The Fox Phantom of the Opera

by ZooCross0vers

At L'Opéra Populaire, down deep within its old torture chambers lies a secret long since buried and believed to be dead. Judith Hopps, an aspiring singer, becomes the object of affection of an unseen mysterious voice. The ghost - the Phantom of the Opera - her Angel of Music and the holder of a secret conspiracy that once brought death to the vengeful phantom himself.

2. Chapter 1: L'Opéra Populaire

A/N: A new chapter! Hurray! Now we will finally be able to find out what happened to Nick! Is he alive or will he be a literal phantom (ie ghost)?

Just a couple heads up:

1) There is one song in the chapter and it's "Angel of Music" and it has different lyrics (the original song will appear at some point though, no worries)

2) If you want to follow its rhythm appropriately I will have a couple of links on my Tumblr that dictate which videos and which parts of those videos you should listen to, to follow it. I'd post the links here, but this site doesn't allow link sharing.

3) This is a really long chapter (it's about 45 pages long on docs), so hope you enjoy! :D

...

Chapter 1: L'Opéra Populaire

Zootopia, 1881 (22 Years Later)...

A hoof lifted a quill pen and dipped the feathered item into a vial of black ink to sign a document labeled, 'Deed'.

"There we are," said a male roe deer as he signed all management rights and full ownership of the illustrious opera house, L'Opéra Populaire, over to its new owners.

The composed yet secretly nervous wreck of a buck named, Monsieur LeRoe turned the document - as well as two copies of the same document - over to the new buyers. One of the new buyers was a middle aged, striped, light gray hare with hazel colored eyes named Norman Savage - Comte Norman Savage to be exact. The hare was accompanied by his two notaries, a large hulking cape buffalo named Bogo and his assistant, a chubby cheetah named Benjamin Clawhauser.

As for the second buyer, they were not present but their notary came in their place. The anonymous buyer's notary was a ram named Doug Ramses.

The four mammals signed the three documents. Once they were signed, they turned them back over to Monsieur LeRoe, who eagerly stamped them - finalizing the sale. He handed both parties a document each. "Here are your copies." The deer stood to shake their paws/hooves, "Gentlemammals, congratulations you are now the proud owners of the illustrious opera house, L'Opera Populaire."

"Thank you Monsieur LeRoe," said the hare, "We Savages have always been generous patrons of opera and theatre. So believe me when I say this is quite an honor."

"I can imagine," replied the buck deer, "I remember well that you were a regular here in our opera house during its first year."

"Indeed. I loved it so much. Truly one of my favorite opera houses and such a classic design, wouldn't you gentlemmammals agree?" Comte Savage asked the accompanying notaries.

"Yes, very gorgeous. Though I must admit I've never been inside it," said Doug.

"I'm afraid I wouldn't know, I haven't had the pleasure of seeing it myself either," answered the cape buffalo.

"Neither have I," the cheetah answered. "But I'll bet it's really pretty since it's considered one of the best Opera houses in all Zootopia."

"Quite," replied Bogo, "Though that does beg the question, why would anyone wish to sell such a prosperous Opera house. And at such a low cost I might add."

"If you'd like the short answer, my health," replied the roe deer. "I'm afraid I can't handle the stress of running a prestigious Opera house anymore. I often times can't even stand stepping inside it. That's how stressed it has me."

"Is that why we're meeting you here in your house's study instead of your office?" Clawhauser asked curiously.

"Yes," answered the buck deer, "I feel I have a greater sense of privacy...and peace here."

"Really?" questioned the hare, "I would believe working in an Opera house with beautiful music seeping through the walls would be quite relaxing to the soul."

"You wouldn't find it to be the case here," muttered the buck beneath his breath.

"What was that?" Comte Savage asked.

"Nothing," he quickly replied.

Suspicious, the four mammals glanced at one another. "Monsieur LeRoe, is there something you'd like to tell us about this Opera House that we don't know?" asked Doug on their behalf.

Monsieur LeRoe tapped his hooves on his desk, as if hiding something from them. "Perhaps you'd like to see the Opera house for yourselves? Come." The buck deer smiled politely and stood, leading the way.

.

The five mammals made their way across town toward L'Opéra Populaire inside of Monsieur LeRoe's carriage.

"Comte Savage, Monsieur Ramses," spoke LeRoe, "What do either of you or your client, Monsieur Ramses, know about L'Opéra Populaire?"

"Well, I know that it was constructed ten years ago," answered the Comte Savage.

"Actually construction began twelve years ago and it officially opened eleven years ago," corrected the roe deer.

"Ah yes, I was thinking back to the last time I visited the Opera house," the hare chuckled. "If I'm not wrong, I believe it was built where another Opera house once stood, was it not? What was its name again?" the middle aged hare snapped his fingers trying to remember the name. "Le-Le...oh! Le Palais du Renard! That was it wasn't it? The one that was destroyed during a fire a little over twenty years ago?"

"Yes, that's correct," nodded the buck deer.

"The owners died in the fire too, didn't they?" asked Doug, "I believe it was in all the papers."

Monsieur LeRoe nodded, "Yes, the Wilde family. Jonathan Wilde, his wife Amelia Wilde. Even their young six year old son, Nick Wilde. All three of them were caught in the fire and died that night."

Clawhauser gasped, covering his mouth with his paws, "That's terrible. Poor things."

"Yes, it was truly a tragedy," said Monsieur LeRoe, "I was a big fan of Monsieur Wilde's work. I even attended that final performance when the Opera house burned to the ground. It was without a doubt one of the most beautiful performances and opera pieces I have ever seen or heard! And his wife's voice, ah! It was as if an angel were singing on stage, it was so beautiful."

"Quite," agreed the hare, "I believe I may have attended a couple of performances at Le Palais du Renard. That vixen was quite gifted."

"Without question," said the buck deer with a nod. "I loved that Opera house so much that I designed a good portion of both its internal and external design after Le Palais du Renard's."

"Interesting," said the striped hare, "I thought its architectural design looked familiar. I know my late friend Stuart Hopps once told me that it was at one of Le Palais du Renard's performances that inspired him to follow his dream of becoming a musician. God rest his soul."

"Stuart Hopps?" asked Monsieur LeRoe, "You mean the world famous violinist, Stuart Hopps?"

"The very same," Comte Savage nods.

"Ah yes," replied the buck deer, "I do seem to remember him briefly being a part of our orchestra about eleven years ago. I'm happy he made a name for himself, but I am saddened to hear that he's passed on. When did he die?"

"Last month I believe."

"I'm so sorry to hear that," said LeRoe with sympathy. "He was a good mammal. And talented with the violin."

Comte Savage nodded, "I don't know if you know this yet, but he has a daughter. Judith Hopps? I heard she is to become a ballerina at your Opera house."

"Perhaps," replied LeRoe, "I don't know the specifics of my incoming dancers. That's Madame Winter's department. I was traditionally in charge of all other performers. Namely my star leads, but not so much these days."

"Why is that?" Doug asked.

"Well…" began the buck deer, "...there is a certain rumor circling around the Opera house, though I take it from your knowledge and facial expressions that none of you here have heard of it yet. Have you?"

The four mammals accompanying Monsieur LeRoe, glanced at one another, curious to see if perhaps one of them knew what it was the roe deer was talking about. None of them did. They merely shrugged at one another, completely clueless.

"Rumor?" spoke Comte Savage on their behalf.

LeRoe watched them all then exhaled a heavy, hesitant sigh. He wished he could avoid telling them the truth about why he had decided to sell the Opera house, but he knew all too well that they would eventually learn its dark secret - sooner or later.

.

At L'Opera Populaire…

A black sheep in a ballerina outfit lit a matchstick on fire. She smiled eagerly to her friends gathered around her - a female pig and a golden furred female rabbit. The black sheep, named Sharla, lit up one of many candles with the match. Around the three mammals were the other members of their ballerina troupe. The girls consisted of pigs, sheep, rabbits, vixens, skunks, and raccoons.

All the girls gathered round a circle of candles which they all lit together. The ballerina dancers held paws/hooves and looked at one another, eager, scared, and curious. "Do you think he'll show up?" Sharla asked eagerly.

"I-I hope not," responded a white, cowardly rabbit named Jamie.

As the girls talked amongst themselves, another fellow ballerina by the name of Skye Winter, a pale yellow furred vixen with sapphire colored eyes, walked alongside the Opera house's current prima donna, a tall gazelle appropriately named Gazelle. The two girls talked and walked just as they came across the other girls.

"Yeah, right?" Skye giggled with the gazelle until she turned her attention to her fellow ballerinas. "What the? What are you girls doing gathered in a circle like that? Rehearsal is in five minutes. Come on! Chop! Chop! Before my mother has a fit."

"We'll be there in a minute Skye," responded Sharla on their behalf. "We just want to see if we can summon…you know..." Sharla looked around as if making sure no one except those around her were listening. "The Phantom!"

"The Phantom?" asked Gazelle. "Why would you want to summon him?"

Skye placed a paw at her snout, "Ugh...not this again. When are you girls going to get it through your heads? There is no Phantom!"

"Yeah, there is," argued Sharla, "Jamie says she saw him the other day. Tell her Jamie."

Jamie, trembled and fiddled with her fingers. "W-Well... I-I didn't actually see him I-"

"See?" Skye cut in, "Now come on, my mother's waiting for us."

"W-What I meant was...um…" the shy white rabbit continued, "I didn't see the ghost himself, b-but I s-saw his shadow."

"His shadow?" Gazelle asked curiously, "Really? What did he look like?"

"Gazelle?!" Skye retorted, unable to believe her friend was playing along with their ridiculous game.

"What? You must admit Skye, this is kind of interesting," replied the gazelle. Skye shook her head in annoyance. "What did he look like?" Gazelle asked again.

"H-He looked like he might have been wearing a tuxedo o-or a frac a-and he wore a hat and he k-kind of looked like a fox. O-Or at least his tail looked like a fox's."

"A fox?" Gazelle asked, "So the rumors that it's a fox are true then?"

"We don't know for sure yet. That's what we want to find out!" said Sharla eagerly.

"When did you see him?" Gazelle asked the rabbit.

"Last week," answered Sharla on the rabbit's behalf. "That's why we want to hold a séance for him. See if we can make contact with the spirit."

"Do you really think he'll show up?" asked another girl.

