Hybrid of the Opera: Part 2: Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The high-pitched whistle of a train entering its station rang out against the cold air. It stopped once the doors opened, and the dogs inside poured out of it. Among them were Steele de Chagny and his fiancée, having planned days before to go to Perros-de Guirec to get away from the city of Paris.

Jenna would have wished they could have gone on another day, yet she was helpless to but to let her lover go ahead and take her. How could she say no? She always loved visiting their childhood place, taking strolls by the seaside, rolling around in the luscious grass plains with Steele always by her side.

Yet on this day, she wasn’t all too thrilled. She hadn’t gotten much sleep the previous night, tossing and turning in her bed for who knows how long, before finally drifting off. The husky pondered if she could be suffering from insomnia, but she knew this wasn’t the case. Something else was bothering her, something that kept her up at night, her ears twitching and turning at each and every sound that came into them.

Ever since the thought of Balto coming after her --- after what she had done to him, --- she feared for the worst. The last thing she needed to think about was him. She knew this wouldn’t last. There really was no way she’d deny it. She couldn’t keep him out her mind. Just the idea of him stalking her every move, as she went about her day, watching in the shadows and corners of Paris and the Opera Canine, practically chilled her to the bone.

She was apprehensive in telling Steele about this however, for fear he would be upset. She knew the malamute would always disprove of her getting herself riled up over the wolf-dog, knowing full well that he didn’t exactly like him.

I just hope he doesn’t try anything… Jenna thought somberly, for fear that Balto truly might try to cause them harm. Whatever the case was, the husky decided to put the hybrid ghost in the back of her head, as she and Steele departed from the station and down the road towards the small village of Perros de-Guirec.

Steele proposed that they spend a night at the inn Le Soleil Couchant, to which she gladly accepted.

The young Vicomte rented a room for themselves, and the two were lying next to each other on the small bed, doing their best to keep warm from the cold outside. They could see in the now dim candle light, fresh, white snow begin to fall from the sky, slowly caking the ground in a dash of white.

“It’s a good thing we brought our coats,” Steele joked to the husky next to him, “See what I did there? It’s because we’re dogs…and we have…fur…coats.” Steele’s voice began to drop as he could see the husky staring out at the window, not really paying attention to what he was saying. “Hey, you feeling alright Jen?”

The husky turned her chestnut-brown eyes to the malamutes, “I’m sorry Steele, I was just…thinking…”

“Thinking? About what?” Steele grinned slightly, pulling the husky closer to him, “About, oh I don’t know…me perhaps?”

“Not really,” Jenna replied, shifting slightly, “I’ve just had…” She shook her head, “Oh never mind, it’s nothing.”

The malamute snorted, “It better not be about that...Balto.”

The husky didn’t answer. Steele knew exactly what his love was constantly thinking about. He wasn’t dumb, he knew for a fact that Jenna couldn’t keep her mind off the hybrid. He knew this ever since they finally got back together. What he didn’t know, was how she felt about him.

I can’t believe that freak, Steele thought, getting her emotions all tangled up. The malamute didn’t exactly understand what his love was feeling, and this frustrated him to no end. Steele breathed heavily through his nose. He knew better than to be ticked off at his fiance’s current mood, but he just couldn’t grasp what she was thinking. He had tried in vain to ask her what the matter was, but she wouldn’t tell him.

Why doesn’t she just tell me what’s wrong? I thought we were supposed to trust each other. Steele would have questioned himself more, but he decided to put it aside.

Still, he knew he had to somehow put this to rest. And now was a better time than ever.

“Jenna,” He began, almost bluntly, “Tell me, what did you feel for Balto when you were in his lair?”

Jenna snuggled up closely to her love, trying her best to not trouble herself over the malamute’s question. She was almost surprised at how he somehow figured out what she was thinking, but she said nothing of it.

“Well…” Jenna answered, “It was a strange feeling. Like something came over me. I don’t know what it was, but it was feeling I’d never forget.”

Yeah right, Steele thought. He knew that the husky was only trying to cover up her emotions. Yet he still pressed on.

“I was just wondering. You’ve been thinking about him haven’t you?”

