Four months. It had been four long months since Christine had left with Raoul. I had overheard from those stupid managers that she had gone to London with him.

Since she had left I had spent every waking minute working on my Opera, Don Juan Triumphant, and trying not to think of Christine. But she was there with me every minute, haunting me. Over and over I replayed her conversation with Raoul on the rooftop. Her horror when describing my face. The longing in her eyes when she spoke of my voice. The woman was the very study of a contradiction and no matter how hard I tried to forget her I could not.

I knew I still loved her as much as I ever had but my anger with her for her denial, her betrayal, had overtaken the love and I grew to want to see her hurt as badly as I hurt. It did not matter to me that there was no rationale behind it.

The time not spent working on my opera was spent skulking through the secret passageways throughout the Opera. I watched the progress as they rebuilt the seats that had been flattened by the chandelier. Soon the Opera House was back to its former perfection, save for the conspicuous missing chandelier.

I laughed aloud remembering the weeks after the 'tragic accident' as they called it. The Opera swarmed with police, all intent on hunting down the Phantom. Many times as I stood inches away from them I would have to force myself not to laugh. I doubted highly that they could find me even if I stood in front of them waving a torch.

Almost three months to the day after the 'accident' Andre and Firmin returned. I was in the shadows above the stage when they entered. They looked nervous, as they usually did these days. They looked over the new seats and conversed with a thin man with a wiry moustache that was going to install the new chandelier. When they started in the direction of their office I followed them.

From behind the mirror I watched as they shuffled through papers and a stack of mail. They seemed apprehensive and only relaxed when they had gone through the entire pile.

"Ah, still no notes from the Opera Ghost!" Firmin said with a hearty laugh.

"Perhaps he has found a new Opera House to haunt," Andre added.

"It is about time we start a new production. We cannot wait much longer," Firmin said thoughtfully.

"Yes, yes," agreed Andre. "Perhaps a traditional show."

"Yes, but we need to have a party, to celebrate the Opera House re-opening."

"And to celebrate the new chandelier."

"Of course."

So, they thought I had left, I thought. Little did they know I was just biding my time, waiting for the most opportune moment to stage my return.

"Hopefully we hear back from Miss Daae soon, to know if she is to return."

"Mmm," Andre said. "Signora Guidicelli and Signor Piangi have agreed to return, as has most of the chorus. We will have to audition for a few parts. Some of them refused to come back after the chandelier."

Firmin snorted. "I hardly blame them," he said.

"Perhaps a Masquerade Ball. On All Hallows Eve," Andre suggested, brining the conversation back to the party.

Firmin laughed. "A fitting day to return to the Phantom's old haunt. We will announce the new production. We should be able to open by the start of the New Year."

"Indeed. Splendid idea."

I left then, deep in thought. Two months. I had two months to finish my score and plan my grand entrance during the Masquerade. I would have to hurry.

I worked furiously those next weeks, perfecting my Opera and making my plans for the Masquerade. I checked in on the manager's plans every few days and found out that Christine was to return, as I knew she would. She may have left with that idiot, Raoul, but she still belonged to me.

Don Juan Triumphant was finished at last. So many years I had worked on it, and now it was finally complete and I would see it performed on the stage of the Paris Opera House, and Christine, Christine would sing the lead.

The costume I had chosen for the Masquerade was perfect. The Masque of the Red Death. It had taken some doing, but Charles had worked hard to get it completed. It was a magnificent costume and would no doubt be impressive when I showed it off! I smiled grimly as I thought of their faces when they realised that the Phantom of the Opera was far from being gone…

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The night of the Masquerade came quickly once I had settled back into life in Paris. Raoul had forbidden me from going to the Opera House before the night of the gala. I had complied, not because Raoul had forbidden me, but because it was easier to not have to think about my feelings as long as I was away from it.

Raoul had agreed to attend the ball with me, as I knew he would. He would never allow me to go alone and I think he was finally figuring out that when it came to the Opera, I was far more stubborn that he had realised.

Our costumes for the Masquerade were simple. We were dressed as dominos, Raoul as a black domino in a black suit with white dots, and I was a white domino with black dots. Our costumes were simple, yet elegant, and we each carried an ornate, jeweled mask on a stick.

The carriage pulled to a stop in front of the Opera House and Raoul and I stepped from the carriage. We walked through the front doors and I felt a rush of excitement. There were so many people, and all of them in ornate costumes. I saw a jester, a butterfly, a monkey. There was something slightly disconcerting seeing all of these people in masks. You could not always tell who was who and I could not help but feel that anyone could be hiding behind those masks…

The first people we ran into were Messieurs Andre and Firmin, who were dressed almost identically as skeletons with long capes.

"Miss Daae! So glad that you returned!" Firmin said jovially. "And Vicomte, wonderful to see you!"

Raoul nodded, "And you, Gentlemen," he said.