Skye shook her head, growing impatient with her fellow ballet dancers. "Yeah well this has all been exciting and all, but we really should be heading to rehearsal. An old friend of mine is coming later today and we may also have to impress our potential buyers in case Monsieur LeRoe actually does bring them by."

One of the girls, a pig named May Swinton, scoffed at Skye's order. "Please Skye, we all know that this isn't about impressing any potential buyers. This is about you hoping to impress Vicomte Jack Savage, isn't it?" The pig asked with a teasing sway of her shoulders.

The vixen blushed at her words.

One of the other girls noticed, "Ooh! Is that the old friend you're waiting for?" she asked with a teasing giggle. Soon enough all the girls were giggling at the vixen.

"N-No!" Skye spat with an all too evident blush still plastered on her face. "H-He's not coming...at least I don't think he is..." The girls kept staring at her with knowing smirks. "Look, he may have been my childhood crush but I don't like him that way anymore. The old friend I'm talking about is Judy Hopps. You know, the bunny I told you all would be joining our ballet troupe?"

"Yeah, sure," said May with a roll of her eyes.

"Ugh, fine! If I let you girls waste your time with this stupid séance, will you please stop teasing me about my personal life?" Skye bargained with them, hoping they would let her be.

"Sure," May agreed.

"Come join us in the circle then," Sharla said invitingly. "You too Gazelle!"

"Okay!" Gazelle joined in eagerly, taking Sharla's hoof. The gazelle then waved at Skye to join them.

The vixen just rolled her eyes and joined them. "This is so stupid. We really should be rehearsing. I mean, it's not like we're going to see anything. And even if we could see something, Mother always told me that if restless spirits truly were an existing thing, then they should be left alone lest you face their wrath. And I'm sure this Phantom is no exception given his so called history with...incidents."

Jamie suddenly began trembling as she thought back on all the incidents that have occurred at L'Opéra Populaire - both the small meaningless ones and the more...violent ones. "Y-You know, m-maybe Skye's right. Maybe we should go rehearse now. Madame Winter will surely be very angry with us if-" Jamie tried to leave, but the other girls pulled her back down.

"Relax," said Sharla. "We're just testing out to see if we see or hear anything. Maybe Skye is right and we won't see anyone."

"Yeah," agreed Gazelle, "This is all in good fun. Besides, we haven't had much activity going on lately. Maybe he went away already."

"How could he? He was just here last week," said May.

"Not helping, May," said Gazelle, annoyed at the pig for not playing along.

"Mmm, I personally just want to know if he was good looking or not," said a flirty, boy crazy red vixen named Scarlett, "I heard rumors from some of the set crew that they think it's Jonathan Wilde's ghost. And I heard he was a real looker."

"You think?" asked another girl.

"Alright, alright!" interrupted Sharla, growing restless with all the interruptions. "Will everyone just focus so we can get this over with? The candles are starting to melt and I don't want us to accidentally burn down another Opera house on this same location."

"Okay. Fine," the collective of girls agreed.

Sharla and the others closed their eyes as she led them in the séance, "Oh spirit of the Opera, we humbly ask you to make yourself present to us. Tell us who you are and why you haunt our Opera house. Please oh spirit, give us a sign of your presence. Let us know you are here."

There was a long silent pause. Nothing. Not a sign was given to them.

Curious, all the girls opened their eyes and saw and heard nothing. Some of them groaned in disappointment, while most of them sighed in relief. Though a skeptic, Skye also sighed in relief. "See? I told you girls this was all just a bunch of nonse-"

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

A haunting and unseen echoing male voice suddenly laughed in a very maniacal way - frightening the girls beyond belief!

"AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!"

They all screamed in unison and ran off toward the stage.

.

Just as the girls screamed and ran away, Monsieur LeRoe and his new buyers entered the opera house's back entrance.

"A Phantom?" asked Comte Savage in disbelief. "Forgive me Monsieur LeRoe, but I still can't believe it. You must surely be joking?"

"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!" the girls screamed in the distance.

The five mammals turned to the frightened wails. "I'd say I'm not given that," said Monsieur LeRoe as he and the others ran toward the source of the screams.

At the stage, a short statured fennec fox by the name of Finnick called up to some stage hands, "Alright guys, bring down that set real slow like. Gentle...gentle...gen-"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!" The group of girls swarmed the small fennec fox for protection. Gazelle in particular, fell to her knees and clinged to his neck.

"Agh!" the little fox gagged as the other frightened girls joined the tall Gazelle in seeking comfort from him. "Gazelle? Ladies? What the hell's goin' on?" he strained between all their smothering.

"We saw him!"

"We heard him!"

"It was so scary!"

"He was so scary!"

"It was like a witch's cackle!"

"It was horrible! Horrible!" They all called out simultaneously.

The huffy little fox wiggled free from their grasp and extended his paws out so they would give him some space. "Ladies! Ladies! One at a time! One at a time!"

Monsieur LeRoe and the others arrived just as Finnick managed to get the girls off him. "We heard screaming. What happened?" Monsieur LeRoe asked them.

"It was him!" Jamie spoke. "The Phantom of the Opera!"

"Come again?" asked Comte Savage.

"The Phantom, Monsieur!" repeated the frightened rabbit on the verge of tears.

Monsieur LoRoe rubbed at his temples in frustration. "Ugh, of course it's him. Why do I even bother asking at this point?"

"Monsieur LeRoe!" called the voice of a stern female. It was the voice of Madame Ciel Winter, Skye's mother and the Ballet Director of L'Opéra Populaire. "May I ask what is going on and why my entire ballerina troupe is screaming their heads off?"

"Oh Madame Winter, is it really any surprise anymore? It's just him again," replied Monsieur LeRoe, practically groaning in frustration.

"Of course it was. I suppose it is a stupid question to have asked," the middle aged vixen agreed. "Though, I'm certain that it was equally stupid for both my daughter and my ballet troupe to have tempted this so called spectre if it had anything to do with those candles I encountered backstage."

The collective of ballerinas all lowered their heads in shame.

"Quite," agreed Monsieur LeRoe, "Oh! Gentlemammals, allow me to introduce you to our Ballet Director, Madame Ciel Winter. Madame Winter, allow me to introduce to you L'Opéra Populaire's new owners, Comte Norman Savage and-"

"I am quite familiar with Comte Norman Savage," interrupted the elder vixen.

"Madame Ciel Winter? Is that really you?" asked the hare, once he took a good look at the vixen. He smiled, "Wonderful to see you've moved up in the world after having worked at that dreadful circus."

"Indeed. Comte Savage, I do believe you remember my daughter, Skye?"

Skye curtsied to the hare, somewhat shyly.

"Ah yes, I remember you. You were my son Jack's old playmate, weren't you?"

Though she tried desperately to hide it, Skye blushed as she nodded - memories of her dear old friend and crush running through her head. "Yes. Yes that's right Monsieur."

"Wonderful to see that you are part of our illustrious ballet troupe here at L'Opéra Populaire."

"Would you gentlemammals care for a demonstration of our ballet troupe's dancing abilities?" asked Madame Winter.

"Ooh! That would be so much fun!" Clawhauser chirped with enthusiasm.

"As wonderful as that would be, I'm afraid we have a few little details we must go over once more with Monsieur LeRoe before we can enjoy the beautiful spectacle that is our ballet troupe," Comte Savage answered on behalf of the other mammals.

"Yes," Doug nodded, agreeing with the hare. "Namely a particular entity we were not aware of when this purchase was made," he added with a glare to Monsieur LeRoe, who awkwardly cleared his throat.

Monsieur Bogo nodded in agreement with Doug's statement.

"Aw," Clawhauser uttered in disappointment.

"If you would please excuse us ladies," Comte Savage bowed to the girls and followed the others to Monsieur LeRoe's office at the Opera house.

The ballerinas gathered together to comfort Jamie who was still crying and shivering from their Phantom scare.

Madame Winter thumped her ballet cane to the ground, garnering her ballet troupe's attention. "Ladies! Enough crying. We have rehearsal to tend to. So I suggest you clear your minds of this nonsense. I will give you only five minutes to gather yourselves and not a minute more."

Hearing that she had some time, Skye took advantage and rushed over to Comte Savage before he had a chance to leave her sight. "Comte Savage!"

The striped hare turned to her, "Ah, hello again my dear."

"Comte Savage, I just wanted to ask if you truly are now one of the new owners of L'Opéra Populaire?"

"Why yes I am. You know me, I'm quite fond of Opera," he chuckled in a friendly manner, causing Skye to also chuckle along with him. "Though of course when I bought this Opera house, I never expected to hear that a so called 'Phantom' haunted its halls."

"I know what you mean. I don't think any of us expected that," said Skye.

"You seem like a rationale girl, have you ever actually seen this Phantom? Or do you think it's someone pulling some ridiculous prank on everyone?" asked the hare of the young vixen.

"Well, we heard a haunting laugh that scared us. That's why we all ran off screaming. But, perhaps you're right. After all we didn't actually see who it was who was laughing. And to tell the truth, some of the fly workers have pretended to be him in the past. So it's a little hard to tell really."

"I suspected as much," said the hare, more convinced that the whole Phantom story is just one big elaborate hoax. "Thank you my dear, you've given me enough reason to stand by my own judgement on this matter. After all, a Phantom? Pfft! Preposterous!"

"Despite some things I've heard, I couldn't agree more with you sir," said Skye, agreeing with the hare.

The hare smirked, "I can see why Jack was quite fond of you, my dear."

Skye blushed and smiled wide, "He was?" she asked hopefully.

"Yes, he'd always talk about how wonderful a friend you were and will always be to him."

Skye felt her heart drop, once he mentioned the word 'friend'. "Oh, yes of course," she said with a friendly, yet weak smile. "H-How is Jack? If I may ask?"

"Oh he's doing fine. Just finishing up his studies. He says he will be coming back to Zootopia in about six months when he's done with his education."

"He is?!" Skye squeaked with giddy excitement. Though upon seeing the hare be taken aback at her eagerness and given the stares her fellow ballerinas were giving her, she cleared her throat and composed herself. "Th-That's...good to hear," she said with a calm smile.

"Yes. Oh! That reminds me, has Judith arrived yet? Her brother James sent me a telegram that said she was coming back here to Zootopia to jump start her career at the Opera. She was quite a talented singer from what I remember."

