Lady Taevyn: …get caught up, will you?

Lethia: Gee, how I wish I had a review for chapter 50. Hopefully that hint wasn't too subtle…

Der Drache Dame: Okay, needing reviews for chapters 49 and 50 now. I suppose I could let it slide if you post more prequel…

Sabriel: Yes, the boy finally has a name! But we won't see him in this chapter. I was going to have a bit with him at the end, but that would make it too long.

Black Hole Phoenix: Yes, Ember has to sit at the Opera House watching Lenore's kids while Lenore has all the fun onstage…if you can call it fun…

MJ MOD: No, Achaius isn't one of the Riders of the Apocalypse. That was a damn good thought though…wish I'd thought of it…

Anonymous#13: Write a sequel to this? God, that could drive me nuts…and keep me very busy. Sorry the last chapter seemed slow. I needed to get some plot enhancing done, such as Rosalyn retiring, Turner dying, and Lenore taking the diva position.

Adusiriel: Glad I made your night. Hope you like this chapter.

The ness-ness: Well new reader number 1, your penname scares me, lol. The friend that I based Christi off of is named Vanessa. I know, you're not her, but…that name has scary memories attached to it for me and ness-ness makes me think of Vanessa. But don't let that stop you from reviewing. I'll be alright. No, you can't have Gershom. He's mine. I'm very possessive of my immortals. Dunno why. As to what's going to happen at the Opera House, read on. The boy is Achaius, and that's all I'm telling anyone at present. He won't do anything to the twins…at least, not in the way you mean.

Wings of Glory: Hello new reader number 2! Glad to have you onboard. Don't be scared that you can see a lot of yourself in Lenore. It's good that you can relate to the character, because that means I'm doing a good job. (I mean, I'd really suck if no one could relate to my main character, right?) I am delighted to hear that Hell and the immortals (particularly Hiroshi and Raghnall) amuse you.

Hpt4Gerry: Greetings new reader number 3!! I'm sorry you find parts of it weird and you're not sure whether or not you like the weird stuff. I'm a weird person, so weird stories come out of my head and into Microsoft word. Anyways, I'm so pleased that you find Erik to be a little evil!

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

Justin Evans sat in the highest box at the back of the house, staring at the young woman his cousin William had contacted within hours of learning about Turner's death. He wasn't sure why they needed this particular woman; there were enough chorus girls who could have managed to take over the role of diva. True, none of those girls were as good as Turner had been, but it would've been easier to replace Turner with a girl who was already employed at the Opera House rather than to hire another one.

"Trust me, Justin, you won't be sorry," William whispered. "Lenore Dessler has a bit of a history with Opera."

"I've never heard of her," Justin commented with a touch of bitterness. Not only were they hiring another cast member, but the "Ghost" had left them a rather nasty little note detailing what disasters might befall them if they didn't find a replacement for Dessler as soon as possible.

"Oh, I think you have. Her maiden name is Wolfe," William replied.

"THE Lenore Wolfe? The one who disappeared about a year ago?" Justin inquired incredulously. Lenore Wolfe's extremely brief Opera career was legendary; no one in living memory could have a voice as sweet and perfect as hers, it was said.

"It seems she disappeared because she had to plan her wedding," William explained.

Justin bit his lip as he tried to recall a wealthy family by the name of Dessler, but all he drew was a blank. "I don't think I've ever heard of a Dessler before," he muttered under his breath. It was actually quite an oddity; no affluent father such as Wolfe's would allow her to marry someone below her station.

At that point, Dessler began singing. Just a few notes were all that Justin needed to know that she'd perform flawlessly. Hell, she'd probably rehearse flawlessly as well. It would be a horrible shame, perhaps even a crime, to have to replace her. Of course, if they could get rid of their unfriendly poltergeist, they wouldn't have to replace her at all.

If Lenore hadn't expressly forbidden it, Erik would've strangled those two blasted fools who called themselves the managers. They sat in their little box, contriving pathetic plots to get rid of him so that they could keep Lenore as the diva. And Erik, standing in the wall right behind William Steele, was having a considerably difficult time of restraining his hands from sliding open the panel, reaching through, and ending Steele's annoying existence. In fact, if he hadn't been able to hear Lenore's voice echoing out from the stage, the two managers would have been dead the first moment they mentioned ridding themselves of Erik's presence.

