The manager went on about the history of the Opera House, and how mysterious things have been happening for as long as anyone could remember. I had sat there, clinging onto every thing he said. Making connections of what had happened during Christine's reign, to what I've read in the book.

"Now, do not think me a fool, because I most certainly am not. But I do only believe that there might be a chance of the Phantom being...real." The manager finished, wringing his hands together nervously.

The corners of my mouth twitched upwards as I turned to see my friends reactions. Elle nodded as she seemed to try and take in what she had been told, while Mack raised one eyebrow and looked over to me. Elle straightened her back as she looked straight at the manager. "Thank you for telling us that. I think we should be getting back to our group though. Good day." With that said, she stood up and left the room, Mack and I following behind her.

I slightly jogged up to her before grabbing onto her arm to halt her movement. "What the hell Elle? That was a little rude."

She swiftly turned around before pointing towards the office we just exited, "What the hell? He's delusional! Sure, some weird things might've happened, but is it really logical to blame it on some fictional character from a book that NONE of these guys have really seen?"

"Some fictional character? He even said that he knew it was the Phantom, Elle! Could you think of anyone else who would be able to created that tunnel behind Christine's mirror?" I hissed back at her.

Elle let a snort leave her mouth as she started ticking multiple reasons off on her fingers, "Okay then. Let's see. For starters, the book was published way after the plot was set, making anything in it made up. Secondly, that manager never said he knew for sure! He said there might be a chance, meaning he has never actually seen the damn ghost. And lastly, many tourists come here because of the book! Of course they're going to try and put as much of the book in this place! The tunnel is going to be for profit!"

I huffed before crossing my arms. Her reasoning was more believable than I would have liked to admit. Maybe she was right, I should just drop this. "Whatever... plus, tourists come here for the architecture. Not for the book." I mumbled teasingly.

Elle's deadpanned expression livened up a bit as she jabbed an elbow at my ribs, "But you aren't here for the architecture, Jay."

I let a dramatic sigh leave my lips as I flipped my hair in a 'whatever.' kind of fashion. Mack, who had found a place to lean against during our disagreement, walked up between us as he plopped both of his arms over our shoulders. "Ah, I love happy endings." He sighed.

"Speaking of happy endings, do you know where mister grumpy-grumps went?" I asked, as I recalled Jake storming out of Christine's dressing room. I really didn't trust him storming around a place full of antique vases down every hallway when I saw how angry he looked.

Mack shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, "Probably back to the group. I don't really understand why he was so upset though. Must be on his man period or something." He winked at me as Elle and I both burst out laughing.

I took in an exasperated breath as I calmed down a bit, "I don't know, but I have a feeling that I'm going to have to talk to him about what happened sooner or later." I would've preferred not having to talk to him today. His emotions seemed to be way too fickle for me to handle, and I didn't want to have to deal with him getting angry at me for trying to talk to him about how he treated the manager, and even me. Hopefully it was just not a good day for him, and it'd blow over the next day.

All that I had to worry about right now was how much trouble we'd be in when we get back to our group.

Erik sneered as he watched the teens and Christine leave the managers office. Shifting his body from behind the portrait hanging in the office, he rolled his shoulders to get out the knots that had formed from leaning against the hard tunnel wall during the little story the manager was telling. Speaking of story, that's what he made it sound like. Only a story. Nothing he said seemed to be believable.

Erik stopped his thoughts before slapping his hand to his partly covered forehead. Of course it sounded like a story. No one knew that he was a real person. They only thought he was some made up caricature from a novel written about him. He never even recalled meeting or hearing about a man named Gaston Leroux. Wouldn't he know if someone other than Christine and that insolent man, Raoul, came into his lair?

His mind went back to his Angel of Music. How was he supposed to get her to come back to him? It seemed as if she had chosen not to remember him! He had waited decades for something to get his muse back. He wasn't about to let her be taken away from again. Not from another man, and certainly not because she didn't remember him.

He snapped out of his thoughts as he heard a thump from outside of the painting. Cracking the painting open a little, he saw the manager had hit his head against his desk, groaning about how no one believed him. Erik shook his head, and just to rally up the manager even more, he called out, "That was quite pathetic, monsieur."

The manager's head snapped up as he frantically looked all around the room. Erik chuckled at how the manager's face paled, thinking that he was indeed insane, before heading deep into the tunnel to find his Angel.

We didn't have to look far as we found our group near the entrance, our company manager worriedly talking to a man, holding onto Taylor by the arm as she pouted. One of the kids from the group turned around looking at us before he called out, "Hey! I found them!"

Our manager stopped talking as she quickly pushed her way through the crowd of teens. Her features went from worried to frustrated in a split second after she came to be in front of us. "You guys made me worried sick! We were barely heading into the next room when Jake had pointed out that you guys weren't with us."