Jenna gulped, “No…well I was, but no I…” The husky seemed to stumble over her words, realizing she was figured out.

“Jenna, what have I told you before?” Steele sat up from the bed, “I keep telling you, you need to get rid of that wolf-dog from your head. It’s messing with your mind. All I’m saying is, you just have to let it go.” Steele put his arm around his love, “So, just don’t worry about it, OK?”

“Well, what am I supposed to do?” Jenna also sat up, “How would you feel if you were being stalked by a dog that loves you?”

“Do you love him?” Steele inquired. He had been meaning to ask that question ever since Jenna told him about the sensations she felt whenever she was around the hybrid. She told him she was infatuated, hypnotized, practically seduced by the deformed wolf-dog. He didn’t know if this was because he had some kind of magic spell over her, or if it was out of pure love.

He hoped it wasn’t the latter. He prayed that this hybrid hadn’t somehow poisoned their love, pouring lies into her skull.

Jenna didn’t want to answer. She could feel her stomach turn. She hated that Steele had brought up this conversation in the first place. She didn’t know how to respond.

“Steele, please…” She finally replied, getting up from the bed, “I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Come on, Jen, I want to know,” Steele urged, “What do you feel for him?”

“Why do you care?” Jenna asked, turning to the malamute, “I thought you didn’t like talking about him.”

“I don’t, but…” Steele grumbled, “Look, I just want you to know, that I can’t stand you acting this way. I don’t like that you think of him, I don’t like that you constantly say how much you wanted to be with him, how he’s done so much for you. I can’t stand it!”

Jenna hadn’t known it before, but she knew it then. Steele was no doubt jealous. He may have been handsome to most, stronger and larger than most dogs, and practically polo-pony rich, but nothing could bring him to pure envy than that wolf-dog in the Canine. He hated that he had somehow given Jenna everything that she wanted, everything that she dreamed of. He hated that he could have stolen the bank of Paris for her if he could.

“Steele,” Jenna began, realizing what Steele was feeling, “I didn’t know you felt this way.”

“Well now you know,” Steele responded, “I don’t understand what you see in that freak. Also, you didn’t answer my question, Jen. Do you have feelings for him?”

“If you want to know the truth, that’s the thing that I can’t answer,” Jenna walked over to the window, “I’m confused Steele. I don’t know what to feel.”

“Do you hate him?” Steele asked, getting up from his spot, “I mean, he tried to attack you when you saw how ugly he was.”
“Hate him?” Jenna solemnly, “how can I hate him if he loves me so?”

“Well, what’s the matter with you?” Steele practically exclaimed, “Do you love him, or do you hate him?”

Jenna could tell the malamute was getting upset, “Steele, please, don’t get angry.”

“No, no, I’m fed up with all this!” Steele barked, “I’m tired of that hybrid wanting you! I don’t even know what’s wrong with you. You’re acting like your defending him or something!”

“What?” Jenna was not prepared for Steele’s sudden outburst, “I’m not defending him Steele. You have no right to be acting like this.”

“I have every right!” Steele shouted, “And you know what, I know exactly what you think about him. You love him, don’t you?”

Jenna turned away from the malamute, “Steele…”

“Answer me!” Steele repeated, “Do you love him?”

She turned back around, “No but…no…I…I love you…”

“Do you?” Jenna could hear the crack in his voice. It was almost like Steele was really upset, more so than ever before. She knew there and then that he was actually sincere in was he was asking.

“Steele…” Jenna began, walking up to her love, “I love you, Steele, and you know that…but I…” The husky shuddered, realizing that she was at a loss for words. She couldn’t think, she just couldn’t.

She soon found that she was running, running out of the inn, with Steele’s urgent voice calling after her.






Jenna’s paws pounded against the new-fallen snow as she raced out the inn, her legs taking her somewhere, anywhere. She didn’t know why she was running, but she just had to run. Run from everything, run from her life, run from her love; she just had to get away.

Tears flew past her as she seemed to run into a nearby forest, the trees seeming like dark towers around her. She wasn’t sure where she was, but at that moment, she didn’t care.

