Virus's are a bitch. Flat out saying that. Murphy's Law likes to get me too, so it is literally no surprise that about a week ago when I was all ready to post this, my computer got a virus and wouldn't let me on the internet. But no worries, I got it all cleared up and now my computer is back to it's slow, dial up lagging self. Poor baby needs more memory, and a faster internet connection, and a stronger fire wall, and a bunch of other little things, but I'll eventually get it worked out. Sorry for the LONG wait, it was kind of out of my hands.

A Few Thanks:

TheAngel'sMaggie: In the words of Sumner Bain (our dear Vitusia) "Well Effing GOOD!" Ha. Unbelievably glad that you like our story...we hope to keep it as exciting as possible. And glad you like Raylan and can relate to her. She is mostly based off of Olivia... which is scary... but it is awesome that others can relate. Stubborn people rule all! We'll try to update faster next time!

Juilette Delphe: Stop pissing the Phantom off? SUMNER! How could you say such a thing? If Ethan stopped pissing the Phantom off... well then where would we find the comic relief... or driving annoyance, either way you like to look at it.

solitarebbw218: We can't hardly wait either for the interaction between them to increase. It'll happen, although I can't really say when. The characters more lead me than I leading them. Thanks for the compliment so very much!

surf with music: Band is... is... is... OVER! --falls into an abnormal amount of tears and sobs uncontrollably-- Oh God I miss band so incredibly much, and this was my LAST year, and I'll never be in Marching Band again... NEVER! --begins crying uncontrollably again and then very rapidly pulls herself together and chokes back tears-- Ok, I'm good now. Glad you liked the chapter a whole bunches. Yea, and you and I both can't wait till the time he realizes, but the trick is getting both of them to realize, cause both are stubborn and unbelievably guarded. What a pair huh?

Alright, well here is the long awaited update, and I am sorry it took so long. Virus's suck, but they can be beat into submission. Hoping to be back with an update soon. Later and hugs,

-Olivia N.

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"Gentlemen, my ass," Ethan muttered as he shuffled blindly through the black hall, his hands shoved deep within his pockets, restraining him from ripping anything he could find apart. The nerve, the audacity, the scum. That arrogant, lowly bastard, he didn't even deserve a quarter of her affections. And poor Raylan, she didn't even realize that her friendship was being wasted on this monster, this loathsome ghost.

Ethan cursed into the dark, his voice a low, venomous hiss of uncultured words. How could any man think of such a generous girl to be practically meaningless? Raylan was kind to him, offering companionship to the most despicable man on earth, and still throughout this ghosts need he found her to be mere entertainment. What nerve! How could she even begin to trust such a man? How could she even think such a creature was capable of human compassion?

Somehow in his rage Ethan's hands had escaped his pockets and began their rampage. They struck out in fury against the black walls, acting with a mind of their own as the rage blinded all thought. They drove into the dark, pounding against the black stone, against the enemies he could not see. With each strike came a flat, sharp pound, the sound of tender flesh riding against solid material. This sound somehow made the moment even more unpleasing for Ethan.

In a moment of such mounting anger, there is a certain amount of relief that comes over a person if they get the chance to break something. The view of something shattering into pieces, the sound of that object being torn apart by cheer force, it causes an unusual release in a person, and any other thing seems to take the opposite effect. As anyone could imagine, with every smack Ethan became more enraged and unsatisfied. So he continued his attacks, shuffling further through the tunnel as he pounded, blindly searching for something to take his anger out on.

His search finally came to a screeching halt when his ears caught a rather unusual sound. Throughout his search the thudding of his fists had been firm and short, but suddenly in the mist of that dark he came upon a portion of the cave wall that when smacked rang with the echo of something hollow. It was almost odd how quickly his curiosity overcame his fury, but the noise had drawn his attention like a moth to a flame. His fist froze against the wall, holding there for as long as the echo sounded before diminishing into nothing but silence.

Hollow? Ethan's mind cleared, his senses returning with an intense curiosity. His fist gave a slight tap against the wall to be sure, and as expected a small echo rang once more before falling into nothing. It was a certainty now, this portion of the cave was not as ordinary as expected. Something lie on the other side, and this wall, this darkness was merely a disguise.