We followed Firmin and Andre into the foyer. The grand staircase, which led to the upper seats, was full of people in costume, laughing and talking loudly. Music played and several couples were dancing. Waiters wearing black tuxedo's walked among the guests with trays of champagne and hors'dourves. We each accepted a glass, and walked around, sipping the champagne and greeting old friends.

Carlotta was there, dressed as a bat. I fought back a giggle as I thought how appropriate her costume was! Piangi tailed her, dressed as a Roman.

She saw Raoul and me immediately. Her eyes narrowed and she sniffed and said something in Italian to Piangi and he laughed.

"Ignore them," Raoul whispered as he saw where my gaze was directed.

"Of course," I replied distractedly. I was back at the Opera, back in Erik's world. I had far more on my mind than Carlotta's little games.

Messieurs Andre and Firmin walked up then with Madame Giry and Meg in tow. Madame Giry was the only one around not in costume. She was wearing her traditional black dress, while Meg was wearing a sparkling pink fairy costume.

"Oh, Christine! It is so good to see you!" Meg cried, throwing her arms around me. "I have missed you so!"

"And I have missed you," I told Meg. I could tell she was dying to ask me about the time I had been away, but just then a waiter came up with a tray of champagne, which he passed around and everyone took a glass.

"What a night!" Madame Giry said with a rare smile.

"And what a crowd," said Meg.

"Ah, yes," Andre said. "Six months of peace. No more notes, and no sign of the ghost!"

Firmin laughed. "It is sort of a shame that Phantom fellow isn't here. I dare say he would fit in perfectly!"

There was an uneasy silence and Madame Giry looked at Firmin disapprovingly.

"How about a toast?" Andre said quickly, attempting to smooth things over. "To a prosperous new season!"

"And to the new chandelier!" Firmin added.

As one, everyone raised their glasses, clinked them together and took a drink. One by one the group dispersed until I was left standing with Raoul. Just then the orchestra started a new song and Raoul grinned and pulled me into his arms. "Shall we dance?" he asked.

"Certainly," I replied, trying to ignore my slight feeling of unease. We were immediately swept into the sea of masks and costumes. Within a few minutes a man dressed as a knight cut in and danced a few steps with me. Then a jester, followed by a devil in a red cape. One after another I was swung from partner to partner, barely glancing at the masked face before I was swept off by another partner. I was surrounded by masks, everywhere I looked. I was starting to feel suffocated and dizzy. I was about to try to slip away from the dancing when I was swept into a pair of strong arms. When I looked up I gasped. I was in the arms of a masked highwayman in black with a flowing black cape. The beaded mask covered most of his face and shadows hid his eyes. I tried to pull away from him, but he held me tighter.

"No!" I gasped, but the music had grown louder and louder and no one heard me.

Panicked, I reached up and tore off his mask.

A pair of confused brown eyes stared down at me. It was Peter Dubois, a cast member that had worked at the Opera since before I had even started there. I backed away, embarrassed. But before I could say anything, Raoul had swept me back into his arms, unaware that anything was wrong. My heart was still racing, but I relaxed into the safety of Raoul's embrace.

More people joined the dancing and I soon forgot my foolish fears. Nothing was going to happen, I told myself.

No sooner had I thought that when, during a brief intermission between songs, there was a crack and a flash of light from the top of the main staircase. The crowd fell silent, looking at the top of the stairs, expecting some new kind of entertainment. Smoke obscured the top of the staircase and the guests gathered around the foot of the stairs, whispering, wondering, as I wondered, what the manager's had planned.

I glanced around and saw Andre and Firmin a few feet away. Their faces were white and they were staring up at the smoke with almost identical looks of horror.

My heart skipped a beat as I realised they had nothing to do with this. I took a step back and immediately ran into a masked guest. Raoul looked over at me curiously but his attention went back to the stairs as the there was a loud gasp from the crowd.

A figure, clad entirely in red velvet with a mask in the shape of a horrible death's head was descending the stairs, a flowing hooded red cape swirling behind him. There was an aura of danger surrounding him and the guests that stood along the staircase backed away from him. His footsteps echoed loudly in the now silent room.

I felt my face drain of color as he spoke. His voice was quiet, yet it echoed throughout the room, exuding power.

"Why so silent, good Messieurs?" Erik asked, his voice dripping with venom. "Did you think that I had actually left you for good?"

The crowd parted before him, scattering like pigeons as he strode forward. He stopped a few feet away from the managers, who looked horrified.

"Did you miss me, Messieurs?" Erik asked lightly, almost playfully, but with an undercurrent of danger in his voice. "I have written you an Opera." He pulled a large leather covered book from beneath his arm. He tossed it to Andre, who caught it and looked down at it in dismay.

"It is called Don Juan Triumphant, and I expect it to be your next production. I advise you to follow my instructions. They should be easy enough to understand. Remember, there are things that are far worse than a shattered chandelier."