Damn her. If I didn't know any better, I'd say she planned this. As if she were testing me, giving me every reason to eradicate these half-wits. They have already exhausted my patience. Were it not for her presence here, the Opera House would be in need of new management.

Knowing he would be unable to resist the temptation should he stay much longer, Erik slipped off through the walls to listen to the chorus members standing in the wings. They always managed to entertain him, as he seemed to be their favorite topic of discussion.

"…disappearing in the middle of the night to plan your wedding? It's just a little too suspicious, that's all," one of the girls was saying to a group of about ten other girls in the corps de ballet.

"Maybe…" a second girl mused thoughtfully.

"Maybe what, Sarah?" the first prompted.

"Well…maybe she married the Phantom," Sarah suggested.

A collective gasp of disbelief and shock issued from the ballet girls. Erik, on the other hand, smirked. Sarah was entirely correct, and it pleased him to know that at least one of these silly girls thought it possible that a woman might decide to share her life with the dreaded Phantom of the Opera.

"That's ridiculous," the first said dismissively. "I mean, come on. The Phantom hides below the Opera House for a reason, Sarah. And it's certainly not for his health. Did you ever read the novel? He's supposed to be seriously ugly. No nose, eyes sunken into his skull, skin a nasty yellow, skeleton-thin frame; not the kind of man a girl marries."

How utterly ignorant of the girl. Clearly she only remembered the description from Leroux's novel as was given by Joseph Buquet. And while it was true that Buquet had glimpsed Erik, the encounter had been so brief that Buquet had chosen to fabricate a few elements of the tale to make it more interesting. Erik did not dispute that he lacked a nose, nor that his eyes were sunken into his skull, not even that he'd been as thin as a skeleton. But his skin had never been yellow.

"Shh! Don't call him ugly, Claudia," Sarah hissed, glancing around fearfully. "What if he hears you?"

"What if he does? I'm only telling the truth," Claudia snapped back. "And if he doesn't think it's true, then he should just show himself and prove me wrong." There was a brief pause as the ballet girls held their breath, waiting for the Phantom to materialize and deliver his wrath upon Claudia. "Like I was saying, Lenore couldn't possibly have married him."

"But she's wearing a wedding ring, and she has those two babies," Sarah argued. "You insist that she was kidnapped by the Phantom. And if that's the case, then clearly she married him and had his children."

"Not necessarily," Claudia contradicted. "He could have raped her and gotten her pregnant. In the meantime, Turner took over as the diva, and he's finally gotten annoyed with Turner. So he removed her from the scene, replacing her with his precious Lenore. But Lenore can't possibly leave the babies alone under the Opera House, so she had to bring them up with her. And naturally, she wouldn't want anyone to know she'd been raped and her children were bastards. Think of the shame! So she put a ring on her left hand and gave a different last name."

"Or Lenore fell in love with the Ghost and married him," Sarah muttered, crossing her arms and scowling at Claudia.

"If she married him, it was only because he forced her to," Claudia replied.

A smile of pleasure crossed Erik's face. It seemed he had found the first victim for his plans to get the management back under his control. And when I've accomplished that, I'll see to it that Sarah is promoted to leader of a row.

Lenore was relieved to get a few minutes of rest during the rehearsal when the ballet girls had to polish a dance number. She stood in the wings, thinking to herself that rehearsals surely hadn't been this tiring before. Then again, she had children to suck the energy out of her nowadays.

Just as she was about to turn her back on the stage to go check up on the twins, a sand bag crashed to the floor near one of the dancers. Lenore's eyes narrowed as the incident was investigated. As she expected, no one had been near the rope connected to that particular sand bag, and no explanation for its sudden plummet could be found.

"Erik," she mumbled under her breath. A certain Opera Ghost was in for quite an earful when next she saw him.

"I told you!" a second girl snapped at the one who had almost perished. "You just had to go and insult the Ghost, and now he's going to take it out on all of us. It's all your fault, Claudia!"

"It was purely an accident," one of the crew members called down.

"Accident my ass," Lenore said loud enough for everyone to hear. She walked out onto the stage, looking at the girl named Claudia. "You insulted the Phantom, Claudia? What exactly did you say?"

