I'm sure you all know the spiel by now, I don't own Phantom, fic takes place in about 20 years into the future, blah blah blah, REVIEW…

Lenore opened her eyes, panic flooding her. She was dead, she had seen her body. Wait a minute. I'm in a sunlit room. In a huge comfy bed. In my sky blue satin pajamas…What if it had all been some weird dream? Maybe she'd passed out from nerves at her audition and dreamed the whole thing.

She slid out of bed, putting her feet in her fuzzy black slippers and heading out of the room. There was her father, sitting on the couch and reading an ancient classic novel. Another one of those memories came to mind. Hiroshi, sitting in Erik's chair before the fireplace. He scared her…she didn't know what to expect from him at all. And the way he treated her like some kind of domesticated animal was disturbing.

He wasn't her father…no, he was…wasn't…was…wasn't…

"Oh, kitten, you're awake," Hiroshi said, looking up from his book. "I was worried about you. You've been out for two days."

He's concerned about me, so he must be my father. But then what about that other memory? Where are these memories coming from? Maybe I have a dual personality and she's made up a whole different history for herself that has her afraid of him.

Before she could reply, a door opened to her left. "Has she awoken yet?" Erik asked worriedly, coming out into the living room.

"Erik!" she cried, pure delight filling her. She threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around him. He'd keep her safe from Hiroshi. Erik wouldn't let that monster touch her, he'd-

No, Hiroshi was her father; she didn't need to be afraid of him. Mad at him, yes. Afraid, no. He had betrothed her to Erik, tried to keep her from escaping, and had caused her that horrible pain. She should be delivering a tongue-lashing he'd never forget.

He's not my father! He's Jack the bloody Ripper! As long as I stay close to Erik, I'll be fine. No, I don't like Erik, I was betrothed against my will, and my father is not Jack the Ripper. Yes, he is!

Lenore let go of Erik and put her hands on her head. Where was this other person coming from? Why had this other girl been planting false memories over the past few days? Why had she started actually conversing with Lenore now? Hoping to retain some of her sanity, Lenore concentrated on who she was.

I am Lenore Aithne Wolfe, age twenty one, Harvard graduate, with a father who loves me very much. I am Lenore Aithne Wolfe. I'm not you, whoever you are. I'm Lenore Aithne Wolfe, age twenty one, Harvard graduate, with a father who…wait, what about Mom? Ember? My brothers, John and Mark?

I'm Lenore Serenity Parker, age twenty one, high school graduate, with a family who loves me loads, even if they suffocate me all the time. Dad picks on me all the time, and Mom tries to run my life. Mark got married almost three years ago to Ember's friend Tori, and I caught the bouquet at their wedding. John's almost always letting me have my way; I can talk him into anything. And Ember's the one I can almost be myself around. I mean, it wasn't always so great at home, but it's gotten better since the accident. I used to be ignored, because my grades weren't as great as John's had been when he was in school, and I didn't behave as well as Mark did. Ember and I were never fussed over at all, except to tell us how much of a disappointment we were. But after the accident, Mom always tried to make me out to be the best of her children. I hated it when she told me not to buy an Opera House…The Opera House…Erik…Erik is the man I love, the one I want to spend the rest of my life with.

Stop it! That's not true! None of it! I don't have siblings, I don't have a mother! I don't love Erik, I don't want to spend my life with him! Maybe I could learn to, in time, but not yet!

It is true! I have three siblings, and an overbearing mom! I love Erik with every part of myself, and I will spend the rest of my life with him!

Lenore dropped to the floor, clutching her head desperately. "Father, help me," she sobbed. "Mom? Ember? Anybody? Somebody…don't let her take over. Miss Nancy, please help me, you have to! …John, can't you do something? …Father, tell her to stop! …Mark? Tori? Please! You can't just leave me here, you have to help me, you have to! …Miss Nancy, tell her to be quiet. I promise I'll be good if you make her stop talking."

Erik stared at her, sitting on the floor, holding onto her skull as if it could help her maintain sanity. Lenore Wolfe would call to someone, then Lenore Parker would cry out. Somehow, his Lenore had found her way back and was now fighting for control. Well, asking someone to help her gain it was probably the more appropriate way to put it.

