The sudden silence is deafening. An ominous quality to it. Truthfully, the other stage hands are relieved that Buquet finally stopped talking and they can get on with their jobs.

Down on the floor, Jacqueline is struggling to her feet, fearing Joseph will come back at any moment to finish the job. But as she cast her eyes up at the darkened cat walk, her blood runs cold. That pale face, large dark eyes, looming over a black cape...it was the Opera Ghost! Her face drains to pale, frozen to the spot with fear.

She should call out, warn someone...but she cannot.

There had been so much talk about the Ghost but it was one thing to hear about such a creature. Now to see it hovering like Death himself, she was completely petrified. The blood stained handkerchief fluttering to the floor, forgotten as she stood there.