I looked around the angry woman to find Jake standing off to the side of the group, arms crossed with a glare before his eyes met with mine. His glare dropped, and he shifted behind the rest of the group awkwardly. I shook my head in his direction as I focused back on the lecture I had been ignoring.

"... it was irresponsible! We weren't even able to finish the tour because of you guys. Luckily for the rest of us, the tour guide said that he'd be willing to finish the tour." Our manager declared.

Elle raised a shy finger as she questioned, "By 'the rest of us' do you mean...?"

"Yes, you guys aren't coming. You will stay here in the lobby while this man," She motioned over to the man who she had been talking to a moment ago, "watches over you. You guys have lost the privilege to join us on this tour."

We all shifted in discomfort under the disapproving glare everyone gave us as they headed back up the stairs to finish the tour. The man came over and motioned towards a perfectly polished bench for us to sit on as we waited.

Elle rested her elbows on her knees as she groaned, "This sucks balls, man." Mack and I only hummed in agreement.

Ten minutes had passed, and I had slumped over on the bench in boredom, trying to entertain myself by counting how many tiles were marble looking. Which was everyone of them. My ears perked up as I caught the sound of muffled singing in the distance. I lifted my head to look over at Elle and Mack to see if they also heard, but they didn't move from their crunched up positions on the bench. I looked back over in the direction of the muffled singing.

I licked my lips before standing up and slightly turning my head to the side, "Guys, I'm going to go use the restroom."

I walked forward a little before I turned towards the man who was supposed to be watching us, only to find him leaning back on his chair with his feet up and a newspaper over his face as he slept. Taking that as an okay to go on, I crept into the hallway. It seemed to be bare of any security guards, so I didn't worry about looking for places to hide.

The singing started to become more louder, but the lyrics were still muffled. I started putting my ear up to each door, but the singing didn't come from any. I finally put my ear up to the last door, and was able to hear the singing clearly. As I entered, I came face to face with a bare room other than a portrait of a woman. Walking up to the large portrait, I looked at the little golden plaque at the very bottom. 'Christine Daae'. I slowly looked up to the face of the woman.

By now, the singing had become louder, and almost hypnotizing. I stared up at the painting, as my eyes widened in surprise. As I studied her face, I felt my own facial features, finding them similar to hers, but at the same time, very different. As I was distracted looking at the portrait of a woman who slightly looked like me, I didn't realize that the painting started to slightly crack open.

My whole body felt hypnotized, and I didn't register a shadowed figure step out from behind the painting and take my hand. I let the figure gently lead me towards the crack, and then enter a dark hole behind it. The singing soon stopped, and I started to come to my senses that I had let some random shadowed figure take me into a pitch black tunnel.

Without thinking, I blindly kicked the figure, feeling my foot connect with what I think was their shin and them grunting in pain. Their grip loosened enough that I was able to yank my hand away and start to blindly stumble.

"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!" I panted as I let my hands touch the wall to help guide me. I could faintly hear footsteps from behind me, and I yelped as I felt a hand touch my shoulder. I turned my head enough to quickly bite the hand, barely registering that it was covered by a glove.

The hand pulled back as the owner of it questioned disbelieving, "She bit me?"

I quickly started to pick up my pace to get away from this person, 'I'm gonna die. I'm gonna die.' I repeated over and over in my mind. It was so dark I couldn't see what was in front of me, and because of that, I didn't see how the floor went down into steps before it was too late. The momentum I had used in that one step caused me to tumble down the steps. As I fell farther, I noticed that it started to become brighter.

As my falling finally came to a stop, I slowly sat up and placed a hand at the back of my head, feeling a giant goose egg started to form. "Oh Jesus that hurts." I groaned, my vision slowly fading in and out.

I groaned louder as I felt someone pick me up by my waist, which I'm pretty sure is now bruised, and hold me up against a wall. I peeked one eye open to see an outline of a man with one side of his face pure white. The black fuzz that I assumed to be his eyebrow turned down in what looked like frustration.

Slowly reality slipped from my grasp, but not before I heard a smooth voice heavily breath out, "You are not Christine."

Alright! And now Jace finally comes to meet Erik. The plot thickens! *laughs crazily*

Sorry for taking so long to update. it's been two whole months man. I was just so busy with school, and finals that I had no time to write. But hey, it's summer now! MORE UPDATES!

Thanks for all of you who have stayed with the story even though it took me so long to update! I hope updating more often will be accepted as an apology? Anyway...I shall see you guys soon. Please do tell me if there is anything that I can improve on, that'd be much appreciated!

Until next chapter!

Erik: *waves hand nonchalantly* Yeah, because I'm so looking forward to see how you are going to mutilate me.
Me: Oh shush, I will try to keep you canon.