Maska: Yes, suspense, the one thing there must be in the books I read. On I go! (trumpet sound)
Phantomess80: I shall keep going!
Emma-J-Riddle: You shall see in this chapter!
ThetrinityJ: I shall when I have time.
"Mother, you must tell me what happened!"
Diane was sitting on her small, but comfortable bed. Her mother sat in a chair across from her. After receiving the letter that demanded truth and the secret story, Christine had traveled from Perros back to Paris, and once inside this new opera house, shuddered at its likeness to the old one. Instead of writing back her chilling tale, she had come here, in fear of this information getting into the wrong hands.
Diane folded her arms and looked directly into her mother's eyes. Christine was unable to hold that gaze and looked down. Although that look was her own, she could not bear to look into it without feeling guilt.
"Why didn't you tell me? What can't you tell me?"
Christine sighed resignedly. "I feared for your safety. I'm not sure of what could harm you. Love, maybe..."
Diane looked at her mother, confusion written on her face as if she was a book.
"Love?"
Christine nodded. "When I first came to the opera house, and orphan, I used to believe and Angel of Music would come and protect me. My wish partly came true. I was about your age, when I heard the most beautiful voice, which taught me how to sing, and guided me into a dream-like happiness. Then, after my first performance when pouring out my soul, I met your father."
She paused, as if she were afraid to continue.
"But the Voice, the angelic sound that I heard in my dressing room, refused me to love your father. I eventually ran away. I had found that the Voice was nothing more than a man. An ugly deformed man of great insanity. And yet, I pitied him. But, because I stayed to try and soften my flight, the opera house lay in ruins."
And Christine told her daughter the whole story, every agonizing detail.
"One day, after your father and me were married, Erik appeared at my door. He wore no mask. He told about how they were building a new opera house across the street from the place where the old one had been. He also told me of how at night he would build an exact replica of his house and torture chambers."
Diane interrupted. "Why would he tell you? And how could he manage to come and see you, after all of that?"
Her mother shrugged. "I suppose he just needed to tell someone. But, he told me, that he would no longer play role of the Phantom. No, he said that it was not his theatre, So, he left all of his musical works there for someone to stumble on. He also told me... of something else."
Diane was at the edge of her bed, longing to hear more of this story.
"What, what did he say?"
"Well, I'm not sure what he meant, but he said that the Phantom would come back reborn, whether he liked it or not... That's exactly what he said."
The story was finished. Christine sighed, leaning back in her chair. She hadn't spoke of her past since it had happened.
Diane's eyes were wide, and she gasped with pure amazement.
"I though that the opera ghost was just a story to tell the little ballerinas to frighten them! I never thought that he was a real person..."
Christine nodded. "He was, but he disappeared after he spoke with me. He had said that like there would be a new phantom... an heir of sorts."
Diane shrugged. "But I still don't understand what you couldn't have told me."
"I didn't want this to happen to you! If the phantom returns, I fear for your health! Now that you know, you must be very careful."
Diane nodded, embracing her mother tenderly as she felt her shake with fear.
"Don't worry. I'll be careful. Don't worry."