Your shivering began almost immediately after the bucket of icy-cold water was dumped onto you. Your hair and dress were completely soaked and you were freezing. After only a few minutes your teeth began chattering loudly.

"Had enough yet?" Henri asked, a cocky smile on his face. His two friends sat beside him looking equally amused at your distress. You said nothing.

Where was he? You were certain he stalked around the opera house at night, like a cat prowling his territory, and yet he hadn't come to rescue you. A dark, terrifying thought entered your mind. What if he wasn't going to rescue you? What if he knew and he didn't care?

No. That wouldn't be possible right? He had written that letter on your behalf hadn't he? Or maybe he just didn't like the way they behaved in his opera house. Maybe it had nothing to do with you. If you could have sulked in your chair with the way your were tied up, you would have.

"Feeling like baring your soul to us yet?"

If he wasn't going to believe that you were telling the truth about Nicolas's accident, maybe a scare-tactic would work instead.

"Aren't you afraid?" You asked, trying not to let your teeth chatter as you spoke.

"Afraid of what?" He laughed.

"Of him."

"Who? The Phantom? The Opera Ghost?"

Henri jeered and laughed with the two sitting next to him. You were going to have to try a lot harder for this to work.

"He doesn't like when people talk about him, laugh about him. The very mention of his name draws him near."

You wondered then if he had a name, a real name. Phantom wasn't his real name, was it? Henri was still laughing at you.

"He isn't real. You can drop the act. Just tell us the truth."

"I am. You think he isn't listening to us now, watching us? This is his opera house. He knows every secret passage. Every trap door. The rats do not live here without his permission. You do not work here without his allowance. Do not offend that which you don't understand. This is your last warning."

At your threat Henri bolted from his chair, knife in hand, towards you. Even his two friends sitting next to him seemed surprised by his sudden movement. Within seconds he was grasping your face in his hand, a knife to your left cheek. It was only centimeters beneath your eye.

"You know," Henri started. "When I was a young boy, there was a story of this serial killer. Quite a sadistic fellow. He liked to collect girls, pretty girls. But when he found one with a flaw, say, a scar or a mole he didn't like. He'd carve it from their skin."

Henri pressed the knife into your cheek. You stiffened and let loose a very slow breath. Your teeth did not chatter now. You couldn't risk the tiny movement.

"I wonder what you'd look like if he had his way with you. Shall we try to imagine?"

"Henri stop!" The one whose name you couldn't remember said. "This is getting out of hand."

"Sit down, Jacques. And shut your mouth."

You looked at Jacques with pleading eyes. If the Phantom would not save you, maybe he would. He looked away from your gaze, and saying nothing, sat back down. Henri took Jacques complacency as license to continue. He began to press the tip of the knife deeper into your cheek and you cried out in pain. Your tears mixed with the wound and stung. It almost looked as if you were crying tears of blood.

He dragged the knife down your cheekbone and you cried out, "please stop! It hurts, it hurts!"

"How do you think Nicolas felt when you shoved him from the box?"

He dug the knife in again and you cried out in pain. What were you going to do? How long would this last? It hurt and stung and burned.

"I didn't do it! I swear to you on my mothers grave!"

"Wrong answer."

He pressed the blade in again, dragging it further down to your jaw bone. You screamed and cried, thrashing in your bonds at the pain.

"Okay!" You said at last, breathless. "It was me! It was me! I did it. I'm sorry!"

You'd lied of course, but you would do anything to stop the pain in your face, and in your ankles and wrists from the bonds.

"I'm sorry," you repeated. "Just-just let me go and I'll tell Monsieur Martin. I'll let him fire me. I'll pay for his stay at the hospital. I'll do anything, just please, let me go!"

But Henri did not look happy at your admission of guilt. He looked like he was going to kill you. You realized then that you'd made a mistake. Henri wasn't going to let you go either way. This time he raised the knife to your eye and grinned at you. You had started to wonder if he was somehow the sadistic serial killer he'd told you about.

To your right you suddenly heard a soft tapping sound and craned your head to look in its direction. A single pearl bounced from the darkness and settled on the ground, not far from your chair. Henri stalled and pulled the knife away from your eye. A little sliver of hope crawled into your heart.

"Go check it out," he said, looking at Jacques.

Suddenly two rats ran from the darkness, one of them grabbing the little pearl. There was no need for Jacques to check anything out. Your hope was squashed. Crushed. To think you had let yourself believe that maybe he had come for you. You were going to die, you realized then.

"Where were we?"

Henri raised the knife again, looking into your eyes with a sickly smile. You tried to squeeze your eyes shut, not wanting to see the knife as it plunged into your eye socket, but Henri pushed onto your raw wound until your eyes popped open and you cried.

It was then, just as Henri was about to stab your eye, that a single key played from the piano in the orchestra pit. It had only been pressed lightly, but it's note was long and drawn out.