"Nothing," Claudia mumbled, looking warily up at the catwalks, as if she expected another sand bag to target her.

"She said he was ugly," one of the chorus members squeaked, glancing around fearfully.

"And how would you know, Claudia? Have you ever seen him?" Lenore challenged. "Don't think I haven't heard all the rumors about my disappearance. It just so happens that I did manage to catch a glimpse of the Opera Ghost. That's why I ran off. I could tell that he was searching for the next Christine. And I didn't want to be the one he chose."

Sure, she was lying. But they didn't know that. The corps de ballet stood around her with their mouths hanging open, clutching whoever was closest as if they feared Erik was about to snatch up a girl and whisk her off into the dark underground.

"That's why I got married as quick as I could," Lenore continued. "I knew I wouldn't be safe from him until I had a ring on my left hand. Though I guess I'm not really safe at all. If the Phantom should decide that one of you has the potential to surpass me…well, let's just say that it didn't end well for Carlotta."

At that moment, the managers reached the stage.

"Are you alright, mademoiselle?" Monsieur Evans asked Claudia.

"It was the Opera Ghost!" one of the girls screeched.

"He's looking for another Christine," a chorus member chimed in.

"He'll kill us all!"

The terrified screams and pointless repetitions of "he'll kill us all" began, and Lenore had some difficulty suppressing a little smile. Unbeknownst to the cast, she was their insurance that Erik would keep his pranks from becoming lethal. Of course, if these new managers would just pay his salary, the cast and crew wouldn't even have to worry about it.

"Surely," Lenore said very loudly to get the attention of the cast and crew, forcing them to be quiet to hear her words, "the management is making every effort to accommodate him for our safety."

"Madam Dessler, there's no reason to give in to this man's demands," Steele informed her tersely. "That's all it is. Some man, trying to scare us into thinking he's a ghost so that we'll do what he asks to keep you all from harm. Don't worry, Madam Dessler. We'll catch him and put a stop to this."

"Oh, whatever you say," Lenore scoffed. "If it is a man, don't you think he's rather old? I mean, Madams O'Malley and Johannson humored him for twenty years or so. Don't you think they would've been able to expose a simple man during all those years? Besides, even if it is a man, it's better to simply give him what he wants, isn't it? Under the previous management, there was only ever one incident. The murder of that man, Felix Deville. But under your management, we've had Turner's suicide, and now this little attack on poor Claudia, all within twenty four hours. Makes one wonder what's next."

Ember sighed tiredly. She was certain she'd heard the sound of a crash from the stage. If she hadn't been stuck in the diva's suite with the twins, she would've gone to see who Erik's victim had been. Strangely enough, both infants had giggled at the sound of the crash. Erik's children through and through, it would seem.

A few minutes later, Lenore stormed into the room. "He's so dead when we get home," she hissed angrily.

"So who was the victim?" Ember inquired.

"Some chorus girl named Claudia. Apparently she called him ugly."

"And what accident befell her?"

"A sandbag hit the floor next to her," Lenore said dismissively. "But he knows better than this. If it had hit her, it could've killed her. And I specifically told him no murders."

"So, he dropped a sandbag near her because she called him ugly?" Ember sighed.

"Because she insists that I raped Lenore or forced her into marriage. And because I need the management to come to terms with my existence," Erik's voice echoed out of the wall.

"Concerning Claudia, learn to tolerate the vicious rumors people like to spread. Concerning the management, find other ways to bully them into doing your bidding," Lenore grumbled.

"But this method is so much fun. It also happens to be more effective," Erik informed her.

"Oh, then I suppose you'll be targeting me at some point," Lenore sighed.

"Never," Erik hissed.

"You'll have to," Lenore argued. "Think of how suspicious it will look. Targeting everyone except the diva, who happens to be consistently telling the managers to humor you."

"She's got a point, Erik," Ember commented. "So either target her as well, or find another persuasive technique." Without a doubt, Lenore and Erik had to be the most dysfunctional couple in history. A few simple words or actions could start rather intensive arguments. Having lived with the two of them for almost a month to help with her niece and nephew, she'd seen it many times, and tried to play the peacemaker whenever they got into their squabbles. Sometimes it worked, and sometimes the fight only ended when one decided to submit to the other.

"I'll not attack my wife," Erik snarled.