With a new found interest, Ethan's hands began to grope the cave about him, searching eagerly for some kind of handle, or lever, or something to allow access to the other side. Feverishly he searched, and yet seemed to come upon nothing but solid, freezing wall. A frustrated growl escaped Ethan's clenched lips as his hands ran from the bottom of the floor to the ceiling and seemed to find nothing. Again anger began to build and with a new mounting rage, Ethan's fist came down hard upon an upper portion of the wall... only when his fists collided, he felt a small difference. A tiny portion of that wall, no bigger than the tip of a pinky finger, pressed down like a button into the solid rock and with it the hollow wall swung rapidly open to display another dark corridor.

Ethan wasted no time. He put his hands out in front of him and entered the separate hall, using the mere sense of touch to navigate through the black world. It was warmer in this darkness, hotter than the icy world of the Phantom, and it increased the further he went. Ethan didn't put much thought on this though for his mind was distracted by something far more interesting. The tunnel was long and winding, gradually drifting up towards the surface of this night realm, but oddly he soon came upon a flat road, and down this way his eyes caught the faint glimmer of light passing through what seemed to resemble doorways.

"Where am I?" He asked to the dark, cautiously edging towards the lit doorways.

Closer he drew, until the hall itself was almost entirely free of the dark, the light gleaming from the other side of those doorways chasing away the shadows. Oh light, lord it seemed so long since he had seen so much light. For the first time in his life he had to squint to keep his night adjusting eyes from hurting, but it felt glorious seeing light again- light of any kind.

Ethan reached for it, his hands needing to feel the warmth of day, his cold skin yearning for the comfort of the sun... but his hands... they grasped no warmth in this light. He pulled his hands back to him in surprise, taking a step closer to further examine this light. Light indeed it was, but it was not coming from a doorway of any kind... and it was not the sun light he had been hoping for. This light was candle light, the yellow glow from tiny fires in opposite rooms, quarters to be exact, located on the other side of this...

One hand reached out to feel whatever barrier stood in his way, and immediately felt the chill of something solid, something like...

"Glass?" He heard his voice shudder in surprise. What was this? A glass wall? What tricks were these? If it was just glass, then why had no one ever seen these passages, or found their way to this ghost? They couldn't all be complete imbeciles. Well, maybe...

On the other side of the mirror something stirred, and Ethan instantly froze, every muscle tensing up. Oh God, he would be seen! Across the room, a person rose from a rather large, lounging chair, a woman he did not recognize. She was flamboyantly clad, in a night gown of the finest fabrics, and her hair a disgustingly flashy red done in a tight braid on one side of her head. Her face was overly done up, and in her arms she held two scrawny, horrid poodles.

She yawned dramatically, and after glancing about her room with boredom, her eyes came to settle on him. A lump of dread formed in Ethan's throat as she approached the glass, his mind screaming with terror. Oh God! Oh God! She can see me! She knows I'm here! Oh God! Oh God! She'll know now! She'll know that we are still here! Oh God! She'll tell! They'll find us now! Oh God! Raylan I'm sorry! God, Raylan, I'm so sorry!

The woman stood right before him now, staring straight through the glass at him. The most smug grin crossed her face, leaving Ethan with no doubt. He had been caught. She would tell, and the police would find them, and then... Oh Raylan... may God have mercy on your soul. The woman's lips parted, and Ethan flinched, waiting for those dooming words that signaled their end... and then... out from the gap in her head came the most obnoxious form of singing he had ever heard, a combination of a lost talent and a duck like squawking.

"What the hell!" Ethan shouted, his hands rushing to cover his ears and his teeth gritting in pain. What cruel and unusual punishment was this?

The most gruesome look of disgust crossed Ethan's face, and even then the woman's screech continued. Dear God, she sounded like a parrot! Ethan shouted through her squeal, "Madame! Madame please! This is not necessary! I'll come quietly! I'll give myself in! But my accomplice I can not give you. She is gone, fled the country a week ago, so for the love of God, quit your squawking!"

Still the woman continued, and Ethan flinched as she attempted to take it up an octave. Thankfully, her voice could not control the note and her song died off in a horrible cough. The beast cleared her throat and began to curse in some terribly ugly Spanish that she squeaked nearly as terribly as her singing. She turned away from him then, facing a side table and picking up a rather large bottle of something of which she sprayed into her throat. Again she cleared her throat, following it with a few short notes before returning to her image.

