Erik fell asleep again soon enough. When he awoke again, there was a tray lying in wait on the bedside table. The curtains were threw open, revealing the nighttime landscape, and Count von Krolock stood starting out towards it.

 "I was hoping you would awake sooner rather than later," he said. "Tell me, how are you?" He sighed when Erik gave no answer. "I wish you no harm, you know. We could be friends if you be a little more reasonable."

 "If you knew anything about me at all, you would know I am not very reasonable," was Erik's bitter reply.

 "I have already come to that conclusion. Now, eat up."

 Erik shook his head. "I'm not hungry."

 "You should-"

 "I said I don't want it!"

 The Count sighed again. "A mad phantom who acts like a child. Whatever am I to do? If you won't eat, perhaps you can tell me about yourself. I assume you aren't the kind of have had loving parents."

 Erik scoffed. "My parents never loved me. They were ashamed to have a son with a face such as mine. I ran away when I was still rather young, got myself mixed in with some traveling Gypsies. I hated them, but it was from them I learned magic and music."

 "Ah, magic as well. I suppose I should have guessed. It helped you to become the Phantom, didn't it?"

 "Yes, it did. But before that, I went to Persia. I became a favorite in the Sultan's palace. I knew magic, music, architecture. Despite my face, I impressed the Sultan with my knowledge and talent. When I was there, it was the first time in my life where I almost felt...wanted."

 "Hmm. I can only assume you made a mistake."

 "Yes, I did. The Sultan wanted me to design a palace for him to hide his treasure. Once it was done, he ordered my death, so I could never tell. But I escaped. I had befriended a man, the Daroga. He was the head policeman, and he was the first person to truly care for me. He helped me escape, but his paid for it by having to leave Persia for good."

 "And do you still have this friend?" von Krolock asked.

 "No. He died back in Paris. He became very ill, and I couldn't do anything to cure him. I was with him when he died. He told me...he believed I could be a better man. I could be better if only I tried."

 Erik stared up at the ceiling with a distant gaze in his eyes. The Count wondered if he had a fever, or was hallucinating.

 "I think perhaps it is best I don't ask anymore questions," he said. "Try to eat. I shall return."

 The Count left Erik's room and went down the hall, only to hear shouting coming from the dining hall.

 He arrived to find Sarah standing in front of Alfred, as if shielding him, while glaring at Herbert.

 "You're nothing but a scoundrel!" Sarah was yelling at Herbert. "You never leave poor Alfred alone, always trying to get him into your bed."

 "Oh, so I'm the scoundrel around here," Herbert retorted dryly. "What of that father of yours down in the crypt? Do you know that woman Magda is his mistress?"

 "How dare you call my father a scoundrel!"

 "Children!" von Krolock cried. "Please. Stop it."

 "Herbert won't leave Alfred alone," Sarah said. "Can't you make him stop?"

 "No one makes me do anything, little girl," Herbert said to her. "I was simply trying to talk to Alfred."

 "Well, if you were only trying to talk to me," Alfred cut in, "Perhaps I wouldn't have to keep running away from you."

 "That is enough!" The Count slammed his hand down on the table. "I am the master of this house, and what I say goes! Do you understand?"

 Herbert looked surprised by this outburst, while Sarah and Alfred gripped each other by the arm in terror.

 "I think you should both go," Herbert said, ushering the other two towards the door. "Go on, out with you." He closed the doors and turned back to his father. "All right, what's happened?"

 "I have spoken with Erik," the Count said, sitting down in one of the chairs. "He told me of his early life, before his days as the Phantom of the Opera. He is...he's not well."

 "Well, what's wrong with him?"

 "I don't know for certain, but I have an idea. I believe he...has cancer."

 Herbert's eyes widened a little. "But there's no cure for that. We know there isn't. You know-"

 "Yes, I know."

 "Are you going to make him a vampire?"

 The Count nodded. "Yes, I may. I will wait a few more nights, to see if anything changes."

 Herbert looked away uneasily. von Krolock knew he was thinking of his old life, and of the mother he once lost.

 "If Erik does have cancer," he said, "I will turn him. I won't him have the same fate as your mother. I promise."

 Herbert nodded. "If you say so."