"She was, but I'm afraid she's not coming back to become a singer. She's joining our ballet troupe."

"What?!" the hare spat, "That's impossible! She loved singing. Why would she not want to come join the Opera as a singer?!"

"I don't know, she made no mention of it in the letter she sent mother and I," Skye responded.

"Hm, strange. Well regardless, I hope she ends up changing her mind in the long run. I'd really love to hear her sing when I return to Zootopia in six months."

"Six months?" asked the vixen, "What do you mean?"

"I have business to tend to back home before I, well move back home to Zootopia," he chuckled good heartedly, "Moving arrangements, business affairs, financial transfers, that sort of thing. If I am to run this Opera house, then I must prepare for life back here you see."

"Yes, I understand," Skye nodded.

"Comte Savage!" Monsieur LeRoe called, popping his head out of his office, "Will you be joining us?"

"Yes, be there in half a tick!" he replied back to the buck. He turned back to the vixen, "Well then my dear, it's been a pleasure speaking to you again. I hope the next time I return here I'll get to see both you and Judith perform. Truly a shame though that Judith won't sing," the hare shook his head in disappointment. "I was greatly hoping that the next time I saw my future daughter-in-law, she would be up stage singing her beautiful heart out. My son is still quite fond of her you know."

"Oh, is that so?" Skye said, her voice weak as she forced a smile on her face.

"Yes, I believe he's loved her ever since they were children." The hare sighed contently and with pride, "Yes sir, I don't doubt in the least that when he gets back he's going to ask her to marry him, mark my words."

Skye said nothing, she merely forced a smile that hid the pain of her ripping heart.

"And who knows," the hare continued, "Perhaps by this time next year, I'll be expecting grandkits already," he chuckled, giddy with pride, "Yes, I couldn't ask for a better daughter-in-law. I hope he gets to propose soon, otherwise someone else might sweep her off her feet under my son's nose if he's not careful." The hare laughed boisterously while Skye just forced another smile and light chuckle. "I only tease. I don't think there's any other male that Judith could ever love more than my son. After all, what female in the right mind could ever resist my son's charms?"

"Yes, what female?" Skye repeated in a dull tone.

"Well, you take care my dear. I'll be sure to tell my son that you said 'hello'," Comte Savage said with a smile and a paw on her shoulder.

"Yes, thank you," she said with a small smile, "You take care too Comte Savage."

Comte Savage nodded and left, heading inside Monsieur LeRoe's office.

Once he was gone, Skye lowered her head and hugged her arms in a very insecure manner. A sad heartbroken frown overwhelmed her face.

Madame Winter kept her eyes on her daughter behind a curtain, having overheard the entire conversation. The normally stoic and uncaring elder vixen sighed quietly in disappointment, feeling for her daughter. For she knew all too well how much her daughter still loved the young Vicomte Jack Savage.

.

In Monsieur LeRoe's office…

"Monsieur LeRoe!" shouted Doug, "When my client decided to buy L'Opéra Populaire, you never mentioned anything about a Phantom haunting its walls! Now that sounds like something you should have told us from the very beginning!"

"Monsieur Ramses, I understand that both you and Comte Savage are upset about this. And believe me, I deeply apologize for withholding such an important detail, but I desperately needed to sell this Opera house. I can't bear to deal with this Phantom anymore! Perhaps you will be able to deal better with him than I ever could."

"Monsieur LeRoe," spoke Monsieur Bogo, "The point of the matter here is that you lied to our clients. And had them sign a legal document without informing them about everything they needed to know about this Opera house. If they wish, they very well could place a lawsuit against you." Monsieur Bogo turned to his client, "Comte Savage? What do you have to say regarding this matter? Do you wish to press charges?"

Comte Savage looked to the three arguing mammals, then placed a pensive paw to his chin. "Though I admit that I'm not happy with Monsieur LeRoe's decision to withhold information from us, I must admit that I do not wish to press charges nor appeal my purchase."

"But Comte Savage," argued Doug to the hare, "Are you not offended by Monsieur LeRoe's actions?"

"I am, but I refuse to allow a so called entity to ruin my purchase."

Monsieur LeRoe sighed in relief, though his conscious soon began to break through. He admired the hare's bravery but also feared that his foolishness and skeptic behavior would immediately make him a target for the Phantom's more violent nature..

Though he did not wish to nullify the purchase, he soon began to think that perhaps he was in the wrong for not telling them about the spiteful Phantom prior to their purchase. He let out a sigh heavy with guilt, "No Comte Savage, I'm afraid they're right. Please forgive me. I allowed my desperation - and my doctor's orders - to get the best of me. I'd like to avoid a lawsuit as much as I can, so if you wish to have your purchase refunded, then I will make it so."

"That sounds like quite the generous offer, but I'm afraid I won't be taking it. At least not until you answer a few questions for me first," said the hare.

"Questions?" repeated the buck deer.

"Yes, about the Phantom," said Comte Savage, "Now, I am not one to believe in any of this superstitious nonsense. And I believe that is a feeling that even some of your own workers share. I had quite an interesting conversation with Madame Winter's daughter just a moment ago. She told me that she and the other girls heard a frightening laugh that scared them out of their wits, but see the strange part was that despite all that, she herself is still not fully convinced that there is a Phantom. She also told me that there have been times that the Phantom turned out to be your very workers playing pranks in the Phantom's name. So my question to you is, is there really a Phantom? Or this just one large elaborate prank concocted by one or several of your employees?"

"Before I answer your question," started the roe deer, "Did Mademoiselle Skye happen to mention what happened to those mammals after they pretended to be the Phantom?"

"No, I believe she made no mention of that," answered the hare.

"They all quit. Do you know why?"

"Why?" asked a curious Clawhauser in place of the hare.

"Because they were all either threatened or had some sort of incident happen to them," replied Monsieur LeRoe.

Clawhauser gasped, covering his mouth with his paws on edge, "What kind of incidents?"

"Thankfully nothing that resulted in any fatalities, but they were still violent acts. One of my set workers had a very heavy sandbag land on his foot and break it after he dressed up as the Phantom and jumped out of the shadows with a hideous monster mask on. He frightened my ballerinas and crew half to death."

"Hold on a moment," Monsieur Bogo interjected, "Dressed as the Phantom? So you know what he looks like?"

"No, I'm afraid no one has ever really gotten a good look at him. It's only through shadows or quick peeks that anyone's seen him. All we know from these brief encounters is that he's male, very likely wears a tuxedo or frac, and that he's a small mammal. Possibly a red fox or a red panda based on the descriptions I've been given by those who were attacked by him."

"A fox?!" exclaimed Comte Savage. "Not to be stereotypical, but can't you assume you have your answer right there? Foxes are excellent tricksters! This is clearly one large hoax concocted by this no good fox of mystery. He may even be one of your own workers for all you know."

"Doubtful," replied LeRoe, "I only have two male red foxes in my employ and I highly doubt it's either one of them. One of them is a rather hefty fellow and everyone claims the Phantom has a much thinner frame. And the other one just started working for me about two months ago and these attacks have been going on for at least the past ten years."

"Ten years?!" exclaimed both Comte Savage and Doug in unison.

"Well no actually, the Phantom's mysterious occurrences began about ten years ago, but the bulk of threats and attacks didn't officially begin until about eight years ago," corrected the roe deer.

"Still my dear buck, why didn't you ever go to the police regarding this fiend?" asked the shocked Comte Savage.

"I did. But I must say it's not an easy thing to report a ghost to the local authorities," replied LeRoe. "Most of them laughed at me, but I at least managed to convince two officers to investigate."

"Did they find anything?" Clawhauser asked on edge.

"No, that's the strange part. They searched every inch of this place and found absolutely nothing. Not a trace. Not a single sign of intrusion. Nothing."

"Maybe it is a ghost then!" cried Clawhauser.

"Clawhauser! Honestly, that is ridiculous!" retorted Monsieur Bogo.

"No, I wouldn't dismiss that theory," said Monsieur LeRoe, "I know many of my workers have come to believe that the Phantom truly is a ghost."

"But that's absurd!" claimed Comte Savage, "Ghosts are nothing more than a fantasy. A myth. You can't tell me that you honestly believe that."

"I don't know what to believe anymore, Comte Savage," answered the buck deer. "So to answer your question from earlier about whether or not there really is a Phantom, I honestly don't know. Or rather I don't know whether or not to believe if this Phantom is a living being or an actual paranormal entity that haunts my Opera house. Some of the witnesses go as far to say that he can disappear and reappear as he wishes."

"Disappear?!" asked the hare in disbelief.

The deer nodded, "When it comes to the ghost rumor, most mammals believe it's either the ghost of Jonathan Wilde or that of a red panda named Fang Pan-Du, who unfortunately died during L'Opéra Populaire's construction. He had come to work drunk you see, and he fell while working on the roof's construction."

"Poor thing," sympathized Clawhauser.

"A pity, but perhaps deserving for coming to work in such a state," commented Monsieur Bogo, rather cold heartedly.

"Monsieur Bogo!" cried Clawhauser, "That's disrespectful." The buffalo just shrugged in response.

"From what I heard, Monsieur Pan-Du had his share of demons. He was in a rather depressive state in his life when he died. His wife had left him and he was heavily in debt due to gambling problems."

"He sounds like someone who would have plenty of reason to be angry," said Bogo.

"Yes," agreed LeRoe, "Though despite all that, recent rumors have favored Jonathan Wilde to be the Phantom."

"Why Jonathan Wilde?" asked Comte Savage.

"Well, two of the more violent incidents involved Jonathan Wilde's wife, Amelia Wilde. See a former fly worker of mine named Miles, who also happened to be a red fox, said some rather unsavory things regarding Madame Wilde."

"What kind of unsavory things?" asked the striped hare.

Monsieur LeRoe appeared to hesitate for a moment before he spoke, "He said that had it only been Monsieur Wilde who died in the fire, then he would've sought after Amelia Wilde and...well...he made this gesture." Monsieur LeRoe stood from his seat and began to awkwardly hump the air.

"My word!" exclaimed Comte Savage, greatly offended himself by the vulgar gesture.

"I couldn't agree more with you, sir," agreed an equally disgusted Bogo with the hare.