Strangely, the woman still did not acknowledge his presence, leaning in towards the glass and using her fingers to pull at the bags that were beginning to form beneath her eyes. Again she muttered something in squeaking Spanish, and with a huff of frustration spun away from the glass and disappeared into an opposite room.

Ethan stared perplexed at the woman's fleeting image. Oddly, he waited for her to return, waiting for her to enter with the police trailing at her heels. To his surprise, the woman did not return, and again Ethan cautiously approached the glass. Why had she acted like that? So strangely, going on with some normal routine even while knowing he was watching. She had known, right? And why had she pulled at her skin that way? Had she expected him to comment on her forming wrinkles? Or maybe... she had been examining... herself.

Of course! Why didn't he see it before? The Phantom had access to these corridors, he wouldn't want anyone to see him, and yet his prying nature would want to know everything. Ethan had heard something of one way mirrors in his travels, from an old Englishmenwhen he and Raylan had retreated to Britain a year ago. An ingenious creation really, and a perfect trick for the Opera Ghost.

Finally after convincing himself that he was safe, Ethan moved on down this hidden corridor, mildly glancing through the several mirrors into other rooms as he passed. For some time he passed only rooms of extravagant color and expensive adorn, bright and flaunting their wealth. These were the upper class performers quarters, her came to conclude, the prima donna's and the fame seekers, the very essence of high class snobbery.

Past that he came upon lesser expense, dancers dormitories and chorus dressing rooms, a sure example of lesser wealth but a more natural life style that Ethan preferred. Beyond that came the seamstresses rooms, the musicians quarters and writers offices. Ethan skipped on past these with little interest in their life style, not caring for the lessers who tried to raise their miserable self-esteem by pretending to be of greater importance.

Besides, he had no time to dally on them. Lord knows how long he would have before their dear Ghost realized he was gone, and if Ethan's assumptions were right, he had something terribly important to do before then.

So Ethan continued down the corridor, his steps as silent as his feet could carry him, although he was fully aware that no one but the dark could hear him pass. He traveled through this snaking web of mirrors, searching for the right one while marveling at the genius of such a trick. These corridors could break all the barriers of secrecy, allowing the user access into everyone's lives that they assumed to be so safe within their own privacy. The Phantom was a clever little spy, Ethan would give him that much, a clever man indeed. No wonder really... Raylan only fancied clever men.

"Raylan," He sighed as his mind drifted back to the prior nights, "I'm losing you to a master of tricks. A man of lies and many secrets... which can never end well."

In his thought Ethan nearly missed his goal, but thankfully he caught a fleeting glimpse of the one he had been looking for and came to a screeching halt. He backed up a few steps and came to rest before one mirror, a single candle light barely shimmering in the tiny room on the other side. It was enough light though, just enough for him to see those vibrant eyes that made him go weak in the knees. His dear Vitusia's eyes...

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Vits sat in her hammock, in her room, behind the sail curtain. One foot steadied her, while the other injured leg was out straight. She was rewrapping it before she went to sleep, but she had only lit a single candle so seeing was difficult. Bags of ice from the kitchen lay on the floor, melting slowly and forming an icy puddle on the floor.

Vits growled in frustration as she tried to wrap her leg. It was still the size of a grapefruit, and it hurt even when she kept it utterly still. She had been using it more than she should though. But she couldn't keep still... and manage to hide everything at the same time. Now, the wrap wouldn't sit right, and it was irritating her. Irritating her more than such a simple thing should... and she knew exactly why.

Part of her greatly missed Raylan, someone to help her, some one who was there. An even grater part of her missed Ethan... that ridiculous country boy. Vits shook her head, no, now it wasn't the time to get sentimental. She couldn't, not after he lied to her. Not after she told him everything, things she hadn't told another soul.

Vits sighed, pausing. No, it wasn't fair for her to be mad at him. He had no choice. It wasn't him. The Patron had been abusing his new power over her. After closing night of Midsummer Night Dream, she was to attend rehearsals in the day and do the set at night. She didn't know if she could handle that, but she couldn't say no. She had made her promise. It wasn't right for her to take her anger against the Patron out on Ethan. It wasn't fair for her to take her anger out on either of them... fate had been more unkind to them than anyone she knew, and now... now they were trapped in a never ending darkness. A place where night was God.

