…"

He responded with a nod. He raised his eyes, daring to meet her gaze. She looked at him in awe.

"I… I thought you must be dead," she said quietly. Suddenly, her eyes glazed over and she gave him a hard kick in the shins.

Erik cried out in pain. "Geez, woman! What did you do that for?" he bellowed.

"For killing Joseph Buquet and being a general asshole!" she shouted. Snatching her mask from him, she attempted to run, but he caught her around the waist and held her back.

"Let me go!" she shrieked.

"I think not!" Erik returned. He smiled. She was quite the spitfire!

"Let me go!"

Erik spun her around and pinned her against a wall. "You're not going anywhere until you tell me how you came to be here!"

XxXxX

The Phantom sat huddled in the boat as Erik steered it towards home.

"Well," she sighed. "I suppose it's time to relive my fall from grace… I didn't always look like this." She pointed at her face, which was covered by the mask once more. "I used to look… normal. I was a ballerina at this very opera house at one time. Almost as good as Meg Giry. Madame Giry said I had the makings of a prima ballerina. A few more years of hard work would have made all my dreams come true…

"I was engaged to a handsome lawyer. Albert was his name," she whispered dreamily. "He treated me like a queen… Told me I was beautiful…" Her tone became hard again… "It was that night… The night Don Juan Triumphant opened. I was dancing… Everything was perfect! When I was done, I went back into the wings to rest. Then… then I heard screaming. I went out onto the stage… Just as the chandelier fell…" She paused, closing her eyes. When she opened them again, she looked up at him, her expression unamused. "Guess who got stuck in the flames?"

She sighed. "It hurt… It hurt so much… I could feel my face burning… And there was so much smoke… I couldn't breathe… There was so much pain, I could hardly bear it. I thought I was going to die. Then someone grabbed me and pulled me out of there. I don't know who. Some viscount, I was told. Ralph, or Raoul, or something de Champy, I think. Queer name… I don't remember him at all, because I was unconscious when he finally got me to safety. The next thing I remember is waking up in a hospital. My 'hero' was gone by then…" She let the sentence drop. With every word she spoke, Erik felt his heart growing heavier with guilt.

In his lust for Christine he had hurt so many… Including this innocent young woman before him. She was lucky she hadn't died that night. The only reason she was alive was because of his rival… Raoul de Chagny… He stopped to save her from a painful death, even as Erik whisked his beloved away to his dungeon below the opera house.

Raoul had been the true hero that night… Erik was a selfish monster!

"I guess Albert couldn't stand the sight of my hideous face…" the Phantom continued. "He broke our engagement! And Andre and Firmin… they fired me! Said I was emotionally unstable, but the truth was they just didn't want an ugly ballerina! They wanted those pretty little things like Meg Giry to dance for them! So I was just out of damn luck!" She dropped her head. "Madame Giry wanted to help… She brought me here… Said I could survive here…"

"You became the Phantom…" Erik said.

"She told me another Phantom used to live here… I thought he must have died… Or that perhaps he was just a fable."

"Well, as you can see," Erik said, "I am quite real."

The boat glided through the water in silence, until at last they arrived at the lair.

XxXxX

Well, Erik? What do you think?

Erik: Hmm... I could have done without that weird girl getting all clingy and me being all sympathetic and such, but hey, it's your fic.

What, you want me to keep portraying as a cold, emotionless man?

Erik: Need I answer that?

Oh, you're hopeless! I really needed that four-week vacation from you!

Erik: It's been lonely and cold in here for the last four weeks. I could use someone to come and warm me up!

Well, I thought you'd never ask! (Heads for closet).

Erik: Huh? No! Not again! Someone please review! Augh! She's crazy! What? Don't touch that! You're insane!

'Tis my pride. Wow, you're really, really soft!

Erik: Stop cuddling me!

Erik and I will be watching Texas Chainsaw Massacre in his closet while you guys read this chapter. You're all welcome to come join us – as soon as you review. Erik likes it if you bring popcorn.

Erik: And clodhoppers… Those things were good…

See you all tomorrow! Erik, stop hogging the couch!