"Then you'll stop attacking everyone else," Lenore said firmly.

"I will not. I will handle these moronic managers as I have handled all of the other idiots who refused to do as I asked."

"Bloody man."

"Damn wench."

"What spectacular examples you two are setting for your children," Ember remarked.

"Madam Dessler, you can't mean that," Justin gasped.

"But I do," Lenore replied carelessly.

"Take a percentage out of each day's wages to pay this alleged Opera Ghost?" Justin said incredulously.

"Yes," Lenore sighed. "That's exactly what I want you to do. And if you won't reserve Box 5 for him, then I'll buy it for every performance. Simply take the price of the box out of my wages."

"Do you have any idea what you're asking?"

"I thought I made it quite clear what I was asking," Lenore retorted.

"If I agree to these insane requests, you'll be receiving an extremely small sum for your services," Justin tried to reason with her. "Additionally, there's no need to go to such lengths for him, whoever he is. The man must simply come to terms with the fact that he can't trick us."

Lenore was thankful that Steele wasn't present. Steele was the manipulative of the two; Justin Evans was far too stupid to play mental games with her. She also had the distinct impression that Evans was beginning to believe that Erik truly was a ghost,no matter how much he claimed otherwise. He should be easy prey for Lenore.

"I'd like to remind you that my income is no concern to me; I'm married to a very wealthy man, I assure you," Lenore said tersely. "No, I'm more concerned with the Ghost. Yes, the Ghost, who is not a man. Not in the sense you mean the word. The Ghost is male, I won't argue that. But I've seen him, Evans. It was the night of my second performance in Carmen. The night I left. I realized shortly after midnight that I had lost an earring somewhere backstage. After the performance was over, I changed and went to dinner. I assumed I'd left the earring on the vanity in my dressing room, but it wasn't there, so I had to have lost it somewhere between backstage and the diva's suite, you see. So"-

"What were you doing looking for a silly little earring in the middle of the night?" Justin interrupted. "It could've waited till morning."

"No, it couldn't, because the earring belonged to my late mother, and those earrings are the only things I have to remember her by," Lenore lied. "Anyway, I was looking for my earring backstage, and I'm sure you know how it is at night. So dark, you can't see your hand in front of your face. So I took a little flashlight with me.

"I'd been searching only a few minutes when I got the distinct feeling that I was being watched. I turned to look behind me, but nothing was there. I glanced up into the catwalks, and that's where I found him. A black shade with golden blazing eyes, staring at me. Of course, I didn't realize at first. I thought it was a stage hand, just having a laugh. So I asked him to come down.

"He simply walked through the railing, off the catwalk, and into empty air. And that's when I knew it was the Opera Ghost. He descended slowly, and I couldn't tear my eyes away, couldn't move, as if I'd been paralyzed. He landed feet in front of me, the shape of a man in a black cloak with a wide brimmed black hat. There were no feet beneath the cloak, which hovered an inch off the ground. No head that the hat rested on. Just two yellow eyes burning beneath the brim. Almost seven feet tall, he loomed over me.

"After staring into my eyes for a few minutes, he floated towards me. The stench of death filled my nostrils, and the cold of the grave surrounded me. I heard a voice whispering in my ears a list of all the sins I'd ever committed, of all the secrets I hid. He stopped only a few inches from me. The earring I was searching for appeared in the air between us. I took it, thanking him for finding it, thinking him to be friendly.

"A cold draft that felt like hand brushed against my cheek. He spoke, one simple word delivered in a whisper that echoed out into the empty house: Christine. The Phantom wanted me, saw Christine in me somehow. I felt slimy, dead hands all over my body, some ripping at my clothes, others trying to drag me down through the stage floor as if I were as insubstantial as the Ghost before me. Holding onto my flashlight for dear life, I tried to scream. But one of those horrible hands wrapped around my throat and I couldn't make a sound.

"I couldn't scream for help, couldn't stop those hands from touching me. Fear consumed me, and thank god it did. My fear broke his hypnotic spell and I found I could move again. I ran for my suite, grabbed some clothes, tossed them in a bag, and fled for my life."

Justin sat behind his desk, his eyes wide and his mouth half open, terror written all over his face.