"It's probably the damn raccoon again. Go check it out."

"I don't want to fight that thing again! It was like a raccoon from hell!"

"Go!" Henri glared angrily.

This time Jacques actually went to look for the source of the sound. You said nothing and did not move. It wasn't just a regular piano note. You realized. It's long drawn out key meant that one of the foot pedals was being pressed too, and you didn't think the raccoon could reach both at the same time. He had come at last.

"What are you laughing at?" Henri asked suddenly, stabbing the knife into your shoulder as a show of dominance, of control. You hadn't even realized a small smile had set itself upon your face. It quickly fell from the pain of the knife in your shoulder. He repeated his question and shoved the knife deeper. You cried out in pain and suddenly a great ruckus was heard from the orchestra pit.

André was standing now too, moving slowly towards the orchestra pit. The look on his face said he very much did not want to go in there and tussle with the raccoon, but what he didn't realize was that it wouldn't be a raccoon he fought with.

There was a groan of pain and then a soft cracking noise. Henri looked a bit as if he'd relaxed. Your smile grew again, but faltered a bit with the pain. You did not feel good.

"Did you kill it?" Henri called to Jacques.

"I killed it all right."

It was not Jacques voice that spoke from the orchestra pit, but the Phantom's. It was laced with contempt and loathing. Henri and André looked at each other then, faces pale as corpses. They stepped toward one another quickly, backing away from the edge of the stage where the orchestra pit loomed in the darkness. Henri brandished his knife. They looked terrified.

In one extraordinary swing, a rope was thrown from the pit which landed around André's neck. It was then you realized that it wasn't any ordinary rope. It was a noose. The Phantom pulled and André fell into the orchestra pit with a scream. Within seconds the sound had stopped.

Henri, finding himself the last line of defense, cut you from your chair and held the knife to your throat as the Phantom leapt onto the stage. He looked terrifying then in the stage's half light with a face of pure rage and a cloak of darkness around him. He looked like death itself. Another punjab lasso laid in his hands.

"Let her go and I might consider letting you flee," the Phantom said, beginning to circle Henri like his prey.

"Don't move!" He yelled, pressing the knife harder against your throat. Just a movement more and he would have drawn blood. Henri was pressed against your back, and there was nowhere for you to go. For a moment the Phantom looked alarmed, but he quickly recovered, fury upon his features. You wondered if you'd imagined it.

A sound issued from your right, again in the darkness. Henri glanced to the noise for a second too long, and you ducked. Swinging the lasso-noose, the Phantom took the Chance you'd given him and within seconds, had Henri strangled. Within another few, he'd dropped his body onto the floor, dead.

"Are you alright?" The Phantom asked, not a bit out of breath. You on the other hand, were shivering and shaking and crying all at once.

Before you could think about what you were doing, you crashed into his chest and wrapped your arms around him. Deep sobs wracked your body. You were freezing and you were in pain and you were scared. The shock of the evening had not yet worn off.

After a second of astonishment, or perhaps two, the Phantom finally wrapped his arms around your shivering frame.

"I was s-so scared you weren't going to come," you sobbed, burying your face in his cloak.

"I'm sorry," he said, petting your head awkwardly. "If I'd known I would have been here earlier. I would never have let them hurt you. Never."

Your cries softened a bit but you nevertheless held onto him tightly like a child who'd had a nightmare. Unsure of what to do with you, he swept you into his arms and carried you all the way to your room. Despite the darkness, he knew the way perfectly.

Once you'd reached your room, he set you down slowly onto your bed. You tried to stand again so that you could change but found yourself very dizzy. When you stood again the second time, you managed to grab your nightgown and dry undergarments without falling over. Understanding that you were going to change, he immediately turned around. It took you several tries to get your underwear on without losing balance. When you'd finally gotten dressed, he turned back around. Not knowing what to do, he made for the door.

"No!" You yelled. "Will you... will you please stay until I've fallen asleep? I don't want to be alone."

His gaze softened and he sat delicately down on the edge of bed, trying very hard not to disturb you. You turned down the small oil lamp you had at your bedside and snuggled under the covers. Reaching into the darkness, you fumbled for his gloved hand until he laid it in yours. You gave it a soft squeeze.

"Thank you..." you said, wishing for a name.

As if he'd read your thoughts or sensed your question he replied, "Erik."

You hummed into the darkness, confused by what he'd said.

"My name... is Erik," he repeated, more nervous the second time.

"Thank you, Erik."

You gave his hand a second squeeze and then tucked your hand beneath the covers. Despite the stinging pain in your shoulder, collar and cheek, your extreme dizziness and exhaustion overcame you until you'd fallen into a deep sleep. Erik sat beside you, still marveling over the sound of his name on your lips.