A Phantom Child

     ***

 Erik stalked through the shadows, retracing his steps.  He was fairly
certain that the local police had never found his true lair, and so
decided that it was safe enough to return. He wanted to gather his
papers- his music- before he moved on.  He wanted to get his
architectural plans, his operas, his arias, his music box....
 Erik emitted a low growl of rage when he noticed the ring of  lighted
candles around his organ, and dived into the darkness cast there.  *Who
could possibly be here now!?  I thought they had left...*
 Erik glanced out, careful to hide his face in the shadow.  No one.  He
straightened and walked out to look over by the lake and boat.  No one
there either.  *Then who?*  He tore around his little section of
decorated labyrinth, his molten gold eyes darting from side to side.
That was when he noticed the small brownish figure resting on his dusty
yet elaborate canopy bed.
  He approached carefully, the mutilated part of his face hidden by one
gloved hand, and focused on the unfamiliar body.  As Erik got closer, he
recognized it to be that of a girl, most likely aged fifteen or sixteen,
and saw that she was indeed quite asleep, though still a little wet from
what could only be deduced as her swim through his lake.
 *The gall!  How could such an impertinent child dare to sleep in the
Opera Ghost's lair!?!*  Erik seethed, but found he could not bring
himself to take action.  The young one reminded him much of his darling
Christine.  The same long brown hair, the same smooth white skin.
 Startled, saw something there with her he never expected to.  Erik
cocked his head and looked more closely at the small, white, porcelain
item clutched in her tiny hand.  His Mask....

     ***

 Tenderly Erik lifted his ravaged score.  "Don Juan Triumphant," in
pieces.  His life's work, his opera, CHRISTENE'S opera.
"Christine...."  Erik's voice broke, "No.... I will not...."  He could
not express it in words, nor in thought.  He COULD, however,
express it through music.  Erik stalked over to his organ and sat and,
lightly, lovingly, caressed the ivory keys.  Slowly, a deep resonant
melody rose up mournfully through the labyrinth and out over the lake.
It was nothing as violent as the torn score that lay at his feet, nor as
powerful as the melodies he had been pouring forth as of late.  Instead,
it was a release.  A way to let go of  the pain that had been
accumulating in the last few weeks.
 Erik was so lost in the music that he did not notice the hand that
reached foreword and touched his newly placed mask until he felt the
fingers caress the thin porcelain.  He froze.  *No, God in Heaven, not
again.* But the mask was not ripped away, his hideous face was not
revealed.
 Slowly, the hand recoiled, and Erik grasped it in his own.  Hesitantly,
he swiveled on his stool to face the person who's hand was folded in his
own.  She gasped, but did not try to pull away from him,  "Y--you're
face... the mask...?"
 "I...it's ..it covers--something...."
 She smiled weakly, and pulled her hand out of his, then glanced at his
fallen music.  "Is this yours?"  She asked in a silvery- treble voice,
picking up the torn sheets.
 "Yes..." Erik managed to croak.
 "Don Juan Triumphant.... I--I've been reading it.  It's beautiful."
 "You have?"
 "Yes.  You don't mind?  I--I've sort of made myself at home.
When--when I stumbled onto this place, I thought it was abandoned....I'm
sorry."
 "Whatever for?"
 "I-- this is obviously your home--"
 "This is no home." Erik hissed.
 The stranger looked down at her slippered feet, blushing.
 "I'm sorry... I--I didn't mean to-- I just..." Erik stammered, feeling
guilty for making her feel so.  "My--my name is...Erik, and my HOME," he
sneered, and gestured to the gloomy surroundings, "is at your disposal,
mademoiselle."  He stood and offered her a deep bow.
 She blushed again, and curtseyed.  "Thank you Erik.  I am Alyssa... j
-just plain Alyssa."
 "Alyssa..." Erik whispered, echoing her.  "What, may I ask, brings you
to such a despairing and lonely place?  What possessed an innocent such
as you to swim through my lake, to my lair?  To the Phantom's lair?"
 Alyssa recoiled in horror, "Th-the PHANTOM...?"
 Erik grimaced, and swung around on the stool, his cloaked back to her.
He was very close to sobbing again.  The emotions warred within him,
matching portions of fire and ice.  Rejection was an all too familiar
feeling to him.
 He expected to hear a scream, or at least the sound of receding foot
steps, but when he heard neither, he abruptly swiveled back around and
straightened to his full height.
 His face red, and towering over the small girl on the slight platform
the organ was rested on, Erik looked very fierce.
 Alyssa gasped again, and took another step back, ready to run.  She
turned and retreated, pausing only at the lake to ponder weather she
should swim again, or look for a boat.  In the silence, she heard only
two sounds.  The wild beating of her heart, and the wretched  weeping of
Erik.  The sound struck a chord in her soul.  She found she could
not abandon this poor creature in such a moment, even if he WAS the
feared and hated Opera Ghost.
 Following her heart rather than her head, Alyssa turned once more and
slowly approached Erik.  His thin frame shuddered over the organ with
the power of his tears.  Feeling pity, Alyssa gingerly touched Erik's
shoulder, a movement that caused him to start and turn on her in
disbelief.  Alyssa could see the tears streaming down his face and over
his mask.
 He opened his mouth, the shut it again, not knowing what to say.  *She
came back?* He couldn't understand why.  *Why hadn't she run when she
had the chance?  Everyone else did.*
 "Erik... are you all right?"
 "WHY SHOULD YOU CARE?!" He growled.
 Alyssa was startled by fierceness that just moments before seemed to be
vaunerability.  She was also slightly annoyed,  "Hasn't ANYONE ever
cared about you before?!"
 "NO."
 "No?  My God, Erik.  Never?"
 "No.... never...."
 Alyssa was over come with pity. "Oh, you poor thing....  I--I'm
sorry..."
 "Don't be..." Erik growled.  He did NOT want a child to feel sorry for
him, nor did he need it.  He didn't need anyone.  He didn't need Alyssa,
any more than he needed Christine.  "There is good reason."
 Alyssa took a step back, the disturbing look in Erik's eyes frightened
her.  "Re--reason?"  She stammered.
 "Yessss.." He hissed, reaching for the lip of his mask, feeling totally
cold, "THIS."

