It was the masquerade, the masquerade to celebrate the freedom, release from the phantom ghost that had been terrorizing the opera house for so long.

You were there with you fiancé, you were happy. Despite the fact that you wanted to keep your engagement a secret, your fiancé didn’t want to. He wanted to tell the world. You just hoped your fiancé would pretend to understand in time. But you knew why you couldn’t, not when he still lurked. Bruce Wayne. The Opera Ghost. If he knew…he would be murderously livid for sure.

You listened to the guests as they sang in celebration as you moved to dance with your fiancé. No. Something wasn’t right. You could feel it. He was lurking wasn’t he. Waiting for the right time to come in as if this was some kind of play…that dramatic bastard.

Masquerade. Grinning yellows, spinning reds. And yet…this all felt wrong.

And you were right. Something was wrong. Because as soon as everyone sang the last bit of the song he appeared, dressed as the red death, mask and all. The party went silent, so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

“Why so silent good Messieurs? Did you really think that i had left you for good?” His voice rung out, the deep voice they had grown to fear. And in his hands, a complete copy of his latest composition. Don Juan Triumphant. “Have you missed me, good messieurs? I have written you an opera.”

He stepped down the steps, his footsteps like death itself. “Carlotta must be taught to act. Not her normal trick of strutting around the stage. Our Don Juan must lose some weight It's not healthy in a man of Piangi's age.”

He scanned the room as he continued to speak, his eyes soon landing on you. “As for our star…No doubt she'll do her best. It's true, her voice is good she knows, though. Should she wish to excel she has much still to learn If pride will let her return to me. Her teacher…”

His gaze grew darker “Your chains are still mine. You belong to me!”