A/N: I figured that everyone has waited enough and deserves two chapters. This one is LONGER!!!! (HOOT!).

Please review.

NEWS: I am rewriting the first two or three chapters because I realized that they kind of suck.

Thanks to my beta Anne as always. Without her I wouldn't be writing this anymore. Thanks!

ENJOY

Chapter 12

"What do you want from me?!" Mollia tried to tear her arm from the masked stranger in front of her, anger tearing through her words. Hot tears of molten fire raced down her burning cheeks. She pulled harder but the man was too strong. His hand was wrapped tight around her arm, and its coldness was the same as the opera's marble steps on a mid-winter morning.

He yanked Mollia hard, causing her to crash into his chest, her face inches from his own. His body gave off an arctic cloud that spread through the warm room like a deadly fog. His glacial breath chilled her bones, and then he spoke. Everything that his aura froze shattered when his dark voice shook the air.

"You know very well what I want, mon ange. I want what is rightfully mine and was taken away from me." He paused to breathe his raw breath into her ear. "You are mine!"

The harsh whisper shocked her, but not nearly as much as his kiss. His lips covered hers roughly, and instantly ice spread throughout her body. Mollia felt her finger go numb, more so than the rest of her body and she tore away from the man. Upon her left ring finger sat a plain silver band. She watched in fear as it glimmered in the small light that the candle provided.

Instantly Mollia tried to tear it from her hand, but like the man's hand, the ring was frozen around her finger. She felt the man wrap his arms around her and laugh. It was a horrid, requiem-like laugh that symbolized what he believed to be a victory. She felt her mind darken and the scene fade as a frozen kiss was placed upon her neck.

~oOo~

Mollia shot up into Erik's arms, crying into his shoulder.

"You were tossing like a madwoman and sobbing. Are you all right, mon amour?" Mollia shivered in his arms and sat there until Erik whispered into her ear. "Mollia! You are so frigid. What is wrong? My God! Even your lips are blue."

Erik slipped next to her, holding her against his chest and pulling the blankets over them. He was uncomfortable, though, and Mollia could tell he was trying not to show her how tense he was.

Mollia laid her left hand on top of Erik's and leaned in to kiss him. Suddenly she pulled back, the covers flying off them. Erik had felt what ever it was, as well, for his whole body shook in pain and shock. Before he could say one word, Mollia pulled her left hand into the light and shrieked when she saw what was occupying it.

"Oh, my God! It was a dream! It was a dream!" On Mollia's left ring finger was the silver band from her dream. She tried to pull it off, but it would not budge. Erik took her left hand in his and cradled it, and they both ignored the terrible stinging that it caused.

"What happened? In the dream, what happened?!" Erik sounded like he was going into hysterics.

"Earlier, when I said that I had seen a ghost, I wasn't joking. He was dressed like you and was standing in the shadows. He wore a crimson mask that covered his whole face. In his right hand he held a bloody red rose, and in his left he was holding this silver band." She emphasized by wiggling her finger. "Then I had this dream. In it he told me that he was there to claim what was rightfully his, he kissed me and slipped the ring on my finger. He was cold... so arctic…The ring seemed frozen to my very soul! Get it off! Get it off!" Mollia began tearing at her finger, cutting the skin around the ring.

"Mollia, stop! Stop, Mollia! You are hurting yourself!" Erik wrapped his arms around Mollia, who began to sobbing into his chest. The stinging had become normal to them already. Mollia saw her finger and gasped, and Erik looked down.

The once silver ring had absorbed some of the blood, and now on the once-blank, silver band was Mollia's full name with little roses surrounding it. The roses were ugly to Mollia--crimson roses with death and pain etched into each curve. Erik sighed and wrapped her hand in his.

"There is nothing that we can do tonight. Tomorrow, when you are at rehearsal, I will scope out every inch of this opera house and find the bastard that did this to you." Erik paused and winced simultaneously with Mollia as the pain seemed to intensify. "You are going to have to come up with an explanation for the ring, but under no circumstances are you to tell anyone about what is happening. Not a word, understood Mollia?" Mollia nodded and then propped her head on his chest.

