Twinkle22: Misunderstood is right! But he'll have his revenge…muahahahaha! At the moment, haha, I'm not sure if this is an E/C fic or a C/R fic, But I'll get back to ya on that!

Novembermorn: Thanks for reading, I'm glad you liked!

Little.prying.Pandora: So I'm assuming then that you just clicked on the link in my diary? Cool, I'll have to find your diary and note you there. Thanks for reading and I hope it is somewhat surprising!

To everyone, long detailed reviews are the funnest so you should leave lots of those!

Chapter three:

Christine shot a worried glance at Raoul, who was sitting in box five. His brother Philippe, the Comte de Chagny, accompanied him and both had fervent expressions of tension pasted across their faces. Raoul had told his brother of his plan to run away with Christine and Philippe had spent the entire day, and now the remainder of the evening, trying to convince him not to go through with it.

"Petit frere," he protested, "From what I have heard, and what you have told me, of this Opera Ghost it is not wise. Do not take from him what he loves most. Brother only tragedy shall be the outcome of your plan."

But all of his efforts were futile for Raoul was young, determined and above all else he was in love. He watched anxiously as Christine sang, the corps de ballet did high kicks that would put any dancer to shame, and as the clock ticked Raoul become more and more nervous that perhaps Erik knew of their plan. Maybe he had a plan of his own, so many thoughts ran through his head and he feared the worst. Many times he found himself wringing his hands so tight that he cut off all circulation through them. 'There is nothing that he can do now' he kept trying to reassure himself but the entire idea was completely nerve-wracking. Finally Christine came on stage for her final aria and Raoul stood intending to go check that everything was in order. As soon as his hand touched the doorknob of box five every light in the opera house went out. He turned towards the stage and cried out in desperation,

"Christine!"

Mere seconds later the lights were back on and everything was as it had been, except for Christine. She was gone, vanished and the entire auditorium went into a frenzy.

"Le Fantome!"

Raoul heard Philippe's voice, and he cursed Erik under his breath. He swung open the door and ran only feet before someone grabbed his arm. He turned around to see someone he'd never met before pointing in the opposite direction.

"No monsieur, we must head this way for it is the only entrance to his lair."

Raoul, without question, knew of whom this stranger spoke and he followed him down the grand stairway in the main lobby, up into the ballet dormitory and then he brought Raoul into a dark closet. Within seconds the stranger began knocking all over the wall.

"Monsieur I must ask for your help, for without your cooperation we will never get to your betrothed in time."

Raoul was confused, "How do you…"

"Do not ask, for I know many things. I am the Persian and you may call me Daroga but please help me."

Instinctively Raoul began to mimic the Persian, knocking on the walls, and for what reason he did not know.

"Daroga, what am I looking for?"

"You are listening to hear the sound of hollow wood. Through one of these walls is a secret…"

"I found it!"

Raoul eagerly pushed on the wall and it slid away before his eyes. Wasting no time the Persian stepped in, pulling Raoul behind him. Though he could not see Raoul felt that they were walking ever downwards and he could feel water beneath his feet. Gradually the walls felt as if they were slanting inwards and the passage became small enough that both men, skinny as they were, had to turn sideways to fit. When finally the passage opened up again Daroga stopped, without warning, and pulled something off the wall. Before Raoul knew what was happening light flooded the tunnel and he could see all around him.

"Daroga, where are you taking me?"

"Hush, we must make as little noise as possible, for although he is detained otherwise Erik could be watching us this very moment."

He spoke in a hushed tone and his words were barely audible. Raoul had to strain his ears to hear anything.

"I have found an entrance into Erik's home, I think, and I believe we can get in undetected."

Raoul suddenly felt a wave of heat overtake him and he looked up to see furnaces all around.

"We are going to get into his house through the furnace room?"

The Persian turned around, a look of frustration pasted all across his face, and hissed at Raoul.

"Monsieur, if you wish for me to bring you any further you will be silent."

After that Raoul did not speak. From the furnace room Daroga brought him into what appeared to be some sort of storage room. The ceiling was very high, nearly eighty feet above their heads, and for good reason. There were old backdrops from Opera's past stored in the east side of this room. Between the backdrop from a performance of Hannibal and one from the early acts of Faust there was a door on the wall. Most people would have looked at it and seen nothing but The Persian had followed Erik in his paths many times and he knew that there was a trap door on the wall. Finding the latch he swung it open and climbed in, motioning for Raoul to follow.

They crawled down a long tunnel, only two feet wide and three high, for what seemed like ages. Abruptly Daroga stopped and Raoul's face slammed into the soles of his boots.

He cried out and Daroga turned, as best he could, to once more reprimand him.

"Monsieur le Vicomte, now it is of the utmost importance that you do not utter a sound. Beneath me is a drop off and I believe that when we jump down we will be in one of the back rooms of Erik's house. If he hears us now it will all be over for you and I along with your precious Christine. Monsieur I beg of you, if you wish to see the sun ever again do not make any more sounds!"

A/N This was somewhat short and I think that I went a little bit fast with my descriptions but I'm being rushed and I can't write well when I'm rushed. Anyways I hope you enjoy. If you read my story, even just this once, please have the courtesy of reviewing, whether you liked it or not. Constructive criticism is always encouraged, however do NOT leave a review telling me all how much you hate my story and what an awful author I am. If you don't like it that's fine you are entitled to your opinion. Just tell me what I can to do make it better. Thanks for reading!

Caitlyn