Disclaimer: The Boufard family is mine, so is the dude who tried to kill Erik and Madeline's kidnappers. Other than that, it's all someone else's.

Hi all. Chapter 11 is up already! It feels like I started this fanfic yesterday, and before I know it what's happening it will be over! Wow, that was creepy. It sounded like it was my child. I guess all my stories (there is a surprising number of them), are like my children, as completely demented as that sounds.

Unfortunately, this may be the last chapter that will be posted for a couple of weeks. I'll be away from the 3rd till the 14th, but I'll update if I can before I leave. If I don't post again for a few days after I return, no worries. I have a really busy summer ahead, but I will post every time I can. I made this chapter extra-long just for you!

Oh yeah by the way as of this chapter the rating will be bumped up from a K+ to T. I feel this necessary because things will be implied. Very "mature themes" will be suggested. I'm not going to write a sex scene, if that's what your thinking, but stuff that may offend some people/is not appropriate for younger kids will be brought up.

Well, you're all probably dying to know what happens next. READ AND REVIEW PLEASE! Last time I updated with only two reviews. I expect to come home to some, please!

Chapter 11: Alliances forged

They had rushed to the police station immediately. They explained in great detail what had happened and answered all the questions the police asked. Henri was getting very frustrated. He wanted them to go on a search. He wanted them to find his daughter and bring her home safely. He could see Genevieve was holding back tears as she told an officer what she had seen. He tried to comfort her, but he only succeeded in upsetting her more, though she tried not to show it. He had bent down mechanically and hugged her. "Everything will be alright, Genevieve. There's no need to cry." It was hard to believe. As he had done this, his face had been stony, and he had just yelled "I DON'T GIVE A DAMN ABOUT YOUR BLOODY REGULATIONS!" at the chief. His currently monotone voice had not helped the situation any. She had just nodded and whispered. "I know, Papa."

After about an hour a group of police officers had gone out to search the building they had been in when Madeline was abducted. Henri had stood, watching them walk down the street and disappear around the corner. He made his way over to one of the chairs in the lobby and sat next to Genevieve. He thought about what had happened that morning. And now that he had time to think about it, it really sunk in. Madeline had been kidnapped. Just before the search party had gone out, the chief had said "I'm afraid pretty young girls are often victims of such crimes. We may be too late already." Henri realized what the kidnappers might do now that they had her. He was terrified for Madeline. There were so many stories like this; the body would be found in the bottom of a river, so mangled it was near impossible to identify, the criminals long disappeared.

Henri was scared. If anything were to happen . . .

Madeline had been the spitting image of her mother.

She was now with a bunch of mad rouges who undoubtedly had plans for their own pleasure. She had been safe one moment, then was being attacked the next.

The thought of Madeline's fear made Henri unfathomably regretful. Why hadn't he fought harder? He knew he had been pulling as hard as he could have at the time, but he should have been stronger. He should have been watching her. It was his fault, all his fault.

Sadness overcame him, so he buried his face in his hands and wept. He sat there in the lobby of the middle-class police station for an hour and let the tears run freely across his skin.

After a long time he felt a hand on his arm. He looked up to see Genevieve sitting there. Her eyes were shining with sorrow. "Papa," she said quietly. "Papa, do you mind if I cry with you?"

"Pardon?" he asked in a hoarse voice.

"You told me that there wasn't a need for me to cry . . . but I really think I need to. Please? I promise I won't again if you just let me now." Henri smiled. Slowly, he began feeling like his old self again.

"Genny, you may cry with me whenever you wish. You needn't ask."

With that, she leaned into him and buried her face in his bloody shirt and cried. He sobbed along with her until both of them had run out of tears. They sat silently with each other. Simply being in the presence of someone who felt the exact same way as themselves was very comforting.

Finally, around seven o'clock in the evening, the investigators returned. One of them went to Henri.

"Sir, I understand it was your daughter who disappeared?"

"Yes." Henri stood up. "Yes, it was my daughter." The officer showed Henri into his office and the two sat down at his desk.