"It can be a chastity or a promise ring from my Mother. I know it seems odd that I would be wearing it now, but I can say that I made the promise that if I were to be in the presence of a man for more than two consecutive days, then I will wear it to ward him off. The managers also think that you are not a proper gentleman," Mollia couldn't bring herself to say what the managers really thought, "So they will understand if I am wearing it now. I will tell them that I want to make everyone aware that I will keep my innocence until the night of my marriage."

Erik smiled and kissed Mollia, but he doubled over, holding his stomach. Then Mollia screamed in pain. If she could imagine what getting hit by lightning was like, then she imagined that it would be the pain that she was feeling now. Her body went rigid on the bed as the pain intensified again and Erik crawled towards her.

"Mollia, I am so sorry! I never intended for this to happen. I should have left you alone!" Erik didn't touch her for the rest of the night, fearing that he would cause her pain.

(A/N: I just wanted to take a small break to let everyone gather their heads and all of the information in this last bit. To clarify if needed. Yes the dream in a way really did happen and yes things will be explained as to who this crimson phantom is and how he relates to Mollia in the next few chapters. Phew… This is sure to be a fun trip.

Enjoy)

~oOo~

Messieurs,

I have written this in order to inform you that I have some demands that must be met, and if they are not, your opera house will go up in flames once again in a lovely show of fireworks.

Tomorrow's rehearsal shall commence in the following way:

You shall convince Mademoiselle Daee that she must stay later than the scheduled rehearsal in order to work on her acting.

Monsieur le Fantome will be taken care of, so do not worry your tiny brains.

At precisely six o'clock in the evening, while Mademoiselle Daee in onstage going over her scene, the lights in the entire house will be extinguished. See to this.

Five minutes later the lights shall come back on.

Mademoiselle Daee will then be gone and you will return to your office, telling anyone who asks that it was le Fantome and it was her time to return to him.

You are aware of what is to come if these demands are not met.

~ Crimson Phantom~

One of the managers folded up the note and slipped it into his breast pocket while looking towards his partner.

"What did we do to deserve another menacing phantom sneaking around our opera house? Why do they always insist on having our leading sopranos?!" His partner sighed and continued to tap his pen on the desk at a steady pace.

"I will not give in to his demands. We will not give in! We know nothing about this new phantom!" They both agreed then and there that the new phantom would get nothing.

~oOo~

"Le Fantome will be taken care of, indeed!" The crimson masked and cloaked figure blended in with the shadows. All that stood out was two glowing maroon eyes that menacingly peered down at the sleeping form of Mollia Daee. His cold hand brushed her cheek, and he smirked as she tried to turn away but was unable to. "The ring is already working, mon ange. Soon you will have to heed to my every command."

Mollia's eyes snapped open. Why does my face feel frozen? She sat up, searching the dark shadows that loomed around the small haven of her bed. Seeing nothing, she began to stand, wondering where Erik was.

"Mon ange," The voice was nothing but a harsh whisper in her ear, but it was enough to make her freeze on the bed. She found her voice quickly.

"What do you want with me? Who are you?" She yelled fiercely, hoping to drive whoever was lurking there into the truth-seeking light, but the voice spoke from the shadows yet again.

"All of your questions shall be answered shortly, and soon you shall be mine! Stand up, Mollia Daee, and face your future!" His command angered her, and she refused, until her body began moving by itself.

She fought hard, hating the feeling of being a puppet on strings. Again another command came from the shadows. "Step forward!" His voice was sly, and when her body complied, Mollia began to allow her tears to fall. Then the frozen hand took her left, and she ice shot up her arm. It was then that she realized she could do only one more thing until she knew he would not relent: beg.

"Please monsieur--I will do anything for you. Just, please! Let me go. What did I do to make you hate me so? Please…" Her dropped head pressed into a cold chest gently, and she felt an icy hand upon her head.