     ***

 Lying completely still, he slowly opened his eyes.  Erik listened
closely to the hauntingly familiar melody float up and echo around the
vast labyrinth of cellars.  What was that tune?  How did he know it?  He
listened more closely to the silvery-treble voice.

   Past the point of no return,
   no backward glances.
   Our games of make believe are at an end...

 The song cut of in mid note, a note was played on his organ, and the
song resumed;

   make believe are at an end.
   Past all thoughts of 'if' or 'when',
   no use resisting.
   Abandon thought and let the dream descend.
   What raging fire shall flood the soul?
   What rich desire unlocks it's door?
   What sweet seduction lies before us?

 Once again the sound stopped, and Erik heard the rustle of turning
pages, and a small murmur of approval.  Cautiously, he turned his head
from the pillow, only to see Alyssa haunched over his score.  *That must
be the position that Christine saw me in,* Erik frowned, *ALYSSA saw me
in.*  He groped in the near-darkness for his mask, and slipped it into
place before standing and sneaking up behind Alyssa.  Before he reached
her, she had begun an earlier stanza of the song.

  You have come here,
  in pursuit of your deepest urge.
  In pursuit of that wish which 'till now--now...now

 She struggled with the odd phrasing of the passage and played a few
more notes.  Expertly, Erik finished the stanza of his opera that she
was having trouble with.

  In pursuit of that wish which till now has been silent,   silent.
  I have brought you
  that our passions may fuse and merge.
  I your mind you've already succumbed to me,
  dropped all defenses, completely succumbed to me.
  Now you are here with me,
  No second thoughts.
  You've decided...
  Decided...

