Yes I'm bad. I have way too any unfinished stories. The second part of "a final return" will be up very soon, but I had this idea very late tonight and had to write it.

"Go to the opera."

As Erik settled into the back of the cab, he wiped the tears away from his eyes, straightened his mask and glanced to his side, where Christine sat smiling wickedly at him.

"Did he buy it?" She asked.

"Oh yes. The fool is under the impression that I am going to die." He scoffed. "I did an incredible job at convincing him, even if I do say so myself." He grinned back at her. "No one will ever find us now, seeing as I am supposedly dead."

"What is the plan then, my love?" Christine asked as she leaned in to kiss him.

"Back to the opera of course, and then I think we should head north." Erik smiled at the look of joy on Christine's face at this news. "I know you have always wished to go back to Sweden." This earned Erik another kiss.

As the cab drove away the Persian glanced out of his window, feeling a stab of pity for poor unhappy Erik, for he knew this would be the last time he would see him. Three weeks later, the Époque published this advertisement. "Erik is dead."