"It turned out that the Phantom did not take that lightly. That very same day, my worker broke both his legs and an arm as he was pushed off from the catwalk by someone who was there one moment and gone the next. From what he remembered seeing, he claimed to have briefly glimpsed at a red furred mammal in a suit. Though he did not see his face."

"Goodness," breathed Clawhauser.

"What of the second incident?" asked Comte Savage, "Did it also involve Amelia Wilde?"

"Yes, which again supports that if it is a ghost, then it may indeed be the ghost of Jonathan Wilde protecting his wife's honor."

"What happened this time?" asked Doug, "Was it another vulgar display?"

"Yes, though this time I think it was the result of a bet. A pig set worker named Harold claimed that he could prove that what happened to Miles was mere coincidence and thought that the best way to prove this was by further angering the Phantom. Even more so than Miles did. He acted out some things, far worse than what Miles did and…" Monsieur LeRoe cleared his throat, "Even acted out Amelia Wilde's vocal enthusiasm for what he would do to her. Needless to say that despite his confidence that nothing would happen to him, a large crescent moon that we had hanging, fell on him once he stepped below it."

Clawhauser covered his mouth with his paws in horror, while the other mammals' jaws dropped in shock.

"Thankfully the moon was made of plywood so he was not seriously injured. Though it did break his collarbone. We of course investigated the incident and hoped that the moon merely came loose on its own, but that was not the case. None of my workers had been up there when the incident happened but it was all too clear that the rope holding the moon had been deliberately cut."

"And you believe it was the Phantom?" asked Comte Savage.

Monsieur Le Roe shrugged. "I don't know who or what else could have committed these acts of violence."

Comte Savage sighed in thought. Silence filled the room as the rest of the mammals took all of the information they were given into consideration.

"Monsieur LeRoe, though all that you've told me does bring much concern, I think I will remain with my purchase," said the decided hare.

"You will?" asked Monsieur LeRoe, Monsieur Bogo, and Clawhauser simultaneously.

"Absolutely," replied the determined hare. "I and my co-buyer purchased L'Opéra Populaire fair and square and we're not about to let some Phantom frighten us away from our Opera house. Are we Monsieur Ramses?"

"Well actually," began the ram, "I'm not so sure how my client will react to this once she hears of the Phantom. Personally if this were my call to make, I'd take you up on your offer for a refund. But I'm afraid I have to discuss this with her first before I give you a definite answer."

"Monsieur Ramses, honestly. You can't tell me that you are actually afraid of this Phantom?"

"And you're not?" asked the buck deer of the hare.

Comta Savage scoffed, "Of course not. Supernatural or not, to me it seems that so long as I make no mention of Amelia Wilde nor do anything else to provoke him then I should be alright. Wouldn't you agree?"

Monsieur LeRoe sighed heavily, "Comte Savage, there is nothing I want more in this world than to rid myself of this opera house. But at the risk of scaring you off and condemning myself to be forever tied to this accursed place until the day I die, I must ask you to reconsider. I'm in no immediate danger considering that I follow all of the Phantom's orders, but believe me when I say that I am legitimately concerned for your safety if you think you can run this place without obeying his orders."

"Orders?!" spat the hare. "One moment you make it seem like he's one big nuisance and now you're telling me that he gives you orders!"

"Sadly, yes. I'm afraid that I haven't run my own Opera house in years." The roe deer opened a drawer from his desk. He pulled out a large clear bag full of black bordered envelopes and slammed it on the table for all to see, "All of these are letters from the Phantom. In them he tells me what he wants me to do to 'improve' the Opera House, as he puts it."

"All of these are from the Phantom?!" exclaimed a slack jawed Comte Savage as he dug into the bag and pulled out several letters from the Phantom. The others did the same.

"Yes," answered Monsieur LeRoe, "Though these are just from this past month."

Doug watched him in disbelief. "That's it. Monsieur LeRoe, despite not yet having spoken with my client, I will take that offer for a refund on her beha-"

"Just one moment Monsieur Ramses," interrupted the hare. "You will do no such thing."

"I don't believe that's up to you to decide Comte Savage," replied the ram.

"I believe it is," retorted the hare, "This is a joint purchase and I refuse to sell. At least not before giving this Phantom a fair fight."

"Comte Savage…" began the buck deer.

"Oh no need to worry Monsieur LeRoe, I'm no fool. I won't defy the Phantom. I won't even be here for the first six months of ownership. Nor will your client Monsieur Ramses. All I ask is for all of you to give me some time. Upon my return, my son should have graduated from his law enforcement studies. Surely if there is someone who will be able to assist me in getting to the bottom of this Phantom mystery it is him. And I trust that you can do your own investigating as well Monsieur Bogo. If I remember correctly, you used to be in law enforcement yourself as well, weren't you?"

"Yes, though I unfortunately had to leave it due to an injury," answered the buffalo. "And here I thought taking over my late father's notary office would be less stressful. Now I'm suddenly thrown back into police work. Chasing after a ghost no less," he scoffed.

"Yes, but it will all be worth it I promise you," said Comte Savage. He turned to the ram, "Monsieur Ramses, please give me seven to eight months. If our efforts to finally catch or confront the Phantom fail, then you can sell. Does that sound fair?"

The ram thought for a moment, then sighed, "Very well then. Eight months. If this Phantom is not caught by then, then we will sell." He turned to the deer, "Monsieur LeRoe, would you mind adding that to our contract? If Comte Savage is unsuccessful, then full ownership of L'Opéra Populaire shall go to him."

"Yes, of course," said the deer as he unraveled the deed to the property once more to make the addition.

Comte Savage meanwhile, turned to his notaries. "Monsieur Bogo, Monsieur Clawhauser, I will be counting on you two to be my eyes and ears while I'm gone for these six months. Please inform me of anything you may discover about the Phantom. I wish to capture this fiend upon my return and I'll need every bit of information that you can gather to do so."

"You can count on us sir. I will use every ounce of knowledge from my days as a lieutenant in the police force to make that possible," saluted the buffalo.

"U-Um...Monsieur Bogo?" asked a meek Clawhauser, "Since you will be staying here in Comte Savage's place, would it be alright if I return to the office? You know, somebody has to keep an eye on the rest of our clients and…"

"You're not going anywhere Clawhauser! You're staying here with me!" ordered the buffalo of the whimpering cheetah. "Besides, my cousin already volunteered to keep watch of the office while we're gone."

"Excellent, good to know you've thought ahead, Monsieur Bogo," said the hare.

"Yes, excellent," said Monsieur LeRoe as he wrote, "Let's just hope the Phantom hasn't overheard your plans. He has a tendency to eavesdrop and you wouldn't want your notaries to pay the price in your stead."

Comte Savage scoffed, "I'm certain Monsieur Bogo will be ready for anything this Phantom tries to pull on him, isn't that right Monsieur?"

"Absolutely," replied the cape buffalo with a confident nod.

"Very well then," shrugged the buck deer, "The best of luck to you all. I hope you have a better time dealing with this Phantom than I ever did. Oh and do keep in mind gentlemammals, that I plan to leave the moment I finish writing this last minute addition to the deed, so if you have any further questions regarding the Phantom or of the opera house in general, please be sure to ask Madame Winter. She's been here for about as long as I have and she's also been my trusted liaison between the Phantom."

"Thank you for letting us know Monsieur LeRoe," said Bogo while Clawhauser just moaned under his breath.

"Why did I agree to this?"

Comte Savage meanwhile, observed one of the black bordered envelopes that he took from the bag. In his mind, he played over all of the roe deer's warnings. Warnings, that suddenly made him feel insecure. What if the Phantom had been listening in on his plans? And if so, when would he receive his first threatening letter? Comte Savage began to feel a twinge of fear building deep inside him, until he shook his head, quickly discarding his insecurities. He looked at the envelope once more, and unraveled it to read it -

'You have disappointed me once again Monsieur LeRoe. Your operatic ear seems to be lacking. I ask you to once again review your choice of back-up singers or I shall once again review my choice of not dropping a chandelier on your head.

The Phantom'

Comte Savage scoffed, "Poppycock."

.

On stage…

Madame Winter paced before her ballerinas, keeping an eye on their footwork. She seemed pleased with them as the orchestra played a ballet segment from Wolfgang Amadeus Wolfzart's The Marriage of Figaro.

Once the music came to an end, the girls finished their dance. Madame Winter clapped, "Bravo girls. That was wonderful, though some of you still need some work. Jamie?"

The white rabbit perked her ears. "You were a little sluggish today. Let's hope that is not an issue for tomorrow night's performance."

"N-No ma'am," replied the meek rabbit.

"Skye, the same goes for you. Your footwork is excellent, but you need more energy. See to it that you fix that by tomorrow night."

"Yes mother," replied Skye with a fragile constitution.

"As for the rest of you, that will be all for today. You are dismissed," the girls relaxed and wandered off. Skye followed after her fellow ballerinas.

"Skye," said her mother. The young vixen turned to her.

"Yes mother?" she asked, a little intimidated as she believed her mother would scold her once again for her unenthusiastic performance. Her mother could be a bit scary with her stern and emotionally absent demeanor.

"You appear disturbed child. Is something bothering you?" asked the elder vixen - fully aware of what it is that's bothering her daughter, but curious nonetheless to hear her speak of it.

Though Madame Winter had never been one to openly express her emotions, she still cared very deeply for her children's...er...child's happiness and wellbeing. And at this very moment her child was suffering and needed some sort of an attempt at maternal comfort.

Skye hesitated to answer, embarrassed to admit to her dismissive mother that she was heartbroken to hear that her childhood crush favored her best friend over her. What was she? Twelve? How childish to be upset over something so silly. But still, how could she ignore her feelings for someone she loves? It hurt.

"Uh, bothering me? N-Nothing's bothering me mother," replied the nervous vixen who was just as closed about her emotions as her mother. "I guess I'm just a little bit rattled about the whole Phantom scare."

"The Phantom? Strange, his presence has never frightened you this much before. Are you certain that is all that's bothering you?"

"Yes, I'm sure," she said as she cleared her throat.

Madame Winter stared at her with an unconvinced gaze, but decided not to pry any further into her daughter's feelings. "Very well, if there is nothing wrong then I hope you haven't forgotten that your dear friend Judith will be arriving today."

"Yes, mother I know," replied the younger vixen with a smile and a nod.