 Much to his surprise, Erik found himself leaning against Alyssa's back,
his arms wrapped around her neck and shoulders, whispering the lyrics
into her ear.  But what surprised him even more was the complete
ACCEPTANCE she seemed to have of him, that she ALLOWED him to hold her
in such a way.  Erik felt her reach back to touch him, but pause and
recoil when her fingers brushed his mask, no doubt remembering the
horror
that lied below it.
 Erik blushed in embarrassment, and tightened his hold on her.  His
behavior the night before had been disgraceful.  He was so upset over
the realization that this girl-child actually cared about his feelings,
that he did the only thing natural to him.  He tried to keep her from
getting too close.

 Erik had ripped away his mask, showing to her his horribly mutilated
face, and hopping she would flee from him in terror.  But Alyssa
hadn't.  She gaped openly for a few moments, then fainted dead away.
Immediately ashamed, Erik had scooped her up and placed her back on the
bed.
 There he watched her sleep peacefully for hours, only now and then
glancing at his silver pocket watch.  Slowly it dawned on him the
horrible condition of both their attires.  Erik readily had a wardrobe
available for himself, but finding something to replace Alyssa's
ragged brown dress was another matter entirely.  Of course, Erik was the
Opera Ghost, and there was a wardrobe department in every opera house,
was there not?
 Bringing down the portcullis to keep out any other unwanted intruders,
Erik disappeared into yet another of his many trap-doors and secret
passages.
 Later, much later, Erik reappeared from a different door with a compact
lilac bundle.  Erik laughed to himself, *No doubt La Carlotta will be
upset when the performance begins and her costume is nowhere to be
found...*
 Setting the bundle down an a nearby chair, Erik wearily realized how
long it had been since he had had any truly restful sleep.  Approaching
the occupied bed, he gingerly plucked away a pillow and a cover-sheet
and settled into a pile of cushions that lay in a neglected corner.

 Alyssa had awakened hours later, only to find herself trapped in the
Phantom's expensively decorated lair by a great portcullis.  Frightened,
she began a panic-stricken search for another door, but found none.  The
only way out was blocked. Obviously, the Opera Ghost did not mean to let
her go free after what she had seen.
 In deep despair, Alyssa sank back onto the bed and began to search this
small section of the maze of passage-ways with her eyes.  That was when
she noticed something that definitely had not been there the day
before.  Folded into a neat pile on a nearby chair was a glossamer lilac
dress.
 Curious, Alyssa stood and stepped over to it.  'Twas obviously a dress,
and a matching set of ladies slippers.  There was even a dark blue cloak
tucked into the folds.
 *Did the Ghost bring this for me?* she had wondered.  The material was
beautiful, in fact the entire outfit was gorgeous, and had some very
intricate embroidery and bead work all along the seams.  Why, it looked
like it belonged on a stage.  Alyssa allowed herself a small smile.  It
probably DID belong on the stage, she WAS in the cellar
of the Paris Opera House, was she not?  It probably should be on the
stage right above her at this very moment.
 Alyssa looked up, was there an exit there?  No.  Only a few dangling
candelabras.
 She stared at the lilac bundle for a long time, then down at her own
ragged brown dress.  It had been dirtied and torn in the chase, then
soaked by her frolic in the lake.  *Frolic?  More like panic-stricken
flight.* Alyssa's mind wandered back to retrace the events that lead up
to her encagement here.