The husky could then feel a chill go up her spine, her eyes and ears darting back and forth. Out of the corner of her chestnut-brown eyes she could make out shadows, dark figures begin to surround her, following her every step in the white snow. She continued to run, to try and get away, somehow escape these unknown entities. Was she hallucinating? She didn’t know, and she could feel the shadowy beings getting closer, their yellow eyes never coming off her, never getting out of her sight. She tried to run faster, but she stopped when one of the figures suddenly jumped at her.

She screamed, and covered her eyes, hoping in vain for all this madness to stop. She slunk to the ground, her head in her paws, as she cried softly to herself.

She slowly raised herself off the ground, shaking from the sudden feeling of fear. She tried to get rid of it, but it festered on her brain. She wiped away some of the tears, not sure what to do at that point. The cold wind slowly blew past her as the husky sat in the snow-covered forest.

Suddenly, a sound entered her ears. It started low, and it soon became clear to her that it was off in the distance. It was the sound of a violin, its notes haunting and soft against the cold wind. She slowly raised her head to the sound, almost like she was entranced by it. She had heard that violin, many months before, and every time she came to Perros.

Every time she went to visit her Father’s grave.

She managed to make her way out of the forest despite the darkened sky, and she soon made her way back to the village, but couldn’t bring herself to go back to the inn. The sound of the violin was still resonating in her ears, and it lead her to the Church of Saint-Jacques, where the cemetery is located.

As she passed through the black gate, she noticed that the graveyard was much gloomier than before. The dark clouds covered the moon and stars, creating an eerie feeling all around the cemetery. She shivered slightly, realizing that it wasn’t such a good idea to run outside without her bandanna or coat.

She made her way past the various tombs and stones, all covered in snow. The statues of angels remained motionless, as the wind seemed to stop, and snow began to fall softly, landing on the husky’s rust-colored fur. The sound of the violin was lost as Jenna found her Father’s grave, the statue of the Angel of Music no longer remaining as a symbol for beauty and everlasting love. Now it filled her with dread.

She slowly made her way towards the gravestone, her Father’s name and image embedded forever in the stone. The husky could feel the tears coming to her eyes, as she recited in her mind a small part of a story her Father once told her.

Little Lotte thought of everything…and nothing…Her Father promised her…he promised her that he would send her…the Angel of Music…Jenna sniffled, feeling the tears pour down her face.

“Her Father promised her…” She sobbed, “Her Father…promised her…” She couldn’t hold back anymore. She poured out everything that she was feeling. She didn’t know what to do. All she could do was cry.

“F-Father…” She whimpered, “What am I going to do? I…I don’t know if I can take this anymore. I’m just so afraid…what should I do?”

She stared at the small portrait of her Father, the older brown husky smiling back at his miserable daughter. She couldn’t help but smile back, almost like he was standing right there in front of her, just as he always did. He was always there, no matter where she went, her Father was always by her side. Her Father knew best, her Father loved her more than his violin, and he would give her the world if her could. He filled the hole that her Mother had left, and he made sure she was always happy, always cheerful, and never sad or afraid. His warm smile made her forget the problems of her world, his warm embrace filled her heart with joy, and she never felt any kind of ill feelings when he was around.

It was much different now. She could see the image of her Father on the stone seem to fade away slowly. She reached out with a paw towards it, trying to keep him near her, trying desperately to not let him go away.

“Please…” She sobbed again, “Don’t leave me…I don’t know what to do…not without you.” The image of her Father finally went away, leaving the still black and white image of the brown husky on the stone, unmoving and unreal.

A-At least s-say goodbye…you never got the chance to… She hung her head, watching the tears fall from her nose into the snow beneath her.

The moon cascaded over the cemetery with an almost eerie glow to it, as it waded behind the clouds up above. The husky could see snow fall slowly down from the sky as she entered the graveyard, which was always filled with the ever-present and non-moving statues. Each served its purpose, each holding a monument or tribute to the deceased beneath it.

Her Father, a violinist, had been buried beneath the Angel of Music statue, which once captured the beauty and mystery behind its divine form, it’s wings spread out like an eagle, it’s instrument carefully placed on its hands and arms. Jenna loved this statue, but at that present moment, she felt nothing but dread over it. Knowing all too well who had sought her as her Angel of Music made the young dog shiver.

