• We continued this way for almost three months. Every night, just after midnight, I would battle this living "Phantom". I write his name scornfully, yet truly I think it with fear. The Phantom here at the Opera is a tyrant; the rafters literally rain his demanding notes.

    My teacher hardly utters a word after we strike our initial blows. All the while our swords dance, he keeps an intense gaze on my face. Has he guessed my secret? If he knows I am a woman, would he even bother teaching me?

    "This is our last lesson. Ever," the Phantom said one night, unsheathing his sword and interruping my thoughts.

    "Would you care to explain why?" I asked, lowering my voice to disguise my femininity.

    He smiled, "I have my reasons."

    We circled each other, but, for the first time ever, my heart was not in the fight at all. He quickly deflected my blows, disarmed me, and forced me to kneel before him.

    "You are defeated. I shall take my prize, if you remember our bargain. Your identity belongs to me!" In one fluid movement, using his sword, he cast the mask from my face.

    "I know you," he said startled. "You're the dancer from my opera..."

    "Monseiur," I pleaded, "please, I beg of you, do not let anyone know of my swordplay. It would ruin me--"

    "Good God! My talent was wasted on a dancer!" he cried to the heavens.

    My fear turned to fury at that moment. "Wasted?" I shrieked venomously. Picking up my sword, I lashed at him and, catching him unawares, tore the mask from his face.

    I screamed, then turned away. It was horrible, horrible!... and yet, so beautiful. One half of his face was that of an angel's; perfectly angular, but with a softness in his features. The other half was demonic: the features were widely disproportionate, cruelly twisting the mouth into a sick grin. The black bangs hung limply across his forehead, barely concealing the scar that ran from his temple to his eye.

    "You have seen Erik's face." His voice stung me like ice. "Darkness awaits you; there will be no returning to the light."

    So his name was Erik, was it? And darkness... darkness! He meant to kill me! Send my soul to the perpetual darkness: death itself!

    As a distraction, I threw my sword to the side; my tactic bought me enough time to flee. I had lost my sword, but had won my life. Sprinting down dark alleys, I heard Erik's voice, as if he were standing beside me, though it would be quite impossible:

    "I know who you are now, Gemma Toulee. Make no mistake: I'll be watching."

    The Opera Phantom: Part One

    The Opera Phantom: Part Three

    The Opera Phantom: Part Four

    Part Five