"Have you prepared a room for her yet?"

"Yeah, May and I set it all up for her yesterday."

"Very good," replied the elder vixen. "Go get dressed and see to it that you and the other girls give her a warm welcome. Her brother James mentioned in his letter that she has been having a difficult time dealing with her father's death, so please try to make her feel at home."

"Of course mother," declared the young vixen, feeling sorry to hear that her childhood friend has been going through a difficult time in her life, "Judy's my best friend! I'll do anything to make her happy." Skye gave a sincere smile as her mother nodded, happy to hear that she could rely on her daughter despite her broken heart.

Skye turned to leave, but her mother stopped her once more. "Oh and one more thing, don't mention the Phantom to Judith, at least not yet. And be mindful that none of the other girls say anything either. I just don't think it would be proper for Judith to be hearing any ghost stories from those ridiculous girls at the moment. Not when her father's death is still so fresh in her mind."

"Yes mother, I completely understand. I'll be sure to keep them in line when she gets here," said the young vixen before she left toward the dressing rooms.

Madame Winter gave her a nod and went her own way. She headed deep into the backstage area, then went down, down, further down than most mammals dared to tread in L'Opéra Populaire. She continued down until she reached the second underground cellar where old set pieces were stored. She kept her gaze low in thought until she suddenly stopped with a small gasp. The vixen ended her train of thought when she spotted someone hidden in the shadows and behind some of the larger set pieces. "Oh, it's you," she said to the mysterious mammal - to the Phantom himself.

The Phantom said nothing.

Madame Winter huffed, "Nothing to say as usual I see. Why am I not surprised?"

The Phantom had no retort to her snarky remark. All he did was reach into the lapel of his coat and pulled out a black bordered envelope. He tossed it down by her feet.

Madame Winter glanced down at the letter, then back at him. She exhaled somewhat annoyed by the fact that he didn't just hand it to her - did he have to be so rude as to toss it down at her feet? Regardless, she reached down to pick it up and opened it.

It read:

'My theater's new owners arrived today. The fools believe that they can capture me. I trust that you won't tell them anything that will bring them any closer to accomplishing that? Know that if you ever do, those idiots won't be the only ones suffering my wrath.

Enforce my rules unto them. Or I will.

The Phantom'

Madame Winter scoffed, not at all fazed by the threat made unto her within the letter. To her, this type of back and forth was commonplace, "Yes, yes I know the rules as well as our compromise. You can trust that I will let them know of your rules and that I will say nothing that will risk either mine or my child's well being. But of course, now that you are here, I must ask what it is you were thinking when you frightened my daughter and my ballerinas out of their wits earlier this morning? I thought that we had an agreement that in return for my services, you would not harm my daughter, myself or my girls."

The Phantom once again said nothing in response, he merely pulled out another black bordered envelope and tossed it at Madame Winter's feet. The vixen picked it up and opened it. "I see you were prepared for this conversation," she said surprised at the letter's contents. The letter read:

'I promised to never physically harm your daughter and ballerinas. I never promised that I wouldn't scare them if they ever annoyed me.'

Madame Winter folded up the letter again, "Be that as it may, I hope that you can at the very least respect my plea as a mother to leave my daughter and the rest of my ballerinas alone. I have a new girl coming in today and both she and my daughter are going through a very difficult time. So I ask you to please let them be. At least just for tonight. And if any of my girls should annoy you, then I will deal with them myself."

As expected, the Phantom said nothing. All he did was release a snort through his nostrils and turned to leave - disappearing into the shadows.

Madame Winter sighed and shook her head in disappointment at his action, uncertain if his small gesture was an indication of him completely ignoring her request or if he was actually going to comply, albeit hesitantly. "In all these years, I truly believed that freedom would've been enough to bring peace to your troubled soul. But I suppose that was too naive a thought," said the vixen with another disappointed shake of her head, "It seems that at this rate, nothing will ever be able to thaw that cold heart of yours."

.

Out on the city streets of Zootopia, a carriage made its way toward L'Opéra Populaire. Within the carriage, rode a beautiful, twenty year old gray furred rabbit with amethyst colored eyes - this was Judith Hopps, the bunny who appeared to be the topic of interest to many at L'Opéra Populaire.

She was dressed in a vibrant yet modest lavender dress and matching hat with a decorative pink feather. On the outside looking in, it made her look so elegant and bright, but internally she was anything but. For deep down she had nothing but a dim sadness dwelling in her melancholy heart - a sadness which stemmed from the recent loss of her father. Her musical mentor and partner.

She stared out the open window to the beautiful city around her. Much of it had changed since she moved away, but much of it still remained as it was since her childhood.

As she stared out, her driver made a stop at an intersection that was quite familiar to her.

At the corner to her right was Jumbeaux's Cafe, an ice cream shop where her father once took her to buy a much needed ice cream cone after she had scraped her knee at her favorite playground. It hadn't changed a bit since her youth. It was enough to spark even the smallest semblance of a smile upon her face.

She kept her eyes glued to it just as a father skunk and his young daughter stepped out of it, each enjoying a rather large ice cream cone. Though her physical eyes saw the skunk pair, in her mind she saw them suddenly morph into her and her father, laughing and smiling happily as they did once so long ago. Soon after, Judy's smile faded and her vibrant jewel like amethyst eyes dimmed back to the opaque, near lifeless color they had been since the day her father died.

When her driver, a horse named Bernie, continued on his way with the carriage, Judy couldn't help but keep staring back at the slowly disappearing ice cream shop. Desperate to hold on to days gone by.

"Are you holding up alright back there, Mademoiselle Hopps?" asked her driver.

"Huh?" the bunny squeaked as he took her from her thoughts.

"I asked if you're alright miss," repeated the horse, "You seem rather quiet back there,"

"Oh, yes. I'm alright," she replied with a forced smile, "I guess I'm just a little distracted. It's been years since I've been back to Zootopia and I guess it's just a lot to take in."

"I understand what you mean miss," replied the horse in casual conversation, "It can be difficult to become accustomed to a new place, even if it is a place you've been to before. But at least you will be with close friends. Your brother says that Madame Winter and her daughter will be taking you in, is that right?"

"That's right," Judy answered with a polite smile.

"That's wonderful to hear mademoiselle! A wonderful singer like you getting such an opportunity to live and perform at the illustrious L'Opéra Populaire! That must be so exciting!" said the cheerful horse.

"Yeah...exciting," replied Judy with a weak smile which quickly dipped into a frown. At any other point in her life, she would have agreed wholeheartedly with the horse. She loved music! And she loved to sing! And performing at L'Opéra Populaire had always been a dream of hers! But it was a dream she shared with her father. One where in which she would sing up on stage and he would play his violin for her down in the orchestra pit. But now that he was gone...

Things just...haven't felt the same. It was as if her love of music died alongside her father. She simply couldn't bring herself to sing anymore. Not without her father's beautiful violin music there to accompany her while she sang. It was a terrible feeling for a passionate music lover like her.

As the carriage continued to move, bringing her closer and closer to her destination, she reached into her purse and pulled out an old photo of herself, her family and the Winters. They were all huddled together and smiling. Her eyes scanned the photo for a moment, until her gaze focused on her father. She ran a thumb over her father's smiling face, then moved her gaze toward her brother James. As she stared at the image of her older brother, she began to hear his voice echoing in her ears from the day she left home...

.

"I know this is difficult for you Judy, but it's what's best for you," said her brother's voice as they stood outside of his large bunny shaped home.

It was just the two of them outside as James wished to speak privately with his clearly depressed sister. Fortunately enough for him, she had already said good-bye to the rest of their family inside, so there was no worry that their younger siblings would interrupt the serious talk they had to have.

"I know," Judy replied, obedient but unconvinced by her older brother's words. She stood with a low dangling head and with one of her heavy travel bags in her paws. Behind her, the carriage that was to take her back home to Zootopia awaited for her to board.

James Hopps - the eldest Hopps child, who bore an almost identical physical resemblance to his younger sister with the only exception being that James had brown eyes like their father - noticed her skeptical demeanor. He frowned and softened his words towards her, placing a paw at her shoulder, "Judy, father's death has been difficult on all of us. But we've gone through this before with mother. I know you were still fairly young when it happened, but I'm sure you remember how difficult it was for father when she died. He was probably more devastated than you are now. He wouldn't even eat."

"Yeah, I remember that," Judy acknowledged.

"Remember how you wouldn't stop trying to force feed him because he was getting so thin?"

Judy nodded.

"That's because you are a tryer. You're not a quitter. You've never given up on anything you've set your mind to. And you never give up on others. Just like you never gave up on father when he needed you most."

Judy said nothing, but did look up at him. Perhaps a semblance of her optimistic self coming back? No, maybe not. She immediately brought her head back down. Her brother was right. She normally had always been a positive and hopeful girl that always looked at the glass half full, but...that just wasn't her anymore.

"As your oldest brother, it is now my duty to look after you and the rest of our 274 siblings. Which is no easy feat considering that my wife and I already have fifty-three of our own." James gently flicked her chin with his index finger, "I just want what's best for you because that's what father would've wanted. You can't give up on your dream of being a world renowned opera singer at L'Opéra Populaire just because father isn't here anymore."

"I know James, but…" Judy began, still doubtful of herself and everything.

"No buts. You promised father on his deathbed that you'd keep singing and make it to L'Opéra Populaire on his behalf. And if Madame Winter managed to gain approval to bring you in, then take advantage of that opportunity. It's okay if you want to take it slow. That's actually why I asked her to at the very least bring you in as a ballet dancer. After that, if you feel comfortable enough, perhaps you could one day return to your true love of singing."

"Yeah, maybe," Judy replied, skeptical that that would ever be the case.

"Maybe? Don't tell me you've become so ungrateful that you won't even try," James answered, growing a bit agitated by her lack of confidence.

"I didn't say that! What I…" Judy sighed, struggling to maintain her feelings in check, "What I meant was-I'm thankful. I'm thankful that you sought out this opportunity for me. And I'm thankful to you for not giving up on me...but..." Judy's voice trembled a bit.

"But what?"

As strong as Judy tried to be, she couldn't take it any more and the tears of insecurity and depression began to swell at her eyes. "I don't think I'm strong enough…I just can't…" her voice broke as a tear managed to escape.

James quickly hugged his sister to comfort her. "There, there. I know it's difficult."

