I stood back away from the mirror, carefully inspecting my costume from every angle I could before deciding that it was perfect. Nobody and everybody would know who I was. They would all see me, and they would all try to ignore me. Yes, as the Red Death I was quite intimidating, even if I did say so myself.

I opened and closed my mouth, testing the way I'd fastened the bottom jaw of my new mask, which took the form of a skull. It moved fluidly, but it made me look almost like a puppet. I rather liked this feature. It made me seem less like an ordinary man and more like the phantom they perceived me to be.

Perhaps I was more monster than man. Perhaps there was something to their fear. But it was their own fault, making me this way. The men at the circus who would beat me into submission, the children who would laugh and point as I cried for help. Many of those children grew up and were now patrons of my opera house. They may not remember the poor, deformed creature they laughed at the circus, but Erik sure remembered them.

Erik never forgot a face. If he got a good look at a person, they were forever engrained in Erik's memory. Every show of kindness, every attempt at dominance- it was all etched forever in my mind.

I took the score for my opera- which I'd wrapped in the same red leather that made my pants and boots- and loaded it into my boat. If I was timing it right, I would arrive fashionably late to the party. I could have a quick word with Firman and Andre and then turn my full attention to the only one of them who truly deserved it.

There was a strange, unfamiliar fluttering in my chest when I thought of seeing Christine that night. It was not entirely unpleasant. Every part of me seemed to ache for her, I longed to see her, to touch her…

I shook my head, steeling my nerve. First, I had to strike fear into the hearts of a few men. I wondered absently if the viscomte would show. If he knew what was good for him, he would let Christine walk in peace. He had no claim on her, rightfully he never had. If Christine had a rightful owner, it was music. My music. And if she wanted to continue to be able to lose herself in my music, she would have to realize that I was her only option.

I would get her to love me.

I strode confidently up a long and winding staircase that would lead me to one of the countless false walls in the opera house. The one I was making my way to would bring me right to the top of the stairs, just behind where everyone would be gathered. Once my presence was known, all eyes would be drawn to me.

I paused just as I reached the false wall. Just beyond it, I could hear the light-hearted and joyous din of the crowd gathered to celebrate. I chuckled nervously as I straightened my hat one last time and steadied my hands, which had begun shaking harder than they had when last I'd seen Christine, when I'd had the audacity to touch her.

I took a deep, shaky breath and slid away the false wall so I could step out into the light.