"I'm afraid that we found no clues to the whereabouts of the girl." Henri's heart sank. The other man continued. "We searched the old shop. The walls behind the paintings were extra thick to accommodate special tunnels that were each large enough to hold a person. This operation was planned, and planned well. We learned that that building has been empty for many years. It was built a very long time ago. The tunnels are part of the original design."

"So that means that place was practically built for kidnap!"

The police officer shrugged. "It is quite a mystery, that old shop. We have no other record of any crimes taking place in that place. But, we did discover that someone had been in the upstairs apartment recently." Henri straightened up, hopeful. "It would appear that someone had disturbed the layer of dust up there a few days back. It's as if the crime plan has been considered for a while, but it was only a matter of finding a location to put it all to work. The only way, though, for anyone to possibly know where you were and set the plan into action was if you were being watched."

A chill ran down Henri's spine. Someone had been watching his family! Suddenly he felt uneasy. The idea of having a stalker disturbed him greatly. "Is there any chance of Madeline being found?"

The officer sighed. "I'm afraid we may not find her, monsieur. The policeman who brought you here made the mistake of not immediately going after the criminals. We will try, but if no clues are found soon, we may as well be to move Paris more to the East. I'm sorry. Perhaps it would be best if you go home and get some rest. We'll contact you as soon as we get any information."

Henri thanked him with a blank expression on his face and left the building with Genevieve. The February evening was getting dark fast. The two walked home without exchanging a single word. As soon as they reached their apartment they went to bed without eating supper.

---

That had been Tuesday. The search was called off on Saturday.

"Who was that at the door, Papa?" Genevieve asked.

"The police." Her father said without expression. "They've ended the search."

"Oh."

"They didn't find anything. She's gone. They searched the entire district without finding any clues." Henri sat down at the table with his daughter, staring blankly at the wood.

"They must not be very good police, then."

Henri looked up, surprised by Genevieve's statement. She didn't look distraught over the news. "What do you mean?"

"What if someone outside of the district kidnapped her?"

"Genny, don't be ridiculous. A rapist is not going to travel across the city to find a girl. Whoever kidnapped Madeline was probably some aroused madman whose been wandering up and down our street for months."

"Erik doesn't live here."

Henri stared at the little girl. It was not because what she said was farfetched, but because he had never thought about it before. Erik was the perfect suspect! He was already a criminal, he knew where their house was, he had disappeared mysteriously, and he had a gigantic opera house he could use as a hide out. It had only been his natural sympathy that had prevented him from reporting Erik to the authorities already. Without wasting another minute, he raced to get his jacket.

"Genevieve, get your coat. You're going to spend the day at Carol's house."

"Why?"

"Because I need to go somewhere and I'm not leaving you home alone." Henri grabbed a large knife from the counter and hid it in his jacket.

"I want to come with you!"

Her father ran to her and put his hands on her shoulders. "No, Genevieve. This is too dangerous. I'm not going to lose you, too." Before she could protest, he led her down the stairs and into the street. They reached her friend's house and knocked on the door. A kind-looking woman answered the door.

"Good morning, Henri. What brings you here so early?" the woman knew about Madeline. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Lily, I'm sorry to interrupt anything, but I have to do an important errand right now. I was hoping you could take care of Genevieve today while I am out."

"Oh, that's alright. Carol just finished her breakfast. Don't worry about a thing. We'd be happy to take care of Genevieve for as long as you need."

"Thank you. Sorry about the short notice, but this is urgent." he knelt down and hugged his daughter.

"Papa, please be careful."

"Don't worry about me, Genny. I'll be back soon." He kissed her forehead and stood up.

"Good luck." Lily said. She had no idea where he was going, but she assumed it had something to do with his missing daughter. Henri nodded and began the walk to the opera house.

After two blocks his chest started to hurt. He was beginning to wish he had let Genevieve look after him. For the past few days, he had barely done anything with the child. He had spent a large portion of his time down in his shop. If he kept focused on one thing (in this case, making and fixing shoes) he could keep his thoughts from wandering to Madeline and the terrible fate she was sure to face. The whole week, he had only talked to people when it was necessary.

