You were the Phantom of the Opera's obsession. Erik, the masked man who lived under the Opera house where you worked had taken you as his muse and wanted to marry you. And it was ruining your life...He was terrifying. His face was deformed and you felt immense pity for him of course...but he was also a murderer! He had a torture chamber in his home! He snapped and threatened you at the slightest thing. It wasn't his face that scared you it was his heart...

You thought you saw him everywhere. Every shadow in the wings, every whisper, every flicker of a candle was the Opera Ghost come back to drag you back to his lair underground...

You were beyond paranoid at the annual masked ball. Everyone wore a mask here...He could be anywhere. You got so overwhelmed you fled up to the roof for fresh air and quiet hoping you were safe there...When you came back down after collecting yourself you started down a hall back to the party...And a steady hand gently touched your shoulder.

"I'd advise against that, Madame." A low, properly accented voice says. You whirl around and see the infamous Persian. A man who clung to the shadows of the Opera house. He had a fine box and often came to parties but kept to himself mostly. He was very elegant and handsome, considered exotic here in Paris but he was so reserved it made him mysterious. He was only ever called the Persian or Daroga...The police chief. Nobody quite knew what he was doing here but nobody wanted to tell him to leave either. He caused no harm...Even intervened to help on occasions like this.

"He's down there. He's at the ball in his Red Death costume right now, stalking abroad." The Daroga says. He shakes his head. "If you wish to avoid him let us go the other way."