"I just miss him so much," she cried into his shoulder, "I want to be strong and keep my promise to father but I...I just don't feel like I can do this alone. I don't want to be alone right now! Can't I stay a little longer? I really want to be with family right now."

James sighed as he patted his sister's back. He wanted to give in and tell her to stay home, but he knew deep down that, that wouldn't help her. If he was to get his old sister back, then he couldn't let her make a habit of giving up or running away from her problems, because that just wasn't Judy.

He patted her back once more and pulled her away to speak face to face with her, "Who said you would be alone? You won't be alone. Skye will be there, as well as Madame Winter. And who knows? Perhaps you'll make new friends there."

Judy hiccuped and wiped her tears as her brother's words began to slowly reach her and put her at ease.

"Besides, I know for a fact that no matter what happens, you will not be alone," James continued.

"What do you mean?" Judy asked, wiping her face clean.

"Don't you remember father's promise to you before he died? He promised you, that to ensure that you will never be alone in your musical ventures, that he will send you the Angel of Music to watch over you and guide you in his stead."

Judy released a low stifled chuckle as she wiped at her remaining tears, "James, that's from that old children's fairy tale father used to read to us."

"So? It was father's last promise to you and you know how good he was at keeping promises," James said with a confident smile.

Though she still felt sad and uncertain about everything, Judy couldn't help but return her brother's smile. A bit of an unspoken hope had begun to return to her.

"Monsieur Hopps!" called Bernie, the carriage driver, "Might we be on our way, monsieur?"

"Yes, one moment," replied the rabbit to the horse driver. He turned his attention back to his sister, "I promise everything will be alright. I don't want to see you cry anymore," he said wiping away the last few remnants o f tears on her face. "Now will you please show me a semblance of my true little sister and just try?"

Judy sniffled and wiped at one final tear. She nodded with a smile, "Okay James, I'll try."

"There she is," James said as he opened his arms to bring her in for a hug. The two siblings hugged, "I want you to write me as soon as you get there, you hear me?"

"I will," Judy replied, maintaining her smile. She then turned to the carriage, staring at it for a moment. This was it. Her journey to a new life. Her journey to live out her musical career without her father there to join her or guide her…

Judy inhaled a deep breath and marched to the carriage. Bernie closed the door behind her and went back up front.

James went up to Judy at the carriage window. He extended his paw out to his sister who took it. "Good luck little sister."

Judy nodded as the carriage slowly began to move. They released one another's paws as they each waved good-bye. "Good-bye! Take care of everyone James!" Judy called out to him.

"I will! Take care! And may the Angel of Music watch over you!" he called out as Judy's carriage pulled further and further away. Judy took in his words and sat inside the carriage. The idea of an Angel of Music did seem silly to an extent, but maybe James and her father were right. Maybe she wouldn't be alone. Maybe she would have nothing to fear. Maybe, she would make her father proud. And maybe...just maybe...her Angel of Music would come to her and inspire her to sing again one day.

She pulled out the photo of her and everyone together as her mind returned back to the present moment…

.

In present time…

Judy continued to gaze at the photo in her paws. Her eyes wandered onto the image of a happy twelve year old Skye and her eleven year old self in ballerina tutus. Right beside them stood a younger Madame Winter.

The photo marked the last time Judy had ever seen her old friend before she and her family moved out of town. That was nine years ago. She wondered how her old best friend looked like now? Or if she would even recognize her?

The very thought intrigued her with enough curiosity that for the first time in weeks, she had actually looked forward to something. She smiled, genuinely happy. Maybe her brother was right. Maybe her coming here won't be so bad. At least she'll get to reconnect with old friends and finally be able to dance and perform on stage at the illustrious L'Opéra Populaire just like her father did years ago!

She glanced at the photo one more time with a smile and a growing sense of hope.

.

Meanwhile...

Below L'Opéra Populaire. Down, deep, deep, deep down at its cellars - its undiscovered and untouched fifth cellar - that lay five levels below ground, moving past forgotten underground torture chambers from Zootopia's Revolution of 1848, and past the dark underground waters of a long black lagoon…

There lay a lair…

A realm of darkness, a world of secrecy, a kingdom of music…

Home…

To none other than the ghostly figure, the mammal of mystery himself…

...The Phantom of the Opera...

Said figure tread through his dark somewhat foggy lair, elevating his long black cape with one arm over various lit candles, which served to light his way toward his home below the opera house. In the very same arm that he used to lift his cape, he also carried a lit lantern in his paw. Below his elevated cape, his long red, fluffy tail with a black tip swayed side to side with the momentum of each step.

He wandered further into his home, which was mostly dark as it was lit only by a series of decoratively placed candelabras. Though despite its somewhat grim appearance, it still had an air of hominess to it.

He had a large decorative bed, possibly stolen from a previous theater performance given how much it looked like a bed fit for an eighteenth century king. He also had a large mirror, which was cracked at the top half (where one would view their face). There were also several rooms divided by beautiful red velvet curtains, a dinner table and chairs (also stolen from a set piece), a large kingly throne, various other stolen props and treasures, and to top it all off, a large and beautiful black organ.

At the organ were musical sheets for an in progress musical play titled, Don Juan Triumphant - though given all the pen scratches and crinkled sheets on the ground, it was clear that it was anything but triumphant at the moment.

The mysterious mammal approached his dinner table, where a very familiar and peculiar object awaited him. The Phantom set his lantern down onto the table, where the object became visible in the lantern's light.

It was a small, somewhat beat up music box that had a little toy rabbit sitting on top of it. The little rabbit was dressed in Persian robes and had cymbals in his tiny paws.

The Phantom brought forth a black paw toward it and turned the lever at the side of the box. A precious little melody began to play and the tiny rabbit played his cymbals along with the music. As the box played, the Phantom brought forth his face from the shadows and into the light of the lantern.

Once his face came into view, it was clear that many of the rumors revolving around the Phantom were true. The Phantom was a red fox. Not only that, but the rumors regarding his attire were also true, in that he wore a very formal black frac. He also bore a striking resemblance to the late Jonathan Wilde, but... something was off. For unlike Jonathan Wilde, he did not have blue eyes but green ones - emerald green ones to be exact. There was also the matter that he had one very distinct and prominent feature that no one had ever mentioned before.

For upon his face, he wore a white mask that covered the right side of his face - including his snout and the corner of his mouth and lower jaw.

Of the Wilde family, there was only one member who had received horrific damage to the right side of his face that required it to be hidden from the rest of the world... and that was...Nick Wilde...

The Phantom was none other than Nick Wilde. The young fox that everyone had come to believe had died during Le Palais du Renard's fire twenty-two years ago.

The now fully grown, masked fox took a seat before the music box, taking a moment to simply listen and appreciate its beautiful music. He sat quietly as the gentle melody resonated all throughout the lonely lair.

Within Nick's eyes, it was difficult to tell what it was exactly that he felt towards the curious object. On the one paw, it was his most valuable treasure as it was the final gift he would ever receive from his parents - or from anyone for that matter. In that sense, it brought precious memories to him from when he last saw them alive. He remembered his father's final play brought to life by his mother's beautiful voice, he remembered when his parents had gifted him with the music box, and he remembered playing and singing beside his mother by the piano - smiling and laughing with her.

He was happy…

But then, on the other paw... his precious gift, also served as a tragic reminder of the horrible events that transpired immediately afterwards…

The masked fox's snout wrinkled in a sneer as he remembered Beau Bellwether and his three fellow rams and of how they so heartlessly murdered his parents, of how they mutilated his face, and of how his dying mother came to revile and reject him - her precious son, her handsome boy - reduced to nothing more but a hideous and disfigured monster!

Nick dug and clenched his claws against the surface of his table with anger, adding yet another set of claw marks to his already clawed table. No doubt from previous years when he had made it his birthday tradition to sit down and listen to his music box while simultaneously reminiscing on everything that happened on that fateful day.

And now...twenty-two years later today, marked yet another anniversary of that very day that he would never be able to forget.

He relaxed his grip as he continued to reminisce. His thoughts wandered back to the very moment just before the chandelier fell on him...

.

He recalled how he stood there as it quickly plummeted down toward him, all the while he stood there helpless and frightened beyond all measure.

But then...before he knew it, he suddenly felt a survival instinct kick in and every impulse within him screamed at him to move! Which he thankfully did. He jumped to the side before it was too late - the large chandelier just barely missed him by a hair.

Once the chandelier hit the ground, the floor around it cracked, forcing several planks to elevate toward the air. One of which pushed little Nick back, causing him to slide back down toward the open gap between the shattered planks and the chandelier.

The traumatized and mute kit could do nothing more but whimper as he held on for dear life, burying his tiny claws into the plank. He looked around him and saw that the fire was spreading past the stage and all around him. What was he to do now?!

It was then that he glanced down below the now open floor and into the dark abyss that lay below him.

Fortunately for him, as luck would have it, his fox night vision allowed him to see and realize that there was a storage room down below. He also managed to catch a quick glimpse of what appeared to be a high tower of stacked wooden crates reaching close to where he dangled. He heard the chandelier groan as its weight was beginning to bear down. It wouldn't be long now until what remained of it would fall in the rest of the way and possibly drag him down with it.

Without a moment to lose, the young kit flung himself over to one of the boxes. He barely managed to land on one of the top ones, but he thankfully did reach it. He had never been more thankful to have night vision as he was able to see himself the rest of the way down from the pile of boxes. Once on the ground, he spotted what appeared to be an old door that was labeled 'CONDEMNED' and 'OFF LIMITS'. He had no idea what the first word meant but he didn't have time to think about it. If it was a way out, then he would take it!

He stood on the tips of his toes and turned the knob as hard and wildly as he could, desperate to get it open, just as the chandelier groaned again. The small fox then began to ram the old door with his shoulder - cautious not to damage his music box underneath his arm. Fortunately enough for him, the old door's rusted hinges started coming loose. He gained some speed and rammed against it as hard as he could. The bottom hinge came loose and created a gap as the door twisted. It was a small gap, but perhaps big enough for him to crawl through.

The chandelier groaned again and started breaking through. Terrified, Nick crawled through. It was a tight fit but he managed to squeeze through. He entered a dark room with a long stairway leading down to further darkness. Not knowing where else to go, the young kit followed the mysterious stairway down to wherever it was that it lead to.