Henri also noticed that it was a strangely cold morning. He hadn't brought gloves or a hat. At first he trudged on and tried not to think about the bitter whether. After a moment he realized that if he ran he wouldn't feel so cold and he could get to the opera house quicker . . . and possibly see Madeline again. He started a brisk jog and soon was running through the streets like someone was going to kidnap him, too.

A few minutes later, he was standing at a small door on the edge of the opera house. The door was small, used by the staff when they traveled in and out during the day. Henri looked around. Nobody was in sight. The man grabbed the handle and jiggled it. It was locked. He became frantic, He took a step back and slammed his shoulder into the wood. The cut of his shoulder burned. He ignored it and threw his weight at the door again. This time it gave. He stumbled into the dark space beyond and collapsed in a heap on the floor. He lay down and rested for a minute. He took large gulps of air until he finally caught his breath.

When Henri felt he could continue, he pulled himself up and looked around. He couldn't see a thing. It was pitch black inside the huge building. His breathing was still irregular. He put a hand on his chest and felt warm blood trickling between his fingers. Oh, not now! He thought. He was not bleeding very much at all, so he decided it was safe to move on. He took a few steps forward with his hands outstretched and felt something soft brush his arm. He clung to it and discovered it was a curtain. He was just behind the stage. He walked alongside the curtain until it stopped. He wandered about blindly for a minute or two before he discovered a staircase. He climbed it carefully until he came to a door. He opened in and stepped inside the room.

Henri still couldn't see a thing, but he could tell that the room had once been a dressing room because it smelt of roses even after more than a week of disuse. Who ever had used it last had probably fled the opera house with stopping to collect their things. He walked forward until he banged his knee on something hard. He hissed out a curse and began to feel his way around. Soon his fingers touched something smooth and cool. It felt like glass. A mirror. Henri thought. Nothing important. The man decided to take a quick break so he sat down and leaned against the cold pane. At this point, I'm never going to find anything. I should have brought –

Suddenly the mirror slid under his weight and he fell through. He lay there, stunned, for a brief second before straightening up to look around. He was in a long hallway that ended with another flight of stairs. Candelabras lit the way down.

Happy to be able to see again, Henri set off. I must be getting close to Erik's home. He took the knife from his jacket and held it at the ready. He didn't want to fight anyone, but he knew that if Madeline was being kept in the building he was going to have to.

He stood by the wall when he reached the stairs and held on to keep his balance. The stone was damp and slippery. He took one step forward carefully.

Suddenly the step fell away and he felt himself plunging deeper into the darkness. A small cry escaped his lips just before he hit more hard stone.

He lay there for a second, completely winded, afraid to move or think. Slowly he sat up. He didn't felt any new pain. That fact gave Henri new confidence. He stood up and looked around. There was light, but he couldn't see where it was coming from. Something caught his eye. There was a man standing directly in front of him. He couldn't see any of his features, the light was too dim. He raised his knife and prepared to attack if he had to. The other man didn't move. Henri took a step back but he saw movement in the corner of his eye. He wheeled around. Another man stood right behind him. He saw something else and turned to see another shadowy figure. Henri soon realized that he was completely surrounded. He tried not to panic. He had expected he may have to battle one, maybe two people . . . but he couldn't defeat eight! He stood perfectly still, trying to think of something to do. The men remain still and silent as well. They all stood in the same place for a long time until Henri took the tiniest step forward. All the others shifted as well, but no one made any move to attack.

The lighting conditions changed suddenly It was brighter, but still difficult to see the other men's features. Then he caught a glimpse of someone behind the shadowy figures. It looked like Madeline. Henri lunged forward yelling her name, and it felt like the whole room was moving away from him and he hit something hard. He picked himself up again, and on the edge of his line of sight he saw Genevieve. "Genny!" he cried in surprise "I told you this was too dangerous! Go back to Carol's house!" He turned around, but she was gone, the dark figures moved with him. Henri started to sweat, partially because of stress but also because the room seemed to be getting hotter. Then, right behind one of the dark people he saw who he at first believed was Madeline, but slowly it became clear who it truly was.

