It's been so long, and yet not long at all. I still hear his voice as he sings to me and I am beckoned back to the halls and labyrinth of the Opera House... I hope that my coming back has not been too delayed. I am sorry, my dear and loved readers. I will make this chapter something special, just for you...

Dedicated: To my Sith Lord, the one who loves me with his soul and universe-eyes. To drgn grl who never stopped believing in my writing. And to all those who have supported me. Thank you. 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing Phantom of the Opera related or anything copy-righted by anyone. I no own, so you no sue.

"KATRINA!" Orry's strangled voice screamed as he slammed against her door for what seemed like the hundredth time that morning. The wood rattled in it's hinges, but it refused to budge from it's lock. He gave a strangled sob as he slid down the grains, to the floor. "KATRINA!" She was gone. Gone...

Finally, Hedgecliff and Yowling came running down the corridor, keys jingling in their hands. They had been searching for them ever since Orry's screams had awoken them all at around eight that morning. They had found them hidden in a crevice of the old chapel. It was now nearly ten. Yowling's face was pale and drawn as Hedgecliff's shaking hand shoved the key into the lock and twisted it. Orry slammed against the door again and this time, it burst open, cracking down the center of the wood.

The room was empty. There was an impression in her bed, the covers were pulled back. Liquid stains marked the pillow where she had drooled. A coffee cup was smashed to pieces on the floor, the broken shards emitting a strange odor.

"He got her..." Orry moaned, sinking to his knees. "How? How?" He bellowed, leaping up and starting to rend the room and belongings, throwing them recklessly. "We were so damn careful!" His foot slipped in the puddle about her shower flops and he fell. Landing hard, he just sat there as Yowling and Hedgecliff just stared in shock and fear. He took a few deep breaths and his wandering fingers found the broken coffee mug. He picked up a piece.

"What's this smell?" He muttered, sniffing at the liquid remnants clinging to it. "It's weird."

Hedgecliff stalked over and repeated what Orry had done. "Funny." He observed. "It smells like my coffee did when I took ill that one time..."

"Drugged." Orry's head snapped up and he looked about desperately. "She locked herself in here, how did she get out without being seen?" He started to go through the room again, this time much more carefully, fingers feeling about for slight pressure changes in the walls, feet feeling for trap-doors in the floor. "There has to be a secret passage around here somewhere!" He pounded the wall. "Katrina!"

Katrina lifted her head, hair falling about her face. She looked towards the door. Music...soft organ notes dropped like diamonds under the door. It had been far too quiet for far too long...She stood shakily, creeping closer to the door. She very, very, VERY carefully opened the latch on her door. She put her ear to the crack, desperate to hear the soothing sweet tones that she was so used to. But that wasn't what caressed her ears.

In her mind's eye, as the music swirled and twirled, she saw two figures of red meld forward. Slowly they took shapes of humans, one male. One female. They began to dance, apart at first, then slowly moving closer and closer together until there was no space between them...Her heart beat faster as the figures kissed passionately as they dissolved into flames that spread across her mind. Her eyes snapped open as the music stopped. She mourned, tears pricking sharply at her eyes. She raised a hand to wipe them away.

Then the music started again. This time, harsh and angry, sharp and stabbing. She clapped her hands over her ears, trying to block out the stabbing notes. But the music was merciless, pounding, pounding, like pianos falling from the sky and crashing to the ground. She didn't know how long it lasted, but when the notes finally left her alone and faded into the reverberating air, she was left in a small ball on the floor of her room, whimpering, face tear-stained.

There was finally silence.

She stayed where she was, scared to death now. She heard footsteps. The doorknob turned. And Erik opened her door.

"You heard?" He asked, eyes almost completely cold.

All she could do was nod.

"What did you think?"

She opened her mouth, but closed it again.

"You didn't like it." Was she imaging the perverse satisfaction in his voice. She shook her head.

"Erik-"

"Oh, so it's Erik now?" She shuddered at the icicles falling down her neck.

"You've always been-"

"Don't play stupid." He spat. "You know who I was now. You have become blind once more, Katrina. Have I taught you nothing?"

She cowered under his scathing words. It was true, she was biased now that she knew that he was the Phantom of the Opera. And yet, his voice was still Erik.

"But who are you, really?" She heard herself ask. "The same man who kidnaps singers to make them fall in love with him?" She looked up and locked eyes with the burning gaze that had watched her for months. "Or the man who sings to me and comforts me and makes me believe that I'm worth something?"

He stared into her eyes, silent.

She stood up.

Orry kept pressing his fingers against the wood of the walls, nearly mad with his panic and worry. "Where are you?" He demanded of the secret passageway. "Where the hell are you?"

Yowling kept herself back, looking over everything in hopes that somehow, a clue would appear. She brushed aside CD's on Katrina's messy desk and found a note, folded delicately with a seal of a red skull upon it. She slowly picked it up and read the address on it.

"To the Fool who Tries to Follow..." She turned to Orry. "I found this."