Vits stared off into space, gulping her tears down into the pit of her throat, and whispering with a barely steady voice, "I'm sorry... so sorry... for everything."

Suddenly from the shadows a voice came softly, a comfortingly curious tone saying clearly, "Sorry for what?"

Vits shook her head, swearing that she thought she heard his voice. "Impossible," She muttered to herself, "I must be going crazy."

"Well we already knew this," The voice whispered again, sounding closer this time, "Although, I'm rather certain that you aren't plummeting any deeper into the pit of insanity at the time being."

This was too much for Vits. She spun to face the voice, except, her leg got caught on the hammock, and wrenched her injured leg. "Ahh!" She cried out, and then forced herself to catch her balance. She stood, slowly, not resting weight on her injured leg. Her eyes shot viciously towards the voice, and then froze. She wasn't sure she believed what was in front of her. Her voice shook in disbelief, "What? How are you here?"

Ethan offered a hand to her to help her with her balance, a broad grin on his face. He first replied sarcastically with, "I'm an aspiration, can't you tell?" Again that sultry smile, and then he continued seriously with, "I discovered a passageway in our dear Phantom's prison. It lead me to you... God must finally like me."

Vits chuckled. It was him! Thank you God, she wasn't dreaming. He was here, with her, finally! A smile spread wide across her face and she replied with a laugh, "I always wondered what was behind that mirror."

He smiled, "It's a rather ingenious system really, took me the longest time to figure it out. See, there's a small, almost entirely camouflaged spring placed close to the wall. It's at his height, which is probably why you never found it, but when you press it, it activates the mirror to sweep open." He gestured towards the corner closest to the ceiling, quite a stretch for even an average sized man.

Vits followed his hand, "Makes sense. That is ingenious."

Ethan gave a soft meaningful groan, "Yes... I'll at least admit that he is a smart man... but that is the only good quality I have come to see."

Vits shrugged, "I just work for him."

Ethan nodded and muttered softly, "Lucky."

Vits brows narrowed with concern, and her eyes searched his face as she asked seriously, "Ethan... how are things down there? Are you doing alright? Is Raylan well? Is she still alive? He isn't hurting either of you, is he? I can't bare the thought of you two being in pain, and I don't know how good a ghosts hospitality can be."

Ethan gave a small smile and placed a comforting hand against her warm, soft cheek. "We are both fine," He assured her with a gentle, truthful tone, "Although it is far too obvious that this Phantom greatly dislikes me. Raylan is safe, and in the favor of our host, but whether this will all end up good or bad for Raylan's mental state is yet to be seen. She's trying to get him to trust her, trying to protect me as she always does. I fear that she is growing fond of him."

Vits nodded, her mind thinking grimly back on the years of Christine Daae and that disaster, "It's not healthy to grow attached to someone as broken as the Phantom, it's not healthy for either of them."

Ethan nodded in agreement, "Both of them are broken, vulnerable in some ways... and trust is too easily shattered. I'm afraid he will trust her Vits, and come to discover something about her that he doesn't like, and feel betrayed. Lord knows what would happen then..."

"Something terrible," Vits answered for him, thinking back on that night not to long ago... that night she almost lost Raylan because of his childish rage, "You should warn Raylan to be careful."

"I have," He groaned, "But she's defiant, probably thinking she can change him or something. I've warned him as well, and all he's done in response is threaten my life."

"He rules this Opera, Ethan. The Phantom doesn't take kindly to someone telling him what to do, especially in his own lair," Her eyes connected instantly with his, trying to get across the full intention of her words, "You should also be careful around him... he's capable of far too much for you to play body guard." Ethan frowned, a clear sign that he did not agree, but Vits quickly changed the subject. Lord knew how long she would have with him before it became dangerous, and she was not going to waist that time on concerns about the Phantom, and things they couldn't change. "Come," She said, taking his hands in her own, "Let's speak of something else. Raylan is a stubborn girl, she can take care of herself."

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Ohhhhhh, secret passageways- this could get interesting- in both good and bad ways. Stay tuned to find out what happens next- hehe we are about to kick it up a notch. Hope you enjoyed. Big hugs for all.

-Olivia N.