Oh, this is priceless. I can't believe he thinks I'm telling the truth. "As you can see, the Opera Ghost isn't someone you want to cross," Lenore stated. "It's why I'm more than willing to take a pay cut, provided the money goes towards pacifying the spirit that haunts this place."

"Madam…Madam, you must get out of here as quickly as you can," Justin whispered. "Before he comes for you again."

"I'll be fine," Lenore said confidently. "Christine wasn't married; this ring keeps me safe from him mistaking me for his beloved chorus girl." She paused for a moment. "My concern is for the other girls. The feeling of those hands on me…no one should have to suffer that, no one should have to be as afraid as I was."

Tonight's performance of Puccini's La bohème was going to make Justin and William the talk of Paris. Justin knew it; Lenore Dessler's mysterious reappearance to the opera scene would be attributed to his cousin and himself. They would be praised for managing what Madam Johannson could not, for returning the most beautiful voice to the public.

As they settled themselves in a private box to take in this great triumph, Justin debated telling William what Lenore had requested of him earlier that day, of relating her encounter with the Ghost.

He was seriously considering that they just might be dealing with the supernatural. As such, he had frequently kept recalling Madam Johannson's words. "Do the dead know they're dead?" If the Ghost didn't realize he was dead, he certainly seemed to have some idea that time had passed. For he asked for Euros, not francs. Perhaps he assumed that only a few years had gone by, not one hundred and fifty, and the change in currency was due to the constant changes of France's government that had characterized the 1800s.

If they were dealing with a lingering spirit, what was to be done about it? The Ghost must have some reason it was still there, something it needed fulfilled. Though he consistently requested his salary and the reservation of Box 5, it was obviously not what he needed to move on. We could hold a séance; that way we could find out he needs and help him. If he refuses to tell us and will not allow our help, I suppose we could try an exorcism.

Deciding to share Lenore's earlier requests and swap theories on how to handle a spirit, Justin leaned over to address William. But just then, the house lights dimmed and the curtain came up. It would simply have to wait until intermission.

When Lenore's voice was first heard offstage, the audience seemed to lean forward as one, each member silently willing the character of Rodolfo, played by the lead tenor Ignazio Ricci, to get to the door and open it just a bit faster than he was going at current. When Lenore was revealed, the patrons gasped loudly in surprise and delight. Dessler retained her composure as if nothing had transpired.

Rodolfo invited Mimi inside, and she refused. He pleaded with her again, and that's when it started. Lenore gave a startled cry as something appeared on the floor next to her feet and scooted out onto the stage. It was an old wind up monkey figure, wearing Persian robes and a fez, and banging miniature cymbals together. Ignazio stared at it for a moment, utterly baffled, and then began to chase after it. After a few minutes of running around the stage like a complete idiot (to which the audience chuckled, finding amusement in this little interruption), he captured the toy and threw it offstage.

The performance resumed, going back a few lines to when Rodolfo opens the door and invites Mimi in. But the moment Rodolfo repeated his invitation to enter the room, the monkey toy returned, once again shooting past the ankles of a startled Lenore. Ignazio went after it again, cursing at the thing in Italian. This time, he threw it into the wings on the side of the stage opposite from Lenore.

Taking it from the same place as before, Ignazio sang the line inviting Mimi into Rodolfo's abode with a confident smile. It seemed the monkey was not thwarted, for the little toy once again attempted to wheel onstage past Lenore. (How it had possibly gotten from one side of the stage to the other in such a short amount of time was anyone's guess.) It seemed Lenore had suspected this would happen, and she quickly shot her ankle out into its path. The monkey ran into her ankle, rebounded a few inches, and motored forward smack dab into her ankle once again.

As the monkey repetitively collided with her ankle, Lenore began a coughing fit, and Ignazio picked up his lines, asking Mimi if she was unwell. Thankfully, the rest of Act I passed without interruption.

The Ghost will ruin this performance, I know it. Just as he humiliated other managers in the past to achieve his desires, so will he do to us. We can give in to him, or we can try to fight him and be destroyed. We shouldn't have sold Box 5, that was a stupid move. If I'd been smart, I would've done what Lenore wanted.