And yet, even as she stared at her Father’s grave for several minutes, her ears slowly rose as the sound of something---something off in the distance---begin to rise in the silent air. The husky recognized that sound. It was a familiar sound, like a far off memory of her Father performing atop the rooftop of their home in Perros, the very notes emanating from his bow seemed to stop all time and matter.

It began in a soft tone, and it seemed almost familiar to the husky. Almost like this specific melody was known to her. It was enchanting. It had a dark, but sad sound to it. Yet, as she turned to face the old and abandoned crypt behind her, she could sense it all around her. It was the same tune that someone---someone she knew---had played for her as she wandered the darkened graveyard all those months ago.

And from where it was coming from. She approached the crypt, covered with vines and decay, much like some of the other tombs in the cemetery. Her chestnut-brown eyes rose to the roof of the crypt, as she saw a foreboding, yet familiar being glide across the stone parapet.

Balto…She thought, as she saw him gracefully and skillfully strum the bow over the strings of the violin he was wielding, as his form was hidden from sight by his large cloak, cape, and large fedora hat, which seemed to have a few feather’s attached to it.

Then, he sang. Much like when he did behind the walls of the costume room, from behind the mirror and in his lair. Jenna could not help but listen, his voice rising and falling with a kind of gentle depression that teased at her senses.

“Your eyes see but my shadow…my heart is overflowing…” The voice continued. It was filled with a kind of unbridled passion and melancholy she had not heard in so long, “There’s so much you could hope to know…but you’re not content of knowing…tenderly…you could see…my soul…”

He finally ended, stopping his playing, his eyes staring down at the husky, with a sort of tenderness in them.

“Jenna…my dear…” The hybrid said, as he seemed to hover down from his spot on the crypt, down to the top of the stone steps. “I knew you’d come back.”

The husky gave a weak smile, her expression not matching her true feelings. “It’s good to see you again, Balto.” She could make out a cheerful grin come to the hybrid’s face.

“Yes, and I do hope I wasn’t disturbing you,” He responded, “I can see this place is sacred for you.”

“It is,” She replied solemnly. “But, Balto, what are you doing here?”

The hybrid began to approach the husky, but this time, he seemed far more docile that he was previously. Jenna knew this could possibly be an act. But, was this shy, but gentle demeanor truly what he longed for, or was it just a ruse to hide his shattered and deformed mind?

Yet, she accepted this gladly. She was far more happy to see that the masked wolf-dog was back to being the kind and incredible teacher (and friend) that he once was. However, something in the back of her head told her to back away, but she ignored it.

“I wanted to see you, Jenna.” He said, his voice soft like the gentle breeze that passed through them, “We haven’t been able to be together…not since…that day…”

“I know…” The husky replied, “I’ve…” She sighed, “I’ve missed you.”

The hybrid looked at her in surprise, “You missed me? In what way?”

Jenna knew what she was saying. She couldn’t deny it any longer. She had longed to speak with the hybrid, in a normal conversation, like the good friends they once were. She truly wanted to see the hybrid, at least whilst Steele accepted the idea that she no longer cared for him.

But could he tell him that she was afraid? Deep down inside her heart she knew, she knew that she was afraid. It seemed to rise slowly in her gut as she stood there, contemplating on an answer. It would break his heart if she told him what she felt.

If he truly cares for me, then he’d understand…I know he--- The husky’s mind came to halt. She knew this wasn’t the same Balto that she had met before, down in that lair. She knew what she had done, yet she was too afraid to admit it. I have to tell him, she told herself, I just have to…

“Balto…can I tell you something…important?” She inquired.

“Well, yes, go ahead,” The wolf-dog chuckled, “I’m all ears.”

“I’m…” Jenna began, almost biting her tongue, “I’m…” She started to shake, as she tried to find the right words to say. “I’m…not in love with you…”

The hybrid’s large ears seemed to deflate, his eyes doing the same as he slowly looked down, “I see…” He said, “I can see that…but why?” His saddened voice then turned to that of almost desperation, “Why can’t you?”