"Erik? Erik, where are you? Please don't let her keep us apart, Erik, I want to be with you! …No, I don't want you, Erik. I hate you! I don't want to marry you! Leave me alone, I don't need you! …Erik? Please? …Miss Nancy, you're still sane. You're not crazy like Father. You can make her be quiet, Miss Nancy, I know you can. I promise I won't ever shave the cat again, or run off by myself! …Erik …Miss Nancy why won't you help me? Why? …Erik …I need someone to help me …Erik …no …Erik …no," Lenore argued with herself. "Please, Erik, help …help me. Someone. Help me, please. Please! Help me, help me, I don't want to go mad. Erik, help me! Maybe if you tell her to be quiet, she'll listen."

Erik dropped down beside her and took the girl into his arms. How can I tell the one I want back to leave Lenore Wolfe alone? Yet I can't tell Lenore Wolfe to just give up her life and let Lenore Parker take over either.

"I'm dead," Lenore Parker wailed with Lenore Wolfe's voice. "Oh my God, I'm dead. And this is Hell, isn't it? Being trapped inside someone who won't let me out, being this close to you and knowing I can't control what happens. But I chose Second Life, I…this is all his fault, all his fault! Why did you tell me not to be afraid of him? …Stop it! Just stop it! This is my life, my body! You're not part of it, you never were! Don't touch me, Erik, you don't have to touch me to shut her up!"

"I don't want her to be silenced," Erik admitted honestly.

"You can't help her!" Lenore protested, fear evident in her eyes as she began to squirm in his embrace. "Don't help her, this isn't her life! …I knew I could count on you, Erik. Now make her leave us in peace."

"I can't do that either," Erik confessed. It wouldn't be fair to tell Lenore Wolfe to give up living. "You must decide between the two of you how this will be handled."

"I won't have her pretty little memories of the two of you, she's trying to make me love you so that she can get out! I won't stand for it! …Well, I don't want your memories of Jack the Ripper as a loving father, you're just trying to keep a hold on a past that you wouldn't have had if it wasn't for me!"

Erik looked to Hiroshi; maybe he'd have some helpful advice or something. Hiroshi had laid his book aside and was munching on some small candies while watching the scenario in complete fascination. Why did I ever think he'd be any help?

"Share," Erik suggested. "Share the body, accept each other's memories."

"I don't want to share with her!" both personalities said at once.

"Hiroshi, perhaps you could offer some assistance instead of gawking," Erik said, shooting the man a dark glare.

"I'm not gawking. I'm observing and taking mental notes, Satan will be delighted to hear that someone's remembered their First Life," Hiroshi replied.

"Indeed, Conner, that's splendid news," a dark, chilling voice commented from behind Erik. "I must say, Keeran, of all the pets the immortals have ever owned, yours is the most intriguing."

The figure the voice belonged to was a woman, with rather large breasts and shoulder-length chocolate brown hair, wearing a cream tank top and a black skirt that barely covered anything. Black stiletto heels added height to the imposing figure. Satan never looked the same twice in the mortal realm. Violet eyes were locked on to Lenore's trembling form in Erik's arms.

"Master, you look quite lovely today," Hiroshi remarked. "Perhaps, if you're not too busy"-

"I didn't come here from seducing the Pope to have sex with you, Conner," Satan informed him. "No, I came to see Lenore. How much of your First Life do you remember, little one?"

Lenore absolutely refused to say a word. Of course, Erik didn't blame her. Mortals had an instinctive fear of Satan, and having him standing there in the flesh would paralyze any righteous mortal with pure terror.

"Don't be afraid, I haven't come to collect your soul or anything of that nature," Satan said soothingly. "Keeran, let go of her." Reluctantly, Erik released her, though she tried desperately to cling to him. As soon as she was freed of his embrace, Satan took her in his arms, gently stroking her hair. "Now, tell me how much you remember. This information is vital to my business."

"Don't want to talk to you," she finally muttered, trembling in his arms. "Go away or…or I'll start quoting scripture."

