A/N: Modesty: Thanks for the really, really fast review! I am looking forward to reading your update. Yes it was dark and so was the next and I anticipate darker chapters coming soon! Stick with me.

AngelofMusic: I wanted Philippe to be a tool in this and to be much deeper that Leroux made him. I think in the book some of the characters often came across as hollow. Thank you for you review, I appreciate it.

Starfire: Is it Erik? Hmm… read on…

'To have no heroes is to have no aspiration, to live on the momentum of the past, to be thrown back upon routine, sensuality, and the narrow self...' Charles Cooley

Chapter 18- The Ghost.

Philippe knelt bolt upright, the shock had almost made him swallow his own tongue. He had been drinking most of the day, tired of gaining no attention from his intended he had decided to go for a short stroll. There he had seen his brother's wife wandering through the park and had felt compelled by something within to follow her. He had watched as her hips swung as she moved and he felt himself stir inside.

When Christine had walked into the wooded area he had been unable to stop himself from following her through, she had heard him a few times and he had managed to hide but she had realised she was being stalked and began to bolt. Fortunately, as it was at the time, she lost her footing and fell to the ground giving him the opportunity to catch up.

He wasn't sure what he was thinking when he pushed her back down, the alcohol had swished around in his mind and he clearly had not been thinking straight. However, she was beautiful if not common and if other men could have her why couldn't he? She had obviously … seen things, she cared less for Raoul than she was letting on and he wanted to know what men found so utterly attractive about Christine de Chagny.

Foolishly, as he had followed her, he had not realised that, he too, had been followed into the woods.

Philippe had heard nothing, absolutely nothing, until it was too late. By the time he heard the faint rustle from behind him, he had felt the distinct pressure of the point of a sword dead centre in his back. So now he sat with his hands by his sides, unmoving, and praying that he would be freed.

'If you touch her again I will push this through your back.'

The man had not shouted, nor had he raised his voice at all, he hadn't even emphasised the words by pushing the weapon forward but Philippe had no doubt that he would do it. It was the voice itself that gave it away. It was, although quiet, purely menacing in a way he had never heard before. The way the words rolled off his tongue with ease and no emotion shook Philippe to the core. There was no gravel, no harsh accent, it wasn't royalty nor was it peasant. It was unremarkable in such a way that it was unique. There would be no way that Philippe would ever find this man again, after today, by the sound of his voice alone.

'Sir…' he said and felt a gentle prod in his back. He stopped and closed his eyes, his heart slowing finally.

'Madame, shuffle backwards,' the man instructed and Christine looked at Philippe and did as she was told. She heaved herself backwards with her hands and finally she was out from under her brother-in-law's body. 'Now you, move backwards.'

Philippe tried to stand and the man hit him hard against the shoulder with the palm of his free hand. The force had sent him flying forward, to the floor, face first, landing on his front. His chest ached and he considered reaching for his weapon but though better of it… something told him that, if he did, it would be the last time he ever held a sword.

'Come,' came the voice from behind him and he saw Christine struggle to her feet and limp around him to the man. Was this someone she knew? 'You.'

'Yes?' Philippe said, trying to hide his fear.

'Stand but don't turn around.' Intimidating. Philippe eased himself onto his feet and stepped forward, away from the voice. 'Keep going.'

He did, Philippe walked ahead without turning until he was sure he had created enough distance between himself and the man behind him. As he started to feel safe he looked over his shoulder slowly and saw nothing but blackness in the distance. There was no man nor Christine, the whole woods seemed as empty as the night itself. He stepped back, straining his eyes to see something, anything, but he saw nothing.

Just as he began to believe that his mind had been playing tricks on him, due to his drinking that day, he caught a glimpse of something in the distance. He moved forward slightly to get a better look and as he did it became slightly clearer. What he saw was a glimpse of white light, or was it a light? No, it wasn't but it was white and it was small in the distance and moving further away. He strained his eyes once again and as he did he realised that what was staring back at him was a half mask and the colour suddenly fell out of Philippe's face.

He looked like he had just seen a ghost.