Chapter 3, Opera Populaire catacombs, Paris, France, 1869

Christine led Raoul down the torch-lit passage, silently praying to herself that Erik wouldn't object to the unexpected guest. She hated getting Erik upset. Even though he was only eleven, Christine had seen him in moods that could be as unpredictable and precarious as her father's. True, Erik had never hurt her or anyone else that she knew about, but she wasn't so sure how he would react to Raoul.

"How did you find this place?" Raoul's inquisitive voice pulled Christine out of her reverie.

Christine paused and turned to look at her cousin. He was staring at the stone walls, watching droplets of water drip and slide from unknown crevices.

"A friend showed me." She responded quietly.

Raoul turned to face her. "What friend?"

Christine sighed and kept walking further into the underground. "You'll see."

Much to her relief, Raoul didn't ask her anything more and they both continued walking in eerie silence. Going down a flight of stairs, their path soon became slightly more illuminated as they reached a path through the catacombs with candles adorning the walls. Christine and Raoul then reached a large area that stretched endlessly before them. The huge expanse went as far as the eye could see and had numerous stone archways and pillars ascending into the cavern's ceiling. His mouth slightly agape, Raoul stepped forward slowly, transfixed by the mysterious room and its unique architecture.

"Raoul! Watch out!"

Christine shouted, causing him to wake out of his trance. Raoul turned angrily on his cousin, his eyes glaring at her.

"Will you stop trying to frighten me? I am just looking at-"

"Stop arguing and watch where you are going!" She snapped, interrupting him.

Raoul then saw that the ground sharply dropped off. The cavern's floor suddenly descended until it became several feet lower than the walkway they stood on.

"You could have fallen and hurt yourself. Then I would have to drag your careless carcass-"

"Save it, Lotte. Lets just meet this friend of yours and-"

"Raoul? What are you doing here?"

The Vicomte and Christine both whirled around.

"Meg?" Raoul exclaimed.

The petite Meg Giry stood before them, a parcel wrapped in cloth under her arm and an oil lamp in her hand lighting up her pleasant features. She stared disbelievingly at Raoul for a few moments, and then shifted her gaze to Christine.

"What have you done Lotte?" She asked her voice hardly above a whisper. "I thought we decided not to tell him."

"Tell me? I thought you were the one who wasn't supposed to know!" Raoul interjected.

"Me?" The thirteen-year old shook her head, her blond curls bouncing, "Heavens no, I have known about Erik since before Lotte came to the opera house."

"Erik? Who is he?"

Meg suddenly went pale. "You mean…Lotte hasn't told you?"

The older boy glared intensely at the little girl.

"Lotte…" Raoul growled through clenched teeth.

"I-I can explain." Christine stuttered. "I was going to tell you when we got closer to his home."

"Home? No one lives down here except rats and vermin Lotte!" Raoul shouted his face red with anger and frustration. "You've wasted my time!"

"I'm sorry." Christine whispered softly, frightened by Raoul's outburst.

"That isn't enough!" Raoul's face was now inches from hers, his anger clearly escalating towards her. "A person could get himself killed down here and you're just gallivanting like an idiot! Wait until I tell your father..."

"Raoul," Meg placed a calming hand on his shoulder, "That's enough. She's just trying to be a good friend."

Raoul immediately backed off of Christine and frowned irritably, but instead of retorting, simply sighed heavily. Meg had that effect on him.

Meg noticed that Christine was trembling and enveloped the girl a comforting hug. "Don't worry little Lotte, he won't tell Gustave." She whispered, "Let's just find Erik and give him the food we brought alright?"

Christine nodded submissively, her eyes showing fear and hesitation. Meg gently removed the flaming torch from Christine's firm grasp and thrust it at Raoul.

"Make yourself useful." She snapped at the Vicomte.

"Why?" He challenged holding the torch disdainfully, "It was her idea to come down here in the first place and-"

"SILENCE!"

The bickering immediately ceased as a demanding voice resonated throughout the catacombs, sending cold shivers down Raoul's spine. The threesome remained still, anticipating the voice to speak again. For several tense moments, no one insomuch as breathed. Then, a sweet melodic voice broke the weighty silence.

Angel of Music

Hide no longer!

Come to me strange angel…

It took Raoul a moment to realize that it was Christine that was singing, but he had no chance to react as another deeper, stronger voice sung in response.

I am your Angel…

Come to me: Angel of Music…

Christine looked to Meg and the older girl nodded. The seven-year old stepped carefully to the edge of the sharp decline of the cavern floor and jumped, landing skillfully on both feet. The girl secured the basket on her arm, reached for Meg's lamp, then nodded to the others to follow her.

"Come on Raoul." Meg whispered as she also jumped down gracefully. Raoul followed suit, his doubt increasing every passing second.

"What was-"

Meg abruptly placed a finger on his lips and shook her head, preventing him from conversing further.

"Stay quiet."

Raoul concurred, his interest overcoming his apprehension. Lotte led the way ahead, her movements precise and practiced as she moved deeper into the expansive yet secure den.

The eerie lighting of the stone walls added to the suspense as Christine reached a broad tunnel that was beneath an open archway. Raoul instantly noticed a ghostly yellow glow at the end of the passageway, causing him to wonder what was at the end.

Could it be the source of this mysterious 'Erik'?

His curiosity was at its peak since the discovery of the sliding mirror. Ignoring the hiss of Meg to wait, he rushed up behind Christine as she slowed her pace directly under the stone archway. Christine suddenly stopped. Raoul, not expecting her immediate halt, stumbled past her, clumsily landing on the stone ground. He cursed darkly and dusted himself off.

"That's it!" he whirled on his younger cousin, "I am weary of this place and demand you to lead us out of here this instant!"

Christine didn't reply. She gulped nervously and stared at a point right above Raoul's left shoulder.

"Well?" He demanded angrily.

"I thought I told you to be quiet, Vicomte." The unnatural voice boomed.

Raoul spun around. Facing him, with fury in his gray eyes stood a boy.

A boy with a white mask.