It was deathly silent, all eyes on the Phantom. Andre and Firmin nodded reluctantly. Raoul was gripping my arm, trying to move me behind him. Erik turned suddenly and fixed his gaze upon Raoul and me.

"Christine," he said softly, his voice mesmerizing. He held out a gloved hand and motioned me to him. I stepped forward, shrugging out of Raoul's grip. He tried to grab me, but Andre and Firmin held him back.

I stood in front of Erik, staring up at his masked face. I could see his brilliant blue eyes burning behind his mask. I looked up at him, my emotions churning inside of me. Fear battled with a rush of excitement.

Erik reached out his hand and for a moment I thought he was going to caress my cheek as he had done all those months ago when he had first taken me to his underground lair. Instead he grasped the chain I wore around my neck and pulled out the diamond engagement ring. He stared down at it for a moment. His eyes flashed dangerously and he ripped the necklace from around my neck and held it in his clenched fist.

"Your chains are still mine, Christine," he said softly, his voice calm. "You will sing for me."

He turned and stalked back up the stairs. When he got to the top he turned around to face the stunned crowd. He laughed his manic laugh and raised one hand. There was another flash of light and smoke and when it cleared, he was gone.

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I strode through the passageway, down the five levels to the lake. I still held Christine's necklace in my hand. Even the looks of terror on those silly manager's faces was not enough to make up for the anger and hurt I felt when I realised what that ring meant.

She was engaged, engaged to the Vicomte, that arrogant, foolish boy. She would devote her life to him and he would crush her spirit, of that I had no doubt. There was a fire in Christine, a fire that was well hidden, but no doubt existed. I had seen hints of it, but with someone like Raoul, Christine would never grow, never blossom. As for Raoul, a performer would not be a suitable wife for the Vicomte. She would be forced to stay home, hosting parties and playing the part of a proper wife, all the while she would be yearning for the stage.

Seething, I rowed across the lake. This would not do. This would not do at all. If I could just convince her to come back to me, as her teacher, perhaps I could show her that marrying the Vicomte was not right. I could not allow her to marry Raoul, though I harbored no fantasy that she would ever care for me. But, to see talent such as hers thrown away…I could not bear the thought.

Striding through my chambers I removed my heavy Death's Head mask and hat, then sat down at my desk, picked up a feather quill and began composing a note…

X

The next day I had my notes delivered. On my way back from the Rue Scribe entrance I made a detour past the stage to see if Andre and Firmin were around.

They were not, but I bristled when I saw Raoul hurrying after Madame Giry, who was walking backstage. I melted into the shadows behind the curtains and watched them.

"Madame!" Raoul called. "Madame Giry, I must speak with you." He caught up with her and grabbed her arm. She whirled around.

"Please, Monsieur, do not ask me. I know nothing more than anyone else," she said, glancing around uneasily.

"I do not believe that. You know something, Madame."

"I know nothing," she protested. She was clutching her walking stick tightly, her knuckles turning white. "Please, do not ask me."

"Madame, I beg you, for all our sakes," Raoul said, staring at her intently. "How do you get his notes, this Phantom?"

Madame Giry sighed and lowered her voice. "I have seen him, Monsieur. Just a shadow, but I have seen his figure in Box Five. He will just appear there and in a flash he is gone. If he leaves a note, he leaves it on the railing."

Raoul narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. "This Phantom is no ghost. He is a man, of flesh and blood. But why is he here?"

There was a pause. "I do know more, Monsieur…" she said slowly, almost reluctantly.

"Please, tell me what you know," Raoul said.

"One night, many years ago, as I left the Opera quite late I ran into a man outside the Rue Scribe entrance. He was nervous, fidgety. I demanded to know what he was doing, where he came from. He had been drinking. He babbled about a man who lived in the Opera House, a genius who had once worked for the Shah of Persia. He said he built a maze of mirrors, and a torture chamber. He was a musician and composer, an architect, a magician and inventor. This drunk man, who called himself Emond, said he had worked with this man and that he was horribly disfigured and stayed in the darkness away from everyone. He said he wore a mask…"

"A mask…" Raoul repeated.

"He would tell me no more, and seemed terrified when he realised how much he had already said. And now, I have said too much. I follow the Phantom's orders, and I suggest you do the same, Monsieur. We have seen what he is capable of. There have been too many accidents"

"Accidents?" Raoul repeated incredulously.

"I must go," Madame Giry said and hurried away. Raoul stood still for another moment before he turned and went the other way.

Stunned, I stayed in the shadows. Madame Giry knew my secret, and now Raoul did as well. I would never have believed Charles could have betrayed me the way he had, but alcohol made people do foolish things.

Well, it was no matter. Phantom, ghost or man, I had Andre and Firmin where I wanted them. Madame Giry had spoken the truth. It was unwise not to follow my orders. I doubted highly that Firmin and Andre would be stupid enough to ignore my instructions again. After all, I might not be as kind a second time.