 She had refused to obey her father, so was disowned and thrown out into
the street.  *If Mamma were still alive, Papa would never had been able
to--to...  He'd been to drunk to realize...* deep down inside she wanted
to forgive him, but...  Alyssa gingerly touched the giant blue and black
bruise that covered most of her torso, but was hidden by
the course material of her cheap dress.
 She shrugged, attempting to dismiss it.  Just one of the many injuries
she had sustained since her father became doubly associated with the
bottle.
 Wandering and desperate, Alyssa had finally reduced herself to thievery
to eat, and stole a loaf of bread.  Of course, she wasn't a very good
thief, never having the opportunity, nor the need, before to practice,
and so was soon being chased by the local constabulary.
 Just by chance she had stumbled into the open cavern, and the vast,
oily lake.  Hearing the shouts and calls of the angry men, Alyssa dove
into the water and began swimming for the far shore.
 Imagine her surprise when she found the lavish rooms on the other
side!  Some one obviously lived here.  Or HAD lived here.  All the
furniture and candles were coated in layers and layers of dust.
 Apparently, it was abandoned, which was exactly what Alyssa needed.  A
warm comfortable place to hide out from the police.  Still dripping, she
looked around and found some scattered matches and lit a number of
candles that encircled the ancient looking organ.  She then snooped
through many of the torn and scattered pages that were lying in
a haphazard semi-circle around the antique instrument.  Her Mamma had
known how to read a little music, so Alyssa was fortunate enough to be
able to know a G- sharp from a half-rest.
 The bound and ornate score she found was absolutely beautiful, and she
couldn't help but love it.  Now, her curiosity had gotten the better of
her and she had returned to the score, and to singing the duet intended
for Don Juan and his poor maidenly conquest.
 Not being a maestro, she had a little trouble difficulty with a few of
the intervals, and especially one in particular.  While struggling
through it, Alyssa suddenly heard a deep mournful voice behind her pick
up where she had left off and sing through the entire stanza.
 The eerie quality of the pure tenor mesmerized her, and she found
herself riveted to the stool, unable to do anything more than listen.
She felt the powerful arms of the singer slowly encircle her neck and
shoulders, and she felt the tickle of  the warm air as the mysterious
singer whispered the seductive lyrics into her ear.

   ,completely succumbed to me.
   Now you are here with me,
   no second thoughts.
   You've decided...
   Decided...
 

 Alyssa sighed and leant back, reaching to touch the face of the
beautiful voice.  Her hands brushed the cool, firm porcelain, and she
gasped and wrenched herself forward.  But the Phantom's powerful arms
held her in place.  She felt them tighten, and felt the cold whiteness
of the mask press against her cheek.
 After a long moment, Erik released the trembling girl and swiveled the
stool she sat on for her to face him.  Kneeling at her feet, his hands
on her arms, he looked up into her face.
 It was white and contorted into a mask of fear and uncertainty.
 Erik released his grip and sighed raggedly.  He rose to his feet to
look down on the frightened child.  At least her marked expression was
familiar to him.
 With calm distaste he noticed that she still wore the ugly and soiled
brown rags.  "Did you not like my gift, mademoiselle?" he said hoarsely.
 "Y-your gift?" Alyssa stammered.
 "The dress."
 "It--it is beautiful..."
 "But you will not wear it?" he said, slightly offended.
 There was an uneasy pause and Erik focused on an invisible spot out
over the lake.  He was brought back to himself by the sound of Alyssa's
shifting skirts and he watched detachedly as she moved to and lifted up
the glossamer bundle.
 "I shall." she whispered.