He stumbled over, tripping over the boots and stuffed bears on the floor. "What is it?"

"A note." She pulled the seal off and started to unfold the note. The slowness of the unfolding nearly made Orry loose his mind. He was screaming inside as she finally opened it completely. "Dear Orry..." His stomach dropped. "Does it surprise you that I know your name? I know everything about you, boy. Your hopes, your dreams, your fears, your screams. You are unworthy. I have ascended with Katrina to a place among the Angels, where she belongs. Seek her not, else a disaster will fall, far more beyond your imaging than you could fathom. My Angel is now with me and you WILL NOT SEEK HER. Farewell, boy. -OG."

Orry shook where he stood. Yowling looked up at him, taking in his white face, his white knuckles. "What do you plan on doing?"

Orry took a deep breath. "It's just like the past, isn't it?" Yowling watched him. "The past is playing out again. I'm going." He turned and walked out of his room.

Yowling let the note fall to the floor. "Permettez à l'avenir pas de refléter le passé..."

Erik stepped closer to Katrina. He stared into her eyes, into those orbs that could make him melt and obey her very wish. This time, he tried to steel himself against those eyes and look past them, into her soul. She didn't even tremble as she stepped closer to him. Her hair needed re-dying, he thought absently. The brilliant purple was fading. He let her come even closer, staring deep into her eyes.

Who was he...? The mask reminded him, the cold plaster against his hot skin. He felt his hand lift and hover near her hair. She didn't move. "I am who I am." He responded, his gloved fingers slowly touching her hair. She took his hand in hers almost instantly.

"But who is that?" She asked, slowly taking off his glove. His heart sped up as the patent leather left his fingers. She placed the glove to the side, holding his naked spider hand in her own small perfect one (with the sparkling black nail-polish). "Who is the man before me?" Her questions reminded him too much of his Angel past, with her questions.

"I am who I am." He answered more forcefully, trying to pull his hand back. She kept hold of it, still staring up into his face.

"Erik..." She whispered, almost...huskily...into the air. "Or the Phantom?"

He felt...excited. "Can I not be both?"

"No." She stated calmly, gently removing the other glove from his hand. "Choose one."

His heart increased speed. How dare she give HIM a choice? As if she could decide his fate, just like that? Just like...he tried to make Christine decide her own...

Katrina held his hands in her own, heart thudding hard. She was so scared, she wasn't sure if this was the right thing to do. His eyes kept boring into hers, even as she stared back. He pierced through her will, right into her soul. She felt him explore her mind, explore her heart...yet she let him. His fingers moved, entwining with her own. They were cold, almost icy, yet she held onto them.

"Erik." She said quietly. He blinked and nodded to her.

"Yes...I am Erik."

Orry strapped his boots tight and stood. "I'm going to do this." He muttered, walking down the hallways and through the maze of doors. "I have to do this." He opened the dressing room door, walking through the dust and cobwebs. How many weeks had it been since they sang that ill-fated song and brought him back? He pulled the mirror back and stepped through to the moldy passageway. "I'm coming, Kat..." He whispered into the dark. "Keep your hand at the level of your eyes..."

Kat was spell-bound as Erik's eyes smiled at her, at last. His smile wove itself into her mind and ensnared her senses. His fingers wound into her hair and pulled her close, breathing deeply her own sweet scent. She could feel his heart beating against her cheek.

"Katrina..." He sang quietly. Thrills ran down her spine to her toes, her cheeks heating in response to the longing in his voice. She could definitely understand how Christine had lost her mind and heart to this...if he sang her name like that one more time...

He slowly released her, fingers ghosting down her face, relishing every single detail. She shivered lightly, a smile playing on her lips. He wanted to take those lips, gently, possessively, show her how a real man kisses...

Her heart pounded as his hand circled around the back of her head and gently pulled her closer as he bent. Music exploded in her mind as his lips met hers. Swooping, soaring notes swirled about as her heart picked up speed almost painfully. He was such a gentle kisser! She felt her own lips respond as she kissed him back...The kiss became hotter as he pressed her closer and became more demanding. She wrapped her arms about his neck as they kissed deeper.

This was frightening and yet so right...He felt his fingers tighten in her hair as she responded to his kiss, to his love and passion. Finally, dreams were flesh and music was life again...

He gently pulled back. "There is always the danger of too much of a good thing..." He playfully teased as he watched her blush, cheeks flushed, panting very lightly for breath. "But there will be more..." She blushed brighter. "Far more."

She giggled, embarrassed. "Erik, that was..." She laughed. "You're surprisingly good..."

He laughed, taking her hand and leading her up to a lounge where cushions were piled high, near his organ. "Please, Katrina, make yourself comfortable." She snuggled down into the cushions, smiling. "I shall play for you."

He made his way over to the organ and lightly ran his naked fingers over it. Perhaps a love ballad from Ireland? Or a sonnet? No...he knew just the aria to play...from one of his own compositions...

Don Juan Triumphant.