“Because Balto…” She sighed deeply, “I just can’t love you, and I can’t be with you.”

“But Jenna, I can give you everything you’ve ever wanted. I would rob the bank of Paris for you, make you happiest dog on Earth if I could.”

“Balto, I understand what you mean, but you have to accept the fact that I’ve…” She gulped, “I’ve moved on…I can’t be with you because…I’m afraid…”

The hybrid’s voice fell into some kind of miserable tone, “Afraid…of me…?”

The husky looked at the hybrid with an anxious expression, “Balto, please, you have to understand that I can’t be with you, and Steele. Can’t you see the situation you’ve both put me in? I can’t decide between you, and I can’t give my heart to both of you, because I don’t know if any of this is going to work out…that’s what scares me…” She said, the fear coming into her body, “I just can’t be with you, Balto…I just can’t…”

“But why?” The husky nearly jumped when she saw the hybrid’s expression change to that of sadness, to anger. “Why? Why can’t you be with me? I’ve…I’ve never spoken badly about you, I’ve always done everything for you, and I know you can trust me. I know you can, because I can trust you…or at least I did…”

“Balto, please, just listen to me---,” Jenna began, but Balto stopped her.

“You just couldn’t see, couldn’t you? You’re not afraid of our love, nor are you afraid of losing it…” He then slowly placed his paw on his mask, “You’re just afraid of this…and what lies behind…the kind of monster that you’ve unleashed…”

“I’ve never wanted to hurt you!” The husky cried out, “I’m sorry, OK? I can’t help it. You’ve become a monster, Balto, a cold-hearted monster…I’m not safe around you; can’t you see that?”

The hybrid chuckled darkly, “So, you’d reject me, like all the rest? I’m nothing more than a fiend, aren’t I? A fallen angel? Yet even that enemy of God had friends and companions in his desolation…” He then paused, “…yet I am alone.”

The husky could tell that the hybrid was upset by her words, but before she could do anything, he suddenly moved close to her, causing her to fall on her back.

“Balto, wha---,” She gasped, as the hybrid peered down from her, towering over her like some giant. She knew that what she had done seemed to be causing the deformed creature before her to spiral out of control, his mind slowly giving way to madness.

“I’m not Balto, my dear,” The hybrid grinned his terrible grin, his entire canines shining in the dim moonlight, his eyes almost burning inside their sockets, “I am a fiend, a ghost, a phantom…you want to be afraid of me! You want to be afraid!” He then took hold of her, her large paws grasping front paws, as he pulled her close to him.

“Balto, stop it!” She cried, trying in vain to escape, “What are you doing?”

“Weep for yourself,” The hybrid snickered, “I always thought that there might have been a chance for you to redeem yourself, but now, there’s no chance anymore. You’d leave me, you’d run away from me like the rest of them! I just want to be with you. Forever! A female, such as yourself, that has seen me like this belongs to me! She loves me forever!” He gave a dark laugh, “I’m a kind of Don Juan, don’t you know?”

“Please…” Jenna whimpered, “You can’t do this…”

“I told you that you can never leave me, and you will never go back to that Vicomte!” The hybrid declared, “He doesn’t deserve you! He doesn’t comprehend the kind of love that I hold for you, deep down in my sad, black heart.” She could hear the hurt in his voice, “I just wanted you to see me, Jenna, for me! Just a tiny bit of kindness, a word of sympathy, anything from the dog that I love…” He then smirked at her, as she shook in his grip, “…and now…I shall let you see…that you are still…mine…”

Suddenly, the wolf-dog’s eyes grew wide, as they began to glow that fiery glow, just as he did when he first beckoned to her. Jenna tried to look away, but she couldn’t. They were like candles, gently floating in a darkened hall, illuminating nothing but her, and the hybrid. She began to lose all feeling in her mind, almost like some kind of dark shadow was draped over her body. She soon felt the hybrid’s large cloak wrap itself around her body, as she peered into his eyes. She scarcely breathed, as she seemed frozen in her current state.