     ***

 Erik politely turned his back as the young lady changed out of her own
ragged dress into the shining lilac one.  He may be a monster, but he
was still a gentleman.
 Curiosity, though, got the better of him when he heard Alyssa's gasp
and hiss of mild pain.  *What could cause such?* he wondered, and
immediately turned to see if it was necessary to render any assistance.
He turned just in time to see her skirts billow to the floor, her back
facing him.  He also was just in time to see a flash of the great
purplish bruise that spread all over her torso, lower back, and stomach.
 Concerned, he approached her turned back and spread his fingers over
the now- covered welt.  Alyssa gasped in pain and surprise as the Opera
Ghost pressed one hand to her injury and the other arm encircled her
shoulders.
 "How did you come by this, mademoiselle?" Erik asked softly.
 "I--I f-fell...."
 "Nonsense.  Such a large bruise cannot be got from a fall."  He paused,
reading the signs her body registered.  "Who did this to you?"
 "N-no one--" she hiccuped.
 This upset Erik.  He did NOT being lied to.  He spun Alyssa around to
face him, hands clutching her shoulders, and glared into her trembling
blue eyes.  "Do NOT lie to ME, child!" he roared, "Who did this to
you?!"
 "M-m-my fath-father..." she managed to sob.
 Erik's temper quickly subsided with his surprise, and he realized how
much he had frightened the poor girl.  Ashamed that his wild temper had
yet again gotten away from him, he blushed and released her shoulders,
noticing the white marks his hands had left there.  *More bruises...*
he thought dejectedly.  But there was something that Alyssa had said
that Erik needed clarification on.  "Why would the man who loves you
most do such a thing...?"
 Alyssa lowered her eyes, "He doesn't love me... he never did.  He
OWNEWD Mamma, and when she died..."  She couldn't finish.
 Erik was flabbergasted.  Alyssa's own FATHER didn't love her?  *Why?
She LOOKS just like every other young girl, pretty even.  She
looks....normal.*  Erik's hands stole up to his face.  He ran a gloved
hand over his mask, then with the same hand, touched the warmth of
Alyssa's wet cheek, who lowered her eyes, the tears flowing in twin
rivers.  "I...am sorry."  He said at last, offering her his
handkerchief.
 She only nodded and accepted the rectangle of cloth.  Trembling, she
dabbed at her eyes and clutched the handkerchief tightly.  "Don't be..."
she eventually murmured, "I'm only s-sorry I d-didn't leave s-sooner..."
 Erik was over come with feelings he didn't recognize.  Is this what
they called 'pity' and 'compassion'?  Erik tilted Alyssa's chin up to
stare into her glistening blue eyes.  "I-I know how it feels to
be...rejected."  He admitted haltingly, his usually velvety voice
sounded thin and forced.
 Alyssa looked up at him.  "Oooh, Erik...."  she whispered.  Then she
did something Erik, The Opera Ghost, would never expected in a
millennia.  Some thing he thought no one would ever, ever do.
 Alyssa hugged him.
 She threw her arms around his middle and buried her face in is chest.
Startled, all Erik could do was stand there and stare down at the small
body cuddling his own.  Cautiously, nervously, he folded his own arms
around her.  *Poor child,* he thought, *so lost, so helpless.  Yearning
for guidance.  But is it MY guidance she seeks?*
 Eventually, Alyssa's sobs subsided and she began to pull away from
him.  Erik did not want the warmth of human contact to end, but he was
also anxious and uncomfortable about being this close to anyone.
 For a moment, in the embrace, Alyssa had completely forgotten just who
it was exactly she was seeking comfort in, but the moment she looked up
into his face the stories she had heard about this man came flooding
back to her.  This man was the OPERA GHOST!  A murderer!  A thief!  A
monster!  A-- a man who needs... love.
 Nevertheless, Alyssa recoiled in horror.  *I have been hugging the
Phantom!*
 Erik knew the stamp of fear on Alyssa's face all to well.  She had just
remembered who- rather, WHAT- he was.  Perhaps she was even recalling
the terrible sight of his unmasked face.  Once again, his hands stole up
to the porcelain mask.  The mask.  The only constant in his entire
life.  A symbol of fear, hate, and rejection.  "My earliest
memory..." he whispered to himself.
 "Your what?"
 Erik looked up at Alyssa.  He had said it too loud.  She was staring at
him with more interest now than fear.  "My earliest memory... This. This
mask."
 "I don't understand."
 Erik sighed wearily and flopped down in a nearby chair.  He was
beginning to learn that all of this emotion stuff was very draining.  He