"Darling, if you'll tell me what I want to know, I'll give you anything you want," Satan tempted, taking her over to the couch. "You know, I've got a few people in Heaven who can see to it that you're guaranteed entry, if you like. Or you can have immortality. Would you like that? To stop aging right now, and never have to die? Do you want money? Power? Love? Whatever it is, I'll give it to you." There was a brief pause. "Maybe you'd like Erik on a leash, hm? That's easily arranged. It's a win-win situation, little one. I get what I want, you get what you want."

Erik winced at the idea of being given to her. Was Satan so eager for this information that he'd give one of the immortals to a human like a pet? Unfortunately it would seem he is. Erik couldn't even begin to describe how much he would loathe being at Lenore's beck and call for the rest of eternity. God would condemn her to Hell if she treated an immortal with less than human decency, which would certainly allow her to keep him throughout the ages. And Satan would see to it that I was the most loyal of pets for her too. Anything for his precious information.

"I want her out of my head," Lenore said softly. Then her tone changed to that of Lenore Parker. "I agree with her. But you'd better give me a new body or something, cuz I'm not just gonna drift off into oblivion!"

"Well, I don't have bodies just lying around…" Satan replied.

"Erik's got my body, he's kept it in tact," she pointed out.

"Yes, well, resurrection is a heavenly thing, I'm not really into that sort of miracle stuff," Satan explained. "Conception in sin is more my thing."

"That's fine, I'll start this whole thing over again. God knows someone fucked it all up," she retorted, glaring at Hiroshi for a brief moment.

"Oh, pardon me for giving you a beautiful body and a great education," Hiroshi said in his defense. "And I'm sure you couldn't possibly forgive me for taking you back to Erik."

"It doesn't really matter anyway; Third Life doesn't exist," Satan informed her.

"So you lied when you said you'd give me anything I want. …Of course, he lied, he's the Prince of Darkness. What a book this would make! Though people would probably think I'm mentally unstable, claiming to have had a conversation with the Devil, who was a woman."

"Why aren't I called the King of Darkness?" Satan mumbled. "Always prince, never king. Is it too much to ask that my position be recognized as kingly?"

"What about time travel, do you do that?" Lenore snapped, wanting the attention to remain focused on her problems.

"Well, that depends upon your definition of the word," Satan replied casually, examining his fingernails. "Oh, shit! Look, this one's a millimeter shorter than all the others."

"Time travel is a phrase, not a word. And I want this new Lenore out of my head, then you put me back in time before Erik met Christine," Lenore demanded.

"She didn't mean that," Erik replied instantly.

"New Lenore gone and back in time before Erik met Christine in exchange for answering my questions about remembering First Life. Do we have an accord?" Satan inquired, holding out his hand with perfectly manicured nails.

"I think Lenore would like to be a bit more specific," Erik hissed. Good God, the woman was making a deal with the devil and not even thinking about how she phrased things. Back in time before Erik met Christine could be any period of time before then, even so far back as before Christ was born. Not to mention Satan had specifically told her that time travel had more then one definition. He could place Lenore in any form of life he chose. She might be granted human form for being so generous to give the devil information, but she might not. She could be a fish, a cat, an insect, a flower, anything!

"Kitten, maybe you should think about who you're making a deal with. Didn't you learn anything in Harvard?" Hiroshi added.

"Conner, be quiet, she doesn't need your help," Satan reprimanded. "Honestly, what gives you the gall to ruin a deal between your master and a mortal?"

"Master wouldn't give me a fuck today," Hiroshi replied.

"You're all so vulgar," Michael commented as he climbed out of the fireplace. God always chose the strangest entrances. Michael straightened his red tunic, thankful that God always kept dust, soot, and other such stains from tainting the fabric. Saved time, really, not having to brush off soot. Running a hand quickly through his golden curls (his hair looked so much better when tousled), he looked at the girl with his sparkling blue eyes. Lenore gave a fearful squeak and covered her eyes.

"I must say, Lucifer, you'll looking exceptionally pretty today," Michael observed.

"Fuck off," Satan replied.

"Now is that any way to speak to an archangel?"

"I don't give a shit what your religious standing is," Satan snapped.

"Don't make me cut out your tongue with my flaming sword," Michael threatened. "It'd be too much bother for both of us."

"Then why don't you spread those pretty white wings of yours and buzz off? I'm busy at the moment, I don't have time to waste bickering with an inferior."