After quite some time, the kit reached a series of multiple dark corridors. Though he no longer felt the need to run away from the fire anymore, he still felt the need to keep moving forward - in case it followed him down there. He chose the middle corridor and walked through it. Cobwebs surrounded the black corridor, as well as the unpleasant smell of murky water. Sound wise, Nick could hear an occasional echoing drip of water, straight up ahead.

He trembled as he walked through the lonely corridor. He had no idea where he was going and his horribly burnt face was starting to sting again. He placed a gentle paw over it and hugged his music box with the other arm as he started to cry again. He wanted his mommy and daddy to hold him and tell him that everything would be alright.

He sobbed quietly the rest of the way, until he surfaced out from the corridor. It was still dark, but with his nightvision, he could see the sight before him clear as day. It was a large space with a huge gate which lead to another section of corridors. The little kit stood there, amazed at the sight. For though he was scared, something about this whole mysterious place, really spoke to him.

Why it even strangely felt like...home…

.

Nick's mind returned to the present day…

He sighed and looked around at his surroundings, taking in the dark realm that eventually became his home. He gazed back down to his music box just as it stopped playing.

He stretched a paw out to it, gently caressing a chipped area on it. Damaged, just like him.

Nick balled his fist and hissed quietly in anger as he stood in a huff. He headed to one of his many rooms covered by red velvet curtains.

In it, he had numerous books - some strewn all over the floor while others where kept neatly in bookshelves. On one of his walls, he had a couple of ad posters for a circus called 'CIRQUE DE FOULFELLOW'. One of the posters read, 'Come see The Gorgeous Dancing Vixens! And our Master of Mystery, Robin the Great!' while the other poster read, 'Come see the Monster Kit! Only at our Freakshow!'.

On the other wall just ahead of him, he had various old newspaper clippings about Beau Bellwether. They depicted places where he had been and events he had attended over the years - including the Wilde family's memorial service which was held right there where Le Palais du Renard's remains once stood. The hypocritical ram's 'saddened' face in the newspaper clipping filled Nick with an immeasurable rage. How dare he pretend to care, when he knew full well what he had done!

If there was ever one thing that the Phantom fox cursed himself over the years was that he couldn't go after the ram sooner in his youth. So many years lost! But he swore to himself that no matter what and no matter how long it took him, he would make that ram pay in blood for what he had done to him and his parents!

Just below the newspaper clippings was a large table with a very rough, pawmade model of the city, along with a couple of detailed maps and a list of places (all of which were crossed out, save for the name of one place). They were all places where he had searched for Beau Bellwether, but ultimately could not find him.

The fox Phantom took a quill pen and angrily crossed off the remaining location on the list and etched a line over the same location on one of the maps. He brought the quill's feather to his mouth and nibbled on it in thought. After a moment, he circled a new location. That is where he will search next.

Right beside him by the edge of the table, was a carving knife - very likely the same one he had used to make the pawmade model of the city. He picked it up and observed it for a moment, before using it to stab an image of Beau Bellwether on the wall.

With that, he left the room, picking up a black fedora hat that hung on a coat rack on his way out. He approached the edge of his lair and climbed aboard a small black boat that rested at the shore. The Phantom fox hung a lantern at the front tip of the boat and then picked up a black colored oar to launch himself into the murky dark waters of the black lagoon. He sailed away, determined to search his newly marked location in hopes of finally finding his sworn enemy.

.

The carriage carrying Judy finally arrived outside of L'Opéra Populaire. "We're here Mademoiselle Hopps," Bernie announced.

Judy's eyes opened wide in wonder as she stepped out of the carriage before Bernie could even get the door open for her. She stared at the large opera house in awe. "Is this really L'Opéra Populaire? It looks more beautiful than I remember it!" Judy squeaked. A true smile plastering itself on her face at last.

"Yes, indeed it is," concurred the horse. "Would you like me to carry your luggage in for you, Miss Hopps?"

"Huh?" Judy turned to him, "Oh, no. That's alright. I think I can carry them myself. It's only two bags after all," Judy replied politely as she carried a bag in each paw.

"Are you sure?" asked the horse.

"Yes, thank you," she said as the horse shrugged. She continued to admire the building's gorgeous architecture as Bernie saddled up to leave.

"Would you like me to escort you in before I leave, mademoiselle?"

"No, that's okay. I think I'm good Bernie. Thanks for everything and please give my family my warm regards when you see them," she said with an unwavering smile.

"My pleasure Miss Hopps. And believe me, I'll be sure to let your brother know that you were actually smiling upon arrival."

Judy giggled, "I'm sure he'll like hearing that."

Bernie tipped his hat to her and pulled the carriage out. "Au revoir mademoiselle! And take care!"

"Thank you Bernie! And take care too!" Judy waved good-bye to the horse. She then turned and walked over to the opera house's large gate. She gazed at the building once more before shifting her gaze down to the floor. She took in a deep breath, bracing herself to take that first big step. This was it, she thought - the point of no return.

Judy stepped past the gate and opened her eyes. Nothing had changed of course, but she was proud of herself for at least taking that first figurative and literal step. More so because something told her that from this point forward, nothing would ever be the same again. Why that was, she did not know. Perhaps it was because her father would not be there to join her. But whatever the reason, she knew for certain that she'd do what she could to make him proud. "Well Father," she said with a determined sigh, "Here goes."

Once Judy had stepped inside, her jaw dropped in awe once more. The inside of the opera house was absolutely beautiful! True she knew it would be beautiful, but it had been so long since she had last been inside it that she had almost forgotten how enormous and gorgeous it was. As she moved forward down the long aisle, she couldn't help but keep her amethyst eyes glued to everything. The rows upon rows of both large and small red cushioned seats, the finely crafted balcony boxes, the humongously large and spellbindingly beautiful crystal chandelier that hung up on high above the first row of seats.

It wasn't until she lowered her gaze from the chandelier down to the stage that she at last noticed some mammals standing there. Her eyes sparkled when she saw that they were hanging up a large banner which read, 'Welcome Judy!'.

"Okay, I think that looks good. What do you think Gazelle?" Judy overheard a pale yellow furred vixen with her back to her ask a tall gazelle.

"Hmm?" pondered the gazelle, "I think the left side should be a little higher. It's still a little lopsided. Finnick sweetie, can you please raise it up a little bit on this side!" the gazelle called up to the small fennec fox from before.

"You got it gorgeous!" the miniature fox called back down to her.

Judy approached the stage where the gazelle and vixen stood, "Excuse me," she said as the gazelle and vixen turned to face her, "Hi!" she waved at them. "I'm looking for Madame Winter or Skye Winter. I'm Judy Hopps. I think you've been expecting me?" she pointed up to the banner with a smile.

The vixen's eyes widened, "Judy? Is that really you?" she asked with a smile.

"Skye?" Judy asked after she had finally managed to get a good look at the vixen's face.

"Judy!" squealed the vixen in delight.

"Skye!" Judy squeaked in return, dropping her bags to run to her friend.

Skye ran off the stage just as Judy met her halfway. The two girls embraced each other in a strong hug! They pulled away, still holding each other's paws as they each took in the other's now grown appearance. "Judy look at you. You're so beautiful!"

"I could say the same to you Skye! You're so pretty!" replied the bunny as she glanced down at Skye's blue dress. "I love your dress!"

"Thanks, I really like yours too," replied the vixen, "Mother said to dress appropriately for your arrival. Couldn't greet you at the door in my tutu, now could I?"

Judy giggled, "No I guess not." The two girls giggled as they released each other's paws. "It's so great to see you Skye. It's been too long."

"Yeah. Nine years. Hard to believe we were still little girls when we last saw each other."

"I know," concurred Judy.

Gazelle made her way to them. "Well isn't that rude of you Skye. Aren't you going to introduce us?" she said playfully.

"Oh yeah. Judy this is Gazelle, she's one of my closest friends here and is our opera house's prima donna. Gazelle, this is Judy. My childhood best friend."

"It's a pleasure," said the bunny, extending a paw.

"Likewise," replied the gazelle as the two shook paw and hoof.

Skye pointed up to the stage where Finnick and Gideon, a chubby red fox, stood on top of ladders beside the banner. "Those two over there are some of our flyworkers, Finnick and Gideon. Say hello to Judy guys!" she called up to them.

"Hey how are ya!" replied finnick with a tip of his newsies cap.

"A pleasure!" Gideon called back.

"Nice to meet you!" answered the bunny to the two.

"So," Gazelle said, garnering Judy's attention. "Skye tells me that you're quite the gifted singer. Is that true?"

"Uh...well I wouldn't say gifted," Judy replied modestly.

"Aw, come on Judy. There's no need to be modest. She's actually very good at it," Skye replied.

"Well, maybe we can hear you sing. I know they'll be holding singing auditions very soon. We'll be performing Carmen in two months. You should try out," suggested the gazelle to Judy.

"Yeah, maybe. I'll think about it." Judy uttered somewhat uneasily. A part of her eager and desperate to sing, but the other half of her terrified of the very idea. Terrified, because she feared it would be disrespectful to her father to sing so eagerly without him and so soon after his death.

"But you really should. Skye said you have the voice of an angel," Gazelle pushed on.

"Uh...well I…" Judy stammered as Skye noticed how uncomfortable the mere suggestion of singing made her.

The vixen stepped in to help out her friend, "She does have the voice of an angel, I can promise you that. But as much as we'd all love to hear Judy sing, I'm afraid she's only come to join us as a member of our ballet troupe. Isn't that right Judy?"

Judy smiled at the vixen, "Yeah. I mean...don't get me wrong, I love to sing. But I've never sung in front of such a large audience before, and I don't think I'm ready for such a challenge just yet."

Gazelle frowned, "That's a shame."

"Don't worry," Skye began, "She's just as good a dancer as she is a singer, so I think she'll be alright."

Gazelle nodded in agreement, "I guess if it's what makes you comfortable. It would be nice to hear you sing one day though."

Though still doubtful of herself, Judy nodded politely, "Hopefully one day."

"Hey!" Skye cut in, "How about we give you a tour of the rest of the opera house! I know the rest of the girls are eager to meet you."

"That'd be nice Skye, but I was wondering if maybe you could show me where I'll be staying first? I'd kind of like to drop off these heavy bags before I drag them all over the place," Judy chuckled a little.