"Opale . . . " he muttered in disbelief. His voice echoed in the small chamber. He stared at his wife and she stared back. He ran forward but she disappeared. He ran round the room, trying to find her again. She wasn't anywhere. He screamed her name, but she didn't reappear. All the while the temperature rose. He became frantic. Sometimes he caught sight of one of his daughters and would run to her, but she would be gone when he reached for her.

Then Erik stood over him. "You!" shouted Henri "Where are they?" he leaped forward, but his strength had been spent, and he felt sick before he collapsed into sobs. They were gone. His family was gone.

---

Someone was shaking Erik. He grumbled and sat up in bed. Mme. Giry was standing over him, looking very concerned. She had been coming for a few hours every day to help him cook, clean, and change his bandages. His arm was healing very slowly. He was at risk of catching a fever now and the fact he needed so much sleep was putting him in a foul mood.

"Erik, I'm sorry I had to wake you, but I need to ask you something. I arrived about a quarter of an hour ago. Roughly five minutes after I arrived I started hearing this constant ringing. I let it alone, but it hasn't stopped yet. I haven't been down here in years, so I've no idea what it means. I was worried it's an alarm warning about intruders."

Erik sat still for a moment. He could hear a bell chiming over and over again. He realized what it was and rushed out of bed. Mme. Giry followed him out of the room and into a tunnel. He ran down the corridor until he came to a heavy-looking door. He unlocked it quickly and yanked it open.

A man fell out and started grabbing at the hem of Erik's trousers. He was shaking badly and muttering something about "them" before breaking down into hysterical sobs. Erik looked down at the pathetic sight and spoke calmly.

"Good Morning, Henri. I did not expect to see you again. This is indeed quite a surprise." Erik bent down and scooped the up the babbling man from the floor. He walked back to his home and sat him in a chair at the kitchen table. Antoinette stared at the quivering man.

"Will he be alright?"

"Perhaps." Erik said as he started to boil a pot of water on the stove. "He hasn't killed himself, so he'll probably recover. I think he's set a record now, for the longest amount of time spent in the torture camber. Around ten minutes. That's very impressive." He was stirring something into the warm water.

"He's got blood all down his front."

"Does he? I never had a proper look. His jacket was in the way." Erik poured the liquid into a mug and walked over to Henri. The shaken man tried to push him away. Erik reached out to still him but Henri slapped at his hand.

"Where are they?" he demanded. His voice was hoarse and rough, nothing like Erik remembered it. "You have them! Let me see them! Where are you keeping them?" Henri bent over and vomited. When he was done, Erik spoke.

"Here, drink this." When Henri resisted, Erik managed to restrain him. He poured the contents of the mug down Henri's throat. He could see now that Henri was bleeding. His shirt was blood-stained. "Henri, what have you done now?" he murmured.

When the mug was empty, Erik went to put it away as Mme. Giry fetched a towel to clean the mess on the floor. Henri sat there, looking rather dazed, slowly coming to his senses. The other man took a seat across the table.

"M. Boufard, I must ask you, what brings you here to the abandoned opera?"

"Madeline was kidnapped." He said bluntly.

The phantom blinked in surprise. "When was she taken?"

"Last Tuesday. The police ended the search earlier this morning. They didn't find her."

"Where did you last see her?"

Henri told him the whole story, and Erik listened intently. Antoinette returned briefly to clean up, then left the room. At the end of the tale, Erik sat in deep thought for a long time.

"So you suspected me?" he asked finally.

"Oui."

Erik sighed. "I'm afraid that I know nothing of her whereabouts. I was being quite sincere in my note to you when I said that I wished to make no more contact with your family."

"I'm going to find her." The father said, determined. "But I can't do it alone."

"I suppose I could be of assistance to your plan."

"You will help me then?"

"I don't see why I can't. I am in your debt."

Henri leaned back in his chair, relieved by the thought of having help in his task. He closed his eyes and let himself relax. There was still a chance that his daughter would be found. He had barely gotten any sleep for the past few days, and the events of the morning were starting to take their toll on him. Happy, he let himself drift into sleep.