"I'm here on business," Michael returned, walking over to the couch and sitting down on Lenore's other side.

Lenore gave a high-pitched whimper, curling up and making herself as small as possible.

"Darling, just ignore him, alright?" Satan coaxed. "We were having a lovely conversation before he came along, weren't we?"

"Sounded vulgar and ugly, if you ask me," Michael remarked.

"Well she didn't, so keep your mouth shut," Satan snarled. "Now, darling, would you like something to eat? You haven't had anything for two days, I'm sure you're starving."

Lenore nodded her head, eyeing the archangel and the devil warily.

"Let's not overwhelm your stomach on the first meal. How about a pomegranate and a glass of apple juice?" Satan proposed, the items suggested appearing in his hands.

"Nonsense!" Michael said. "Everyone knows pancakes with maple syrup and orange juice are the logical choice for breakfast!" A plate of pancakes covered in the delicious syrup appeared in one of his hands, and a glass of orange juice in the other.

Lenore looked back and forth between the two men sitting on the couch. She seemed unsure of which meal to accept. Finally, she grabbed the apple juice from Satan and the pancakes from Michael. "If I eat the holy pancakes, I'll cancel out the evils of the demon apple juice, right?" she asked.

"No, the demonistic qualities of the juice shall prevail," Satan proclaimed.

"Actually, the sacred qualities of the pancakes will cancel out the evils of the juice, but the juice also cancels out the purity of the pancakes. Balancing between the two like that is similar to just eating regular food," Michael replied honestly.

"I need a fork," she mumbled. Two forks were presented immediately, and Lenore trembled, not sure which fork to take.

It was a tense moment. Lenore would reach for one fork, stop, then reach for the other, stop, and turn back to the first one. It was an endless cycle. Come on, girl, take the heavenly fork, you know you want to! Start denying Lucifer with something simple like a fork, it will build your confidence so you can refuse any further proposals.

That immortal, Erik, came around the couch and offered the girl a fork, and she stared at it as if it were a snake. "I got it from the kitchenette, so unless Hiroshi's learned how to curse the forks, there's nothing to fear from it," Erik informed her.

Lenore looked at Mephistopheles, then at Michael. "Um, I like his fork best," she said tentatively, taking the fork Erik offered. "It's, um…prettiest. It's not all covered in elaborate designs like yours. It's plain and simple. Very nice."

"Well, don't just sit there and stare, kitten. Eat your pancakes before they get cold," Hiroshi instructed.

"Yes, Father…Ripper." The last word was muttered bitterly, the old Lenore refusing to let herself call Hiroshi 'father'.

As soon as Lenore had a bite in her mouth, Lucifer began. "So, now that you've got something to eat, maybe we should get some decent clothes on you. Can't have you sitting around demons and archangels in pajamas, after all."

A tight, skimpy blood red dress appeared in place of her pajamas and Lenore dropped her fork in shock. There was a distinct sigh from Erik, who went to the kitchen to retrieve another fork when the one on the floor disappeared and Michael and Satan offered her fresh forks. Swallowing, she licked remnants of syrup from her lips, then screamed when her dress changed to a very modest garment in white.

Erik gave her the new fork while her outfit kept switching back and forth, then disappeared into one of the bedrooms, returning moments later with a pair of black slacks and a white dress shirt. Reaching over the back of the couch, he disrupted the outfit quarrel by ripping off the garment she had on (the red skimpy dress at the time).

Shrieking like a banshee, Lenore attempted to cover her breasts. "It's nothing we haven't all seen before, I assure you," Erik told her sharply. "Here, put these on." He handed her the clothes and Lenore frantically tugged the shirt on, buttoning every last button before concerning herself with the pants.

"You wouldn't be helping this religious winged nut, would you, Erik?" Satan snapped angrily.

"If he is, perhaps God will grant him redemption," Michael mused. Probably not, but it was worth suggesting if the immortal was going to help Michael.

"I'm not looking for redemption, I'm merely trying to make comfortable a mortal who's frightened out of her wits by the clash of the forces of good and evil," Erik sighed.

"There is no clash," both men responded at once.

"I'm rather disappointed I've not yet found occasion to draw my fiery sword," Michael added.

"Bloody archangel," Lucifer muttered. "Always looking for a fight."