"Oh right, come this way," Skye said with a wave of her paw. The three girls headed backstage to the dressing room area. With such a large opera house, it was possible for practically every performer to receive a room. Skye opened the door to Judy's room. It was spacious and had a bed, vanity table and mirror, a dresser, and a large body mirror right across from her bed. Judy stepped in alone, taking in her new room...her new home. It was beautiful, but it also served as a heavy reminder that she was no longer home. She truly was at L'Opéra Populaire...without her father. She had been asked to sing...without her father. She had been tempted to sing...without her father.

She wanted to sing! She had to sing!

Skye and Gazelle glanced at one another, noticing Judy's suddenly silent and somewhat melancholy behavior. "Judy? Are you okay?" Skye asked with concern.

Judy turned to them, "I'm okay. I guess I just need a minute to settle in."

"Don't worry about it," said a completely understanding Skye, "Take as long as you need. We'll come get you when you're ready." Skye shut the door and she and Gazelle left Judy alone in her room.

Judy walked further into her room and stood in the middle. She set her bags down and noticed a nearby table. On the table, she spotted some musical pages for the Marriage of Figaro and Carmen. She had not gazed upon musical sheets in quite some time, it almost felt refreshing to view them. She set the pages back down, then saw that just across the table were a cross, a candle, and a box of matches.

In light of the holy object, she pulled out a small portrait of her father from one of her bags and set it on the table beside the cross.

As she focused on the religious symbol, it spurred her brother's words to play back in her head. "Don't you remember father's promise to you before he died? He will send you the Angel of Music to watch over you and guide you in his stead."

Judy's gaze fell in thought. She knew she didn't want to sing without her father, but she needed to sing. Not only because she loved to do so, but because it was also her outlet. And she desperately needed to express herself after so many days of silence.

If her brother was right and if her father had indeed sent her an angel, then perhaps it would be okay to sing without him, right? She mulled over her father's and brother's words a little longer, until a thought popped in her head. A theory behind her father's meaning that she hadn't thought of before…

What if what her father meant...was that he, her father, would be her Angel of Music? And he would come and watch over her and continue to sing with her even after death?

If that was the case…

Curiosity and hope reigned in Judy's mind. Perhaps she would be able to sing with her father once more! She felt a song swell deep in her heart at the thought. And for the first time ever in weeks, she felt the urge to sing itch at her throat and break free at last through her angelic voice.

Father, you once spoke of an angel

I used to dream it was fantasy

Now I believe more than ever

And I know you're here

She sang, no longer able or willing to restrain herself. Her voice was as many had described it to be: angelic, bordering on seraphic. True, her voice sounded somewhat untrained and rusty from its lack of usage, but even still there was something unnaturally pure, gentle, soft, yet powerful about it.

Here in this room, please come and find me

Father, my guardian angel

I am here, awaiting your instruction

Judy took a match from the box and lit it to light the candle in honor of her father - her angel of music. She blew out the match, but kept it tightly in her paws as she paced the room. She kept her gaze up, hopeful to hear a response.

Heed to my calls, father

Judy turned to her reflection in the mirror…

She slowly approached it with each lyric.

Come to me my angel of music,

Help my voice to soar once more

I wish to sing beside you as before

Judy placed a paw at the mirror as she sang to her reflection.

Please make it so…

Judy took a deep breath as her voice crescendoed into a beautiful plea as her powerful voice echoed through...past beyond the mirror and into a long, dark secret corridor that lay behind it.

Angel of Music,

Guide and Guardian!

Grant to me your glory!

Her angelic voice resonated all throughout the secret corridor and down into an enormous hall that served as a sort of intersection where dozens upon dozens of corridors met. In that room, a certain masked fox just so happened to land ashore to where the dark waters met concrete land. He hopped off his boat and took a rope to tie it ashore to the platform.

It was then…

That his pointed ear twitched, catching wind of an absolutely subliminal sound. He turned to realize that it was a voice. But who's? In all his years at the opera house, he had never heard such a beautiful and unique voice. Not since…

"Mother?" he uttered.

He shook his head in disbelief. No, it couldn't be. His mother was dead. And it couldn't be her spirit. His mother hated him at the time of her death after all. And her ghost had never presented itself to him before, so it couldn't be her. Could it?

He pivoted his ear in the direction of the voice, determined to find out who it truly was that was singing, as he heard its beautiful call once more.

Angel of Music,

Hide no longer!

Come to me strange Angel!

Nick quickly obeyed, as if the voice's dictation were directed at him, and followed its echoing call into one of the many corridors. He ran up the corridor's stairway and into the actual long corridor that connected to Judy's one way mirror. He ran as fast as he could, desperate to find the source of the voice as it grew louder the more he approached. He was on the right track.

For even as I sing here by my lonesome,

He heard the voice call much more softly, but still just as beautifully. He stopped, when he was close enough to see what appeared to be the semblance of a short gray, curvy figure in a purple dress, standing in the distance past the one way mirror with her back to it.

Nick slowly approached the figure. He had his confirmation now that the voice did not belong to his mother. But who was this? From what he knew, there were no gray furred rabbit does in the ballet troupe or among the theater's actresses or singers. So who was this? This angel that sang of an angel of music.

Whoever this heavenly siren was, all he knew was that he could no longer turn away. She had him snared in her trance. One of which he could not break free of, nor wished to free himself from. He continued to approach her, stepping closer and closer to her as she continued to sing…

I know that you'll come join me, very soon

I await eagerly your arrival,

Here by my side…

The mystery bunny turned to face the mirror once more as her voice escalated in another crescendo.

It was at that very moment where the Phantom fox, was at last truly able to lay eyes upon the source of the bewitching voice.

Angel of Music,

Guide and Guardian!

Grant to me your glory!

His emerald eyes widened and his jaw dropped the very second he laid eyes on her and heard that hauntingly devine voice escape her mouth. He felt his already racing heart increase its pace and he felt his cheeks burn red in a blush. His open mouth felt dry and his paws felt cold and clammy.

He couldn't look away from her. Everything about her called to him, despite her being a rabbit. Her lovely figure, her gentle facial features, her soft gray fur, those gorgeous long ears which draped behind her shoulders and made her look so feminine, her sparkling amethyst eyes which shone as bright as actual gemstones. And of course that heavenly voice…

He had seen many females before, both in and outside of the theater, but none had ever spellbound him as much as her. She was...the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.

Angel of Music,

Hide no longer!

Come to me strange Angel!

Judy gazed directly into the mirror. Though Nick knew that she could not see him through her end, the way she gazed in the mirror made him gasp and flinch. For a moment he thought that she had seen him as she looked directly to where his eyes were.

He breathed quietly on his end, hyperventilating out of sheer timidness. He held his breath, when she reached her paw forward and placed it on the mirror - over where Nick's chest and heart were.

I can feel you're with me even now

She sang lightly and softly.

Please don't delay,

I await the day,

Come soon to me, my mentor

And make melodies, once more with me

My Angel…

Nick blinked, his mind still in disbelief that such a beautiful creature could exist. He lifted a trembling paw, desperate to touch her face despite the mirror that stood between them. Before his paw could reach the glass, the door to Judy's room opened. Nick and Judy both turned to it.

It was Skye at the door. "Judy?"

"Oh! Hey Skye," she said somewhat embarrassed, hoping the vixen had not heard her.

"I-I came to get you," she said, somewhat awkwardly and as if she had more to say. The vixen stepped in and closed the door behind her, "I know this is none of my business, but...were you singing?"

Judy's ears blushed in embarrassment, "Wha-What makes you say that? Hehe," she chuckled bashfully.

"Well I thought I heard singing coming from your room when I was walking down the hall to come get you. Was that really you singing?"

Though hesitant, Judy answered honestly, "Y-Yeah, it was."

Skye ran up to her and grabbed her paws, "Judy!" she chirped with an enthusiastic and incredulous chuckle, "You sound amazing!"

As they spoke, Nick just watched them from behind the mirror and nodded in agreement to the vixen's comment as his eyes fell on Judy.

"No," Judy replied modestly, "That's not the best I can do. I haven't sung in a little over a month. I'm still kind of rusty."

Nick shrugged behind the mirror as if saying, 'maybe a little, yeah'. With his naturally gifted musical ear, he had to admit that he could hear some very minor areas where she could use some work. But even then, she was nowhere near bad. She was still well above average. With some proper training, he dared to believe that she might even be capable of surpassing his own mother in vocal skills.

"That's rusty?!" Skye scoffed in disbelief, "Judy that doesn't even come close. Gazelle's right, you really should consider auditioning for our next musical!"

Judy shook her head, "Maybe if I had more training, but for now I don't think that'd be a very good idea."

Skye sighed and grimaced in disappointment, but she understood Judy's true reasons for not wanting to sing as she saw the bunny silently glance over at the small portrait of her late father. "Well," said the vixen, "I guess it's like Gazelle said. Whatever makes you comfortable, right?"

Judy nodded.

"Come on," said Skye, changing the subject, "The rest of the girls set up this whole slumber party thing for you up in one of the attics."

"The attics?" Judy asked.

"Yeah, it's where our flyworkers sleep. I guess some of the girls wanted to be surrounded by males after today's scare."

"What scare?" Judy asked, as Nick flinched behind the mirror. Terrified of Skye revealing his haunting existence to the bunny.

"Uh...nothing. Just...uh...there was a really big bug in one of the girl's tutus and it scared her a lot. So, hey let's go. They're all eager to meet you Judy. Can't keep them waiting any longer," Skye said, pulling Judy out of the room with her.

"O-Okay," Judy said as she was practically dragged out of the room. They shut the door behind them, leaving the room all alone.

Not a sound was heard in the now empty room, save for one word that was whispered by the haunting voice of the fox Phantom in the mirror, "Judy…"

...

A/N:

Of course I wouldn't kill Nick off. That's not Phantom of the Opera ;)

What is Phantom of the Opera though, is that it seems our foxy Phantom is completely smitten by the musically gifted Judy.

I know that in the actual musical we start off knowing that the Phantom and Christine already know each other, but I wanted to start earlier from that point - when they first meet each other.

So yes, though this will be a pretty dark fic (as you were able to see from the Prologue), you can indeed expect fluff...and A LOT of it in the next chapter or two. ;3