Disclaimer: I do not own Erik, daroga, or other references of Leroux's novel. They belong to the author that created them.

A/N: Okay, well… this is the turning point of part one of my story—the unmasking scene—everyone's favorite part of Phantom of the Opera. I do hope you enjoy this chapter enough to give me a review --squeals—I will give any new reviewer a lollipop… PLEASE! To my other faithful reviewers, I graciously bow to you. You keep me motivated… So enjoy…. Next update should be next weekend! ENJOY!

Chapter 11- Answers to Unanswered Questions

Nearly jumping out of my skin, I hurled the book in the direction William stood. He, of course, dodged it. The corners of his mouth were so ever slightly upturned. He was smiling at me at me in his own way.

"You are playing with me!" I stood up abruptly and put my hand in his pale one. Looking into his eyes that were expressionless, my other hand caressed his jaw-line. He moaned deeply as he pushed my hands away and turned his back to me.

"Stop it, Stacy," he sternly whispered.

"Why," I asked a little more harshly than I intended. His back still faced me, but I envisioned that he winced slightly when I asked.

When he turned around, I felt that familiar coldness I now have grown accustomed.

He stoically remarked, "When we go out to dinner, I will answer all of your questions." Extending his arm out to me in a polite gesture, I accepted graciously and walked to the black mustang with him.

The air was very cold and the sleet sprinkled down. I got in the car after he courteously opened the door to the car's passenger side. I shivered, nestling further in my coat for warmth, as William got in on the other side silently.

Not one word was spoken between him and me. To thwart the uncomfortable atmosphere, I attempted to turn on the CD player. That failed. Rap music blasted his speakers and I panicked.

In my panic, I pressed various buttons all at once to turn the stupid thing down. William smirked and pressed the button right in front of me which then classical music from Tchaikovsky echoed.

I gazed out of my window, and my cheeks flushed a bright pink. Muttering a soft apology, I sank lower in my seat.

The sleet began to taper off; I absorbed the beautiful nature sceneries. Nothing was said for twenty minutes. We pulled into the parking lot and parked in the car in the back in the private section. Meeting the host, he guided us to the secluded part of the restaurant to our table.

Once seated and all was situated, I glanced at William whom I found sitting erect, hands folded together. It was apparent he was waiting for me.

Therefore, I took a deep breath and began to ask my questions.

"Did you kill Hugh Blakeman?"

"Yes."

"How many people did you assassinate when you were brainwashed?"

"Eleven."

"All older men?"

"Yes."

"How did they die?"

"I strangled them with a rope or wire."

"Why didn't you tell me that you knew who had our kids right when they were kidnapped?"

"I knew."

Looking at him directly, I was dumbfounded. "You knew what? You knew they would be murdered regardless of what we did?"

He nodded grimly. After I was able to compose myself, I regained myself and asked the rest of my questions.

"Was Franz the one who kidnapped and brainwashed you?"

"Yes."

"Why and how did I get released from prison?"

"The daroga refused to sign the release papers, so I picked him up and threw him out of the glass window. I then forged his signature on your release papers."

I could not describe the myriad of emotions that coursed through me: shock, fear, anger, and regret. I forced down the bile that rose in my throat.

"Would you hurt me if I betrayed you?"

He reached out his hand and grasped mine. I shivered. Those hands that used to set my skin on fire now numbed them. "Never."

One word. He said it with such conviction; I knew it was the truth. "Do you love me?"

"There is no way to tell you how much I do love you."

"Will you kiss me again?"

"No, I can't."

"Why not!"

"Stacy, Franz killed our children to destroy me. He is after you now."

"So, does that mean we will get a divorce?"

"Trust me, I would never divorce you."

"I don't understand!"

"I know."

Sighing with frustration, I asked him one last question, "Will you show me your face now? You swore to answer my questions. I want to see what my husband looks like."

He shifted in his seat, and I knew he was about to deny me. Surprisingly, he looked down for a second and changed his mind.