"Don't worry, master, we outnumber him," Hiroshi interjected.

"True. Rather foolish of Michael to come all by his lonesome. But that's not what we're here to discuss, is it, darling?" Satan said, turning his attentions back to the girl who was dressed and halfway through her pancakes. "Now, just tell me what you want."

"Don't tell him anything, pumpkin, he won't keep his word anyway," Michael pointed out.

"Would you like the Wal-Mart industry?"

"You'd offer her the top source of your soul income?"

"Anything she wants."

"Oh, can you make her a saint then? Can you appoint her to your former position in Heaven?"

The bickering continued, becoming more and more aggressive each moment. Just as Michael was about to leap up and challenge the demonic creature, Lenore scrambled over the back of the couch and flung herself behind Erik.

"Now look what you've done, Lucifer! You scared the poor thing," Michael shouted.

"I scared her? I'm not the one who climbed out of the fireplace with sissy white wings and kept talking about drawing a flaming sword!" Satan argued.

Erik certainly didn't expect Michael and Lucifer to get along, but this was absolutely ridiculous. Lenore was scared so badly that the new part of her didn't care that it was Erik she was using for her protection. Sighing and shaking his head, he took her hand and led her out of the hotel suite while the two angels shouted threats and taunts at one another, Hiroshi watching closely to determine the exact moment he should leap in to come to Satan's aid, should Satan need it.

Lenore stared back over her shoulder. "Was I just in a room with the Devil and the Archangel Michael?" she gasped.

"Yes, you were," Erik answered. "You've certainly caught God's attention now."

"I have to write all that down, it'll be perfect for my book," she muttered, searching her pockets for pen and paper but coming up with nothing. "I don't suppose you"-

"No," Erik replied.

"Do you think God would let me have Lucifer's old position? Not that I want to die again, but it'd be kinda cool to be in charge of the cherubim."

"You just love to be in control, don't you?" Erik chuckled.

"Hell yeah," Lenore said. It was his Lenore, for the moment at least.

"I'm surprised you didn't jump at the offer to have me on a leash," he commented, a slight grimace crossing his features.

"It was a very tempting offer," Lenore remarked. "But I remembered how much I disliked being thought of as an object. Kinda puts it in a new light when you're on the receiving end of such treatment, now doesn't it?"

"You're a regular little saint," Erik said.

"Lenore Parker, patron saint of immortals' freedom," Lenore replied with a smile. "We are not a saint! Do you realize what such blasphemy could do? Honestly, get a hold of yourself, Parker!" It seemed the new Lenore was back.

"I have a feeling this is going to be a difficult next few weeks," Erik mumbled to himself.

It was hard to be two people at once. Lenore hated it. Sometimes she was her old self, flirting with Erik and being common as you please, and then moments later she was her new self, distant and cold to Erik, and proper as a Queen. Lenore fought with herself as they rode in the cab back to the Opera House, trying to get one side to win over the other.

"Wait, we're going in the front door?" Lenore inquired, her old self shocked that Erik would risk being seen entering the building.

"We need to see the managers for a moment," Erik explained, pulling her along behind him with ease.

He pushed open the door without knocking (how very rude!) and sat down in front of their desks, causing Rosalyn and Ember to look up.

"Erik!" they both exclaimed, not used to seeing him in their office except to pick up his salary and discuss casting.

"Good God, you guys are old," Lenore commented.

"Lenore? Do…do you remember?" Ember breathed.

"No, I'm just gonna come waltzing in and tell two women I work for that they're old," Lenore replied sarcastically. "Parker! They're our managers, that was very rude. I apologize for her behavior."

"She's…half and half," Erik informed the two women. "I believe as soon as she accepts the memories of her old life, the two will blend together. Hopefully only the positive attributes to both sides will remain."

"You're not very polite at all!" Lenore snapped. "Yeah, I didn't appreciate that either, Erik. If you don't apologize for that right now, I'll never let you fuck me again."

"I have no need to apologize to Lenore Parker, because she only possesses positive qualities. And I find that there's no real need to apologize to Lenore Wolfe either, as she is to be my wife and cannot stop me from exercising my rights with her body as a husband," Erik said smoothly.