looked up to see Alyssa staring intently at him from across the lavish
room.  Erik had to admit that she did look very lovely in the lilac
stage costume, even though her long chestnut hair was still matted and
flat from her swim from his lake.  Well, he could take care of that!
 Jumping up from his chair, enflamed with a new idea- and turning away
from the painful memories of his childhood- he rushed into his bedroom
and knelt before the giant mahogany chest at the foot of his bed, then
pulled out a soft hair bush with an ornate silver handle.  This had been
a gift to him from the Sultana.  He was about to pull out the matching
hand mirror but dropped it when he remembered that he had shattered the
glass in a fit of rage.
 Erik returned to the sitting room, and approached Alyssa and offered
her the brush.  Hesitantly, she took it, but only stood there, holding
it, bewildered.  Mildly exasperated at the child's reluctance, Erik took
the child by her elbow and forced her to sit down on the couch, brushing
her hair himself.
 "We'll be very happy together?  Do you see?"  He whispered into her ear
with the enthusiasm of a child, the brush zinging through her chestnut
tresses. "I shall take care of you!  You shall be my daughter, and I
shall be your father!  We can live here, if you like...
And I will NEVER hurt you!"  He prattled on like a mindless music box,
"I shall never hurt you...."  he said solemnly. An honored promise, a
covenant.  To never hurt Alyssa the way her father had, the way his own
mother had.  The way EVERYONE had.  The way Christine...
 No.  He blocked that BETRAYER from his mind.  She had taught him love,
yes.  But she had also taught him the intense power of  NEED.  And he
planned to use that knowledge for a better use than pining over
Christine!  He would love Alyssa like the child he could never have had,
the daughter he had always wanted.  At least Fate had granted him that
much.  And she would love him, too, because they NEEDED one another.
 In his mind's eye he saw them walking through a sunlit park, or singing
together around a piano, or... he could even take her to see the opera
in Box 5!  Of course, he would have to show her how to sneak around the
theater unnoticed.  Ooo... the tricks they could play now that there was
two of them!  His mind raced at the possibilities.
 Unfortunately, his train of thought was interrupted by one silent
probing question.
 "What?"  Alyssa whispered in disbelief.
 Erik flew around to the front of the sofa, kneeling by her knees,
grasping her hands in his own. "Don't you see?!" he cried, "We have both
been abandoned!  But together...!  We have found one another, and I will
care for you Alyssa.  I will protect you, and teach you, and you will
sing for me, my dear one, my little one, you will sing!"
   Erik's enthusiasm and sweeping passion frightened Alyssa and she
tried to pull her hands out of his, leaning back away from him on the
couch, but he held her too tightly.  She wasn't sure she understood
completely.  The Phantom wanted her to stay?
 Of course he did.  She knew where he lived, how he lived, and worse
still, what was beneath his mask!  "Am-am I a p-prisoner?" she asked
weakly.
 "What!? Nonononononono!"  Erik was dumbfounded, she thought he was
holding her there?  "Don't you want to stay...?"
 "I-I don't know."  She looked out at the portcullis, "M-my father--"
 "Doesn't love you!  I will! I do!" he cried pitifully, "You're MY
daughter!"
 "No!"
 "No?!"
 "No...You-you're right..." she shook her head, "I have been
abandoned...."  She looked up into his golden eyes, "what do you mean by
'we'?"
 "I don't understand." he admitted, considerably more calm.
 "You said that WE have been abandoned.  How have you...?"
 Erik sank down onto the floor and pressed her hands to his forehead.
"My mother..."  there was a long pause as he sorted out the twisting
emotions.  "She--she never loved me, never.  She ..left me.  Alone.
Outside."  He made Alyssa touch his mask.  "My earliest memory..."
 "Is what?" she encouraged him
 "This.  My mask.  I was in my cradle and she-she...put it on me..."
 "Oh, good God Erik." Alyssa breathed, "How did you ever...?  You poor
thing."
 "I don't want your PITY!" he growled, turning his head away, instantly
mad again.
 "Fine then!" she retaliated, angry and scared of his anger at the same
time.  "You won't have it!!"  She shoved his hands away, knocking Erik
over, and ran over to the portcullis, desperately searching for a way to
squeeze through.  Panicked and unsuccessful, she sank to the cold
pavement.  *I don't want to stay here!  I AM a prisoner and it IS jail!
It's worse than jail!!*  She rested her forehead against the chill metal
