He stared at the three interlopers with stark curiosity. The little Christine, the little angel… she had returned, to find him! Him, the monster. Him, the circus freak... the unloved devil's child who hid his horrible face behind a shield of pure white, a colour unfitting for those such as him. Could he dare… could he dare to hope? In her forward manner he could tell that her fear of him outweighed her desire to return… to return to find him! Maybe there was hope for a monster such as he, maybe there could, at last, be vindication!

That hope died inside of him when he caught sight of the blonde one's expression. She was, frankly, terrified. And rightly so. He was ugly, horrible, frightening. She had never seen such a creature as he in her entire lifetime, and he hoped for her sake she would never again. Her green eyes were dull with fear and panic, and her stocky legs wobbled slightly under their owner's suddenly dead weight. He could tell all the girl wanted was to faint dead away – that much was obvious from the grip she held on the little angel's hand and the shuddering of her chest as she breathed. His eyes studied her from head to toe. She was of heavier stock than her two companions – where the angel and her bold friend were willowy, she was more of an oak or maple. Her blonde hair was long, and was braided into one plait that hung down to her waist. She was the plainest of the three, that was for sure, but she possessed an innocence of spirit and caring eyes which made up for her lack of physical beauty. Of course she would be afraid of a monster – she was a sensible girl.

The other girl, however…. Her blue eyes were clear and aware – she studied and analyzed the world as it presented itself to her. She was muscular and wiry, probably due to years of dance, and her typical English features were offset by her short auburn hair – completely unfashionably short. It only reached a bit above her shoulders, and looked as if she hacked at it herself. She met his steely gaze with one of equal ferocity and brashness… despite everything, she harbored no fear for this mask, or the secrets it contained. This was little consolation, however – he doubted she would be afraid of anything. She could feel his eyes on her, he could tell. The look they reflected changed from one of ferocity to one of acquiescence, and a crystalline twinkle sparkled in her left eye. A grim smile blossomed inside of him – they were rather like two alpha wolves, sizing each other up before an attack, but instead of lunging, she had simply accepted him. This was a puzzlement, and Erik filled it away to ponder on at a later time.

"Hello." He answered the little Christine, arms still crossed. Her eyes reflected unreadable thoughts. Was she scared? Was she afraid, now, after risking so much to find him? Was she wondering if he was angry with her for invading his home, and bringing two strangers along?

There was a part of him, once, that would have murdered the three girls for something half as insolent as this. A spark of that personality still raged in a corner of his mind, railing against the prison it had been enclosed in, but he merely brushed it aside. There was no need for anger now. There was nothing inside him anymore. Not even anger could abide the hopeless void of his heart any longer.

"… how… how are you?" the angel-girl said awkwardly, looking at her toes. "… fancy a visit?"

"It appears as if the answer has already been chosen for me." Erik grumped, but there was an undercurrent of amusement in his tone. "What brings you to my solitary home, wet and apparently lost, much less with two ballet rats in tow?"

At his words, the blonde girl seemed to crumple into a puddle of sweat and fear and dirty ballet clothes. "Oh, ohohoh sir I'm so sorry we shouldn't be down here we didn't mean to interrupt anything we'll be leaving now pleasedon'teatus." This last sentence was spoken whilst nearly ripping the angel-girls arm from its socket.

"Don't be ridiculous Fran, he's not going to eat us." The short-haired one groused, while rolling her blue eyes. "Honestly, you're such a wet blanket."

"Am not." Fran said crossly.

"Are too." Added the angel, reclaiming her arm quickly. "Fran, relax. Have I led you wrong before?"

"You haven't had the time!" the blonde girl, apparently called Fran, wailed disconsolately.

The short-haired one rolled her eyes again. "she's 'opeless." Much to the surprise of all present, she stepped forward, and stuck her hand out towards the masked man a decidedly unladylike fashion. "'ello. I'm Eddy. Real name's Edith, but no'un except for Madame Giry 'alls me that."

Erik eyed her outstretched hand for a moment, reluctant to put his own leather-clad one in its light grasp. Be reasonable his mind growled, angry at his unwillingness. She is a little girl. A brash one, maybe, but harmless still. She is no threat to you. Edith's blue eyes pierced his own, seeing his reluctance to accept her handshake but leaving her hand there doggedly in spite of it all. Brash and stubborn. Reaching one shaky hand towards her smaller peach-coloured one, he took her hand lightly.

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Edith. I am known as… as… Angel." Eddy shook his black-gloved hand vigorously, a fleeting grin of triumph on her expressive face.