"Aww, you're so sweet, I'm sorry I yelled at you," Lenore apologized. "You call that sweet? He's basically saying that he'll perform legalized rape on me, and you apologize for yelling at him? Parker, you're severely unstable."

"As I'm sure you can see, Lenore's really not in any condition to perform," Erik addressed Ember and Rosalyn. "Also, you'll be receiving some guests rather shortly. Hiroshi, Satan, and Michael will be dropping by to see if they can't find her. Tell them I am not accepting any visitors at this point in time, please."

"Wait a second. Who's coming by?" Rosalyn inquired.

"Hiroshi, Satan, and the archangel Michael."

"Hiroshi as in Jack the Ripper?"

"Correct."

"Satan as in demonic, lives-in-hell, steals-peoples'-souls, Satan?"

"Correct again."

"The archangel Michael as in the one that cast Lucifer out of Heaven?"

"Really, Rosalyn, you're so very intelligent."

"You know, this managing an Opera House thing gets weirder every year," Ember muttered.

"At least it's never dull," Rosalyn said with a shrug.

"Could I borrow that pen, please?" Lenore suddenly inquired, several sheets of unused paper that she had neglected to ask for in her hands.

"Chérie, I have parchment and ink at home, you don't need to steal it from them," Erik sighed.

"I'm not writing my book on parchment with a quill pen and inkpot, thank you," Lenore retorted.

"I own fountain pens," Erik informed her tersely.

"You mean you're young enough to know what a fountain pen is?" Lenore quipped. "Now who's being rude, Wolfe? He's your elder, shouldn't you show proper respect?"

"Could you maybe not do that?" Ember said. "It's a bit nerve-racking."

"We should be going as it is. I suggest you continue to leave Mademoiselle Moreau in the position of the diva until Lenore is feeling better," Erik said, standing up and leading Lenore over to the wall.

"Cuz I'm just feeling so ill," she retorted. "More appropriately, I'm feeling like a mentally unstable woman in severe need of a psychiatrist. Then why don't you talk to Sebastian, hm? Who? Sebastian Rousseau, he'll do a good job of fucking up your mind."

"Good day, Ember, Rosalyn," Erik said, shoving Lenore into the darkness through a hidden door. "Remember, no visitors, please."

"I think they've both lost it," Rosalyn commented moments later. "Satan? Michael? I mean, that's a bit overboard."

The door swung open to admit Hiroshi and a woman with large breasts and chocolate brown shoulder-length hair dressed in a cream tank top, black mini skirt, and black stiletto heels. Violet eyes glared at the man holding her by the arm, who was wearing an Armani suit. His curly blonde hair was slightly mussed, and his blue eyes sparkled in an otherworldly sort of way.

"Let go Michael, or I'll smite you where you stand!" the woman hissed.

"Honestly, Lucifer, a gentleman always escorts a lady. What would people think if I walked with you, yet didn't hold your arm companionably?"

"They'd think you're a normal twenty-first century man," Hiroshi said. "You know, Michael, for an archangel, you're quite an eyeful. Perhaps if you have a few minutes, we could"-

"No!" Michael and Lucifer snapped at the same moment.

"Erik doesn't want any visitors today," Ember informed the odd trio.

"Well, that's the end of that then. Let go of me now, Michael."

"Only if you swear on your immortality that you won't go near the girl again unless I accompany you, and you won't go back to seducing the Pope," Michael said sternly.

"Don't you have better things to do than pry into my business?" Lucifer snarled. After a moment of silence, Satan spoke again. "Alright, I won't go back to seducing the Pope."

"And the girl?"

"I can't make any promises regarding that, she's one of the Circle's pets," Lucifer said loftily.

"I suppose it was a bit much to hope you'd leave the girl alone," Michael sighed. "You can't blame me for trying though."

"Of course I can."

"That would be a lie."

"Yes, and I'm the father of lies, so what's your point?"

"It seems cupcake has left me alone in her room for the time being," Hiroshi observed. "Perhaps all you wonderful, beautiful readers out there could convince her to remove the duct tape and stop giving me morphine when you review. Surely you all don't wish to see me mistreated in such a fashion, hm? Just a few simple reviews from you readers and she'd set me free, I'm sure of it."