"I would never in a million years hate you, my beloved. I hate your father. You were supposed to be mine, but he backed out at the last second. Stupid, stupid man. You see, he is the reason why I am forced to do this." She felt ice upon her forehead, realizing at the last seconds that they were lips, and then everything faded away and she was falling into an endless pit of darkness.

~oOo~

"My poor child, what has happened to you?" The voice of an extremely concerned father brought Mollia around, and she couldn't brave opening her eyes to face the light.

"Papa? What are you doing here? You are ill and are in no condition for travel. You should not be here!" His laugh brought her eyes open, facing the painful sting of the lights.

She gasped at the creature before her, a mere ghost of what her father used to be. His face was gaunt and pale like a skull, and his eyes were a faded green, like the tint of a sick person's skin. His body shivered, and he seemed to have trouble keeping his head up.

"Papa! You need to go home now! I am fine. I just fell asleep on the way up here and Erik laid me down, not wanting to wake me." Raoul patted his daughter's head. He strained to form his words, almost as if using his voice took too much energy.

"I was here before you arrived, sweet heart. It seems there is a new phantom and he wants you!" Her father's face paled imaginably so and she thought that he would fall out of his wheel chair.

"I have come to confront this ridiculous person." He sighed and leaned back, allowing Mollia a moment to go back to her encounter. She remembered the crimson phantom's words. "I hate your Father. He is the reason behind why I am forced to do this." Mollia shivered and sat up quickly, worry apparent in her blazing eyes.

"Father, you must not confront this man! He will kill you!" She cried out and clutched to her Father's leg like she did as a child. This caught Raoul's attention and his voice quivered.

"Mollia, have you already been contacted by this phantom? Has he done anything to you?" Mollia nodded, letting a few tiny tears slide down her cheeks. "He told me," she paused, taking a deep breath, knowing she was about to break her promise to Erik. "He told me that I was rightfully his and that he hates you. He said that you backed out and you are the reason why he must do this to me." Her father passed out then, in his wheel chair, and Mollia panicked.

"Papa?!" She cried out for help and was glad when Madame Giry rushed through the door, a worried expression twisting her stern face. She took one look at Raoul and wheeled him to the foyer, a nervous Mollia following behind.

The ambulance came a half-hour later and Mollia was ushered onto the stage.

"There is nothing that you can do for him by worrying, child. The doctors will take good care of him. He would want you to sing." This is what Mollia did. She sang, but her mind was not focused on mere singing. She couldn't get her thoughts away from her father's reaction to what the mysterious Phantom said to her. It was five when the managers strolled in and Mollia stood waiting for Erik.

"Mademoiselle Daee! I have a note from your phantom. We informed him that you were to stay until seven tonight to work on your acting, and he will get you after that.

"All right, Messieurs. What will I need to start with?" She worked diligently, hoping to please Erik with her hard work, but oddly, she felt emptiness in the pit of her stomach. Something was not right.

~oOo~

Erik pulled out his sword, a beautiful, hand-made piece of artwork, and prepared to face his imposter. He only received a menacing laugh.

"So you are the Fantome de Nouveaux! I am glad that I have found you. Now I can get rid of you once and for all, and I shall not have to worry about the pain that you are causing Mollia and myself!" Erik did not wait for a response as he lunged at the new phantom, forgetting all logic and allowing boiling anger to overcome him. Because of this, he did not notice the cage above him, and when it came crashing down, it was too late. The Phantom of the Opera had been captured in one of his very own traps.

"You must have forgotten about this beauty. You built it a long time ago. I hope you enjoy your stay here, for it will be long and lonely. How do you like being back in a cage? It suits you quite well; you should never have left the circus, Erik. At least they fed you." Erik listened to the man's evil laugh as it faded away. Tears threatened to streak down his mask as he looked for a way out.

"Mollia, my love, my light, I am truly sorry."