bars and began to sob.  She wanted out!
 Thoroughly frightened, she heard the Phantom's foot steps approaching,
his hard heels ringing out against the concrete.  Alyssa turned
glistening, scared eyes up at him, one hand still gripping the gateway.
He glared straight back down at her with glowing golden eyes.
 Erik saw the tears streaming down her already salt-stained cheeks, and
watched as her grip on the portcullis kept tightening and shifting.  He
glowered at her for a long time, then said simply "You can't get out."
He heard Alyssa's pitiful mewling, "You can't get
out anywhere, unless I let you."
 Alyssa closed her eyes against his, unable to stand the intense
PRESSURE of them.  She heard him continue:
 "You have to stay now.  You HAVE to... I can't- can't let you go.
You've... seen me."  He paused, then said "I don't want to hurt you,
Alyssa.  I won't.  Please... please don't make me.
 Upset that he could be so damned polite and scared out of her wits,
Alyssa screamed "Why not?!  Why NOT hurt me ?!? You've killed BEFORE!!
WHY NOT NOW?!?"  Immediately she regretted what she'd said.
 The sheer ARROGANCE of the statement!  Erik's face turned a deep
scarlet and he began to clench and un-clench his fists.  Alyssa emitted
a quick and strangled scream as he pounced on her, his powerful gloved
hands going for her throat.  He threw his entire weight on her, forcing
her down onto the floor.  He would strangle her!  Suffocate her!
Ravage her!!
 Alyssa tried to scream again, but it came out as a wheezy, bubbly
gurgle.  She looked up at the man who was killing her.  And she thought
she would meet her end at the hands of  her father, as her mother had.
Instead it was by a man who said he WANTED to be her father, a man she
could have sworn needed love and companionship of  his own.  A
man who had said he had NEEDED her.
 The pressure of his body increased and Erik tightened his grip.  Alyssa
thought her head would explode.
 Suddenly, Erik let out a strangled shriek of rage and thrust himself
away from Alyssa.  He tottered away from her prone and bruised body and
over to his organ.  He slammed the keys with his fists and a violent
clash of notes poured forth, and Erik ripped at his mask.  He hurled it
out and away from him and it shattered into a thousand
glistening pieces when it finally landed.
 When the ringing of loud music finally faded away, the only sound in
the labyrinth was Erik's wretched and sorry weeping as he sobbed and
shuddered over the split and broken keys.
 Alyssa stared at him in terrified disbelief as he moaned and wailed,
"I'm SO sorry!  Forgive me!  Forgive me, Christine!  I only wanted to
LOVE you!  I wanted YOU to love ME, to bear my child!  Oh, Christine...I
wanted to be a FATHER! ... A FATHER!  ...Your child's father....TO
BE...Alyssa's...father...."
 Quietly shocked, Alyssa crawled foreword painfully and picked up the
largest piece of the shattered mask.  She stood and haltingly approached
Erik at his organ, for the second time in their acquaintance.  She
touched his shoulder gingerly and he started, and she immediately drew
her hand back to rest over her wildly thumping heart.
 Erik looked up at her, not even attempting to cover his mutilated face.
 Alyssa gulped back another scream and forced herself to look at him,
REALLY look at him.  His face wasn't so bad, really.  It was just his
terrible temper.  He had a good heart, and an intelligent mind.  He had
to, to write such beautiful music!  Slowly she extended the hand that
held the piece of  shattered mask.
 Cautiously, Erik accepted it, but Alyssa did not let it go.  Instead
she stepped up onto the platform the organ perched on to look down on
him.  Gently, she placed a kiss on his naked forehead.  "You'll need
this, FATHER.  Maybe even...TWO."

     ***

 "What is it now, Fimin!" M. Andre bellowed.
 "Look, just look!" the other man cried, brandishing yet another from
the elusive Phantom. "He is BACK!"
 "Back?!?  This is NOT what we need right now!  Our soprano is missing,
our diva tenor is dead, our primma donna has just quit, and our patron
has vanished!  And now the Phantom RETURNS!?  Argh!!!"  Andre was near
to tearing out his hair.
 "Yes, returns!"  Fimin quickly continued. "It's signed 'The Opera
GhostS'.  Plural!"
 "Two?"
 "Yes.  The dancers have been saying that the Phantom now has a
companion.  They've seen them him with her."
 "Her?"
 "Yes, and she wears a mask as well!"
 Andre nearly had a cardiac arrest right then and there.
 "They say," Fimin continued, "that Little Meg has heard them singing
together, and has heard him caller her 'DAUGHTER'."
 "WONDERFUL!!!" Andre shouted, stalking out the door, "A Phantom CHILD!"

    The End?