"William," Justin whispered softly to get his cousin's attention as Act II commenced. "Perhaps we should"-

"Nonsense. It was a childish prank; if that's the best he can do, we've nothing to worry about. And I believe our Phantom may be one of the stagehands. Clearly, it was someone behind Lenore that kept sending the blasted thing out on stage," William replied calmly, knowing precisely what Justin wished to discuss.

Act II proceeded to go forth, Justin's dread growing every second. The Ghost would not simply stop at such a minor interference. When Musetta entered, the performance hit another snag. The poor girl's costume got caught on something, which wouldn't have been a problem ordinarily. But this time, her dress came apart at the seams, collapsing to the stage floor and leaving her in her undergarments. The girl screamed her embarrassment, running offstage faster than Justin thought possible. The curtain dropped quickly as the audience began to laugh.

William had hurried out of their box to handle things backstage, which left Justin to deal with the tittering audience. Rather than wasting time going to the stage, he decided to address them from the box. Here goes nothing…

"Ladies and gentlemen," he called out, projecting his voice so that everyone would be sure to hear him, "we apologize for the interruptions. The production will resume shortly. Until such time, we ask that you simply stay in your seats and…talk amongst yourselves." Hopefully they would comply.

That little task completed, he dropped into his chair and sighed. He would've had a later scene moved forward, except that a good many portions of Acts III and IV contained dialogue for Musetta. And Musetta was, most likely, locked in her dressing room and crying over being so thoroughly shamed in public. Any parts of the last two acts that did not contain Musetta were extremely crucial to the romance between Rodolfo and Mimi, so moving those parts forward would ruin the rest of the performance.

After almost fifteen minutes, the curtain lifted and the opera resumed with Musetta's entrance. The girl tiptoed on stage as if terrified, her cheeks a very brilliant red. There was a slight waver in her voice when she sang, making it quite clear that she'd been crying and was struggling not to return to that state. The rest of Act II went without a hitch.

Act III was a short act, and Justin wasn't sure the Ghost could ruin it. In the first act, the monkey's entrance had been a response to Rodolfo's invitation. Musetta's little crisis had been a pun on the character, so willing to take off her clothes. Certainly Act III would not offer any opportunities…

Marcello and Musetta were engaged in their argument about Musetta's flirtations, and Justin was momentarily stunned by the superb acting. Then, suspicion whispered that maybe it was too good. Instead of proclaiming she would leave Marcello, Musetta flung herself at him and the two became locked in a vicious fistfight. Ignazio and Lenore had to pull the two apart in the end. Marcello and Musetta stared at one another in befuddlement, as if they hadn't the slightest idea why they'd behaved so terribly.

Act IV made Justin stiff as a board with tension. He knew it too would have some interruption, even though he tried to convince himself that the last act would be considered sacred due to Mimi's death. In fact, it was as Mimi lay on her deathbed talking to Rodolfo that the Ghost intervened.

"Do you remember when I came here for the first time?" Mimi inquired.

"Do I remember!" Rodolfo exclaimed.

"My light had gone out…"

A loud crash echoed through the house as a stage light hit the floor a few feet from Lenore and Ignazio. Ignazio and Lenore stared at it in terror, knowing how close they had come to being hit. Ignazio tore his eyes away from it, peering into the dark house for Justin and William, hoping for instruction on what to do now.

Lenore, on the other hand, decided for herself. "I lost the key, and you began groping about to find it," Mimi continued, stealing one of Rodolfo's lines so that her own made sense. Ignazio followed her lead, and they finished the production with a broken stage light on the set.

Just as the curtain fell, a voice rang out over the house. "From this point forward, Box 5 will be kept empty, dear managers."

"Finally back at college!" Tammy crowed. "Not that this is where I prefer to be…but I'm glad not to be at home for a while. Anyway, I wish to apologize for taking so long on this chapter. But shortly after I last updated, I got a new kitten. And then family came in for Iowa, so I wasn't on my computer all that often. After that, I had to read Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. And then I just had writer's block for a while."

"You played that sims game instead of trying to write," Hiroshi said with a sour look. For he believed that, if Tammy wasn't busy with writing, she should occupy herself with pleasing him.

"Um…well…my sims needed me. They would've died without me. You on the other hand, survived the neglect," Tammy pointed out. "You're just so strong, Hiroshi."

"You little flatterer," Hiroshi accused.

"Damn, you saw through it. Oh well. Anyway, remember to review people."