"Fine, I can deny you nothing." His hands were shaking violently as he slowly lifted the bands off that held the full-face black mask. He cautiously lifted the edges and then forcefully pulled it completely off.

A lump developed in my throat as I stifled back a gasp of disgust. His face was horrible.

The eyes were two sunken eye sockets. There was only a small resemblance of two eyebrows. A hole served as the nose that never was formed, and his yellow skin was pulled taut over his bone. His face indeed looked like a skull. Some grooves and uneven splotches of skin covered his face. Blue and red veins were visible through the transparent skin. The skull seemed to protrude even more frighteningly amidst his breathing.

His beautiful eyes immediately saw through my attempt to hide my reaction. He groaned and abruptly stood up from the table, moaning repeatedly.

"I knew this would happen! She doesn't love me!"

My limbs seemed to be immobile. I sat there just witnessing his breakdown. When he turned to me, my heart broke as I saw the trail of tears pour down his horrid face.

"I knew once you saw my face; you would be repulsed by it!"

He picked up a wine glass and hurled it at the wall, shattering it into pieces. He overturned tables and broke glasses, screaming horrendously with emotional and mental trauma after yelling profanity and curses at himself. It was my fault.

I could not do anything except stare and listen, too horrified to do anything. The restaurant staff tried to calm him down but realized it was futile, so they merely watched him, too.

My heart pounded heavily and began to ache as William shifted the violence from items to himself. He dug his fingers in his wretched face, causing blood to trickle out in streams. His nails were raw and red as blood stained his clothes.

I could stand this spectacle no longer, and I rushed out of the restaurant in terror. Colder and numb, my mind did not comprehend the danger nor did I know where I was running. All I understand was that I had to escape; escape William; escape his face; and escape this nightmare.

All of the sudden, a car pulled up behind me and stopped. Dreading that it was William, I dared not to turn around. However, it was not William's voice that I heard, "Stacy! Over here!"

I pivoted around to see Richard extending his hand out to me. I grasped his hand and quickly got into the car with ease. My heart nearly stopped when a hand touched my shoulder.

Richard got into the car and looked at me solemnly. I shuddered when I realized that, William's perfectly handsome twin brother, Nicholas had touched my shoulder.

A few years ago, Nicholas terrorized William and me. He tried to kidnap me, kill William, impersonate him, and many other things. Last, I heard he was exiled to Hawaii and then he received extensive therapy; he got married and had a child. He still terrified me.

Nicholas is tall and handsome; he was most likely a replica of what William might have looked like if he did not have the deformity.

I pushed his hand away. "Leave me alone."

Richard was driving, but regarded me a moment with his grey eyes. "Stacy, whether you like it or not, Nicholas is the only one who can protect you from him."

I fervently shook my head in disagreement, "William would never hurt me. He loves me!"

Nicholas interrupted, exclaiming, "He doesn't love you! He is only obsessed with you! If he can't have you, then no one can. He will kill you!"

"NO!" I shrieked.

Finally, I succumbed to the emotions and sobbed. Richard, in a comforting gesture, stroked my shoulder as I shoved Nicholas's hand away. After Richard made sure no one followed us, he drove to an abandoned hangar. Once we were inside, I saw other people. Standing near the private jet, there were Hugo, Jacob, and his wife, Clara. I rushed to Jacob and hugged him, crying.

"I am sorry, Jacob!"

"Think nothing of it!" I hugged Hugo and Clara after saying my good-byes.

Richard and Nicholas spoke, "It's time for you to go."

A/N: How did you all like the unmasking scene? I enjoyed writing it. I want to give you a heads up of what is to come. In the next chapter, there will be just Stacy's point of view. In chapter thirteen, there will be someone's intervention and chapter fourteen there will be MORE important characters added to the story to aid the plot of my story… I am almost done with part one. SO if you are a new reader, PLEASE review!

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