Fran still cowered in a corner near the entrance back to the surface… to her dressing room. That perfect corner of his mind, normally so quiet, exploded with that thought, but the void quickly subdued it. She was still completely terrified, even though she had seen the entire exchange between Edith and himself. He couldn't possibly hurt her. The tendency for violence had completely gone, along with so much else of him. He held out a hand to her, shaking ever so slightly.

"Do not be afraid of me. I cannot hurt you. I am but an old, grey-haired man… there is nothing to fear from the likes of me."

Inside his head, his old voice chuckled darkly. There was everything to fear from him – or there once had been.

The fearful blonde girl, tears shining the corners of her eyes, didn't move a single muscle.

"Fran… its okay." The angel-girl said, reassuringly. Her eyes shone with a warm and endearing light, trying to coax the frightened girl to accept that the stranger would do her no evil. If only she knew the truth, what he was capable of… or had been capable of.

What had happened to the Phantom of the Opera?

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Dany eyed Fran with a mixture of pity and irritation. "Come on, Fran. He's not going to bite you. Eddy didn't even bother him for God's sake, and she wears on the best of tempers."

"I resent that…" Eddy grumbled, and tossed her head.

"Oh hush Eds." Fran shot back, trembling with fear. "Now is not the time for your shenani—"

"GIRLS!"

All three of the girls froze at the sound of their ballet mistress' voice. It was, quite possibly, the last noise they had expected to hear.

"Frances. Edith. All of you. Upstairs this instant." Madame Giry's eyes snapped with a wicked fire never seen previously, even during the worst of ballet practices. She grabbed Fran tightly, her fingers digging into her arm, showing no intent of relinquishing her grasp.

"Madame." The girls said meekly, and filed behind their ballet mistress as she unceremoniously dragged Fran up the stairs they had traveled down only moments before. Only Danielle noticed the absence of the masked man from the cavern they were leaving so quickly behind.

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Meg was fuming. Absolutely fuming. How could the girls have found the mirror? It seemed unthinkable. How could they do something so foolish? She had seen them next to the gondola, the horrible black boat that almost bore her best friend away from her forever… but in the end, death had done that, hadn't it? Shaking that train of thought from her mind, she turned towards the girls.

"How… what in heaven's…. what were you doing down there." She said breathlessly, voice cold as ice and eyes even colder.

They were nearing the end of the passage; Danielle could see the light through the double-sided glass that served as a mirror. "We were exploring, Madame Giry." Her voice was as even as she could make it, under the circumstances. She was dreadfully scared, but determined to show no fear before the livid mistress.

"Exploring the sewers, hidden behind glass mirrors? What, Danielle, what ever possessed you to open a mirror, or, goodness, to even be in the wing to begin with! It's been off-limits since the fire; you could have been killed falling through a rotting patch of floor! Do you girls realize what could have happened to you?" some of the anger had left her tone, but she maintained her stranglehold on Fran's arm. It seemed to Danielle that there was more fear than anger behind her words now.

"I didn't mean to discover the mirror, Madame… I leaned against it, and it shifted behind my weight. It was a simple matter to pry it open from there, and… well… being curious… but Madame, the odd thing was, I could have sworn Id been through their before, only going the opposite way, the way we just came… does that make sense, Madame? I mean, how silly, a memory of a place Id never seen before…" Danielle stopped, mid-babble, when she saw her teacher's face blanch.

"Go to your room, all of you. Don't let me see you for the rest of tonight. You may not dance with the girls tomorrow, is that clear? You will not leave your room for the duration of that time. Am I making myself understandable?"

The three girls shied away in fear, nodding frantically to the mistress before running at full-speed through the open door and down the dusty hallway.

Madame Giry, bent with the weight of her fears and the toll the years had taken on her body, sat on the chair that had once belonged to her dearest friend. Running a hand over her sweaty brow, she smoothed a few grey hairs back against her head.

"If that stagehand hadn't seen them go down this way… She knows the way to his home on the lake…. Somehow, she knows the way… perhaps she wasn't as asleep as Erik thought… forget knowing the way, she knows him… she's seen him… and willingly, she seeks him out. It's beginning again. I won't let it consume her as it consumed her mother. The Angel of Music is dead."

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authors note: I apologize once again for the wait. My job overshecduled me these last two weeks in a row... (I said a max of 15 hours/week, apparently 15 hours means 21 to them... LOL) and my granddad flew in from out of state, so Ive been doing pretty much everything BUT writing. but, this is done! and its up. which is exciting. I decided to split the chapter into two, because this was getting much too long. And the second half isnt completed yet, but since I got my schedule sorted out I should be able to write alot more. As always, reviews warm my very soul. and I dont own any of the cannon POTO charecters, even though I may wish to dearly.