“You resist me…” The hybrid’s voice seemed far off, echoing and low, “…yet your soul obeys…”

The husky did not answer, as she felt light-headed. She hadn’t felt these emotions in a while, and she wanted to treasure them, until she heard something, a voice calling to her. A voice, somewhere, inside her mind.

Jenna…Jenna…! The voice called out. The husky blinked, as she heard Steele’s voice, somewhere beyond the darkened graveyard. She gasped as she broke free from her trance, and she soon saw Steele’s form coming towards them, his teeth bared with anger.

“Steele!” She exclaimed, as the hybrid was unable to react, as the malamute shoved him to the ground. Jenna dropped to the snow, as Steele went to her side.

“Jenna, are you OK?” He asked, gently nuzzling the husky. “Did he hurt you?”

“No but---,” Jenna’s words were cut off, as she and her fiancée both looked at the wolf-dog, who was slowly rising to his feet. He seemed to be laughing, his movement jittery, as he turned to face them. Jenna gasped lightly when she saw that the hybrid cackled madly, throwing his head back; his booming voice echoing across the countryside.

“Well, well, well…” He smiled, his eyes wide and unblinking, “I’m so glad you could join us, Monsieur Vicomte. It’s such a pleasure being in your presence.”

The malamute snorted, unperturbed by the hybrid’s words, “I’m not here to play games, freak. Now leave her alone, or I’ll make sure you never touch her again.”

“Funny,” The hybrid giggled, “I was just about to say the same thing. You see, I don’t exactly like you, and just the idea of you taking her, taking her heart away…it truly makes me angry…”

“So what?” Steele responded, “She doesn’t love you, she loves me!”

“Are you sure?” The hybrid eyed at them suspiciously, “Are you certain she is true to you?”

Jenna gulped. “What are you talking about, freak?” Steele inquired

“What I’m saying is,” Balto began to pace slowly, “I don’t think she loves you. How could she? The only who loves you…” He then chuckled darkly again, “…is you…”

The malamute growled in response.

“Oh, did I touch a nerve there, Monsieur?” Balto replied, “I’m sorry, but it’s true. You’re selfish, and you don’t understand that poor Jenna over there just can’t stand you!”

“Maybe we should say the same for you,” Steele began, “Wanna know why Jenna chose me? Because I’ve always been there for her. Yeah, we may not have gotten off on the right track, but you know what, I think I like being with her. She’s sort of grown on me, like a little sister or something.” Jenna almost blushed at that, “But you know why she doesn’t want to be with you? For one thing, you’re deformed, and you’re disgustingly ugly. You’re a completely crazed lunatic who’s practically obsessed with her, trying to woo her with your sweet talk and beautiful voice,” Steele mocked, “And besides, she knows that she loves me, and she doesn’t trust you.”

“Is that all?” The hybrid seemed to yawn, “I’ve heard worse, Monsieur, I’ve heard worse, believe me. But besides that, the point is, I think we should let her decide…what do you say, Monsieur?”

“She doesn’t have to decide,” Steele got in front of the husky, “She’s already made up her mind. Why don’t you get it through that skull of yours? She doesn’t love you! She loves m---,” Steele was abruptly cut off as he nearly dodged some kind of blast of fire coming straight at him.

The hybrid smirked, “You better watch your tongue, Monsieur.” He snarled, “You’re playing with fire now.”

“Alright, that’s it!” The malamute growled, as he took off his dinner jacket, “You wanna fight, then I’ll give you a fight!”

“Very well,” Balto replied, “But don’t expect me to go easy on you…”

Jenna then got in front of her fiancée, “Steele, don’t do this, it’s not worth it.”

“Jenna, I can handle th---WATCH OUT!” He shouted suddenly, as another fireball shot out at them. Steele had to grab Jenna and push her and himself out of the way. The fire ball exploded on one of the nearby tombstones, setting fire to the vines around it.

“Why you…” Steele growled angrily, as he got up and charged straight at the hybrid. He leaped, propelling his powerful legs, lunging at the wolf-dog, who seemed to stand frozen, a smirk plastered on his deformed face.

Steele thought he’d be able to hit his target, but in an instant, the hybrid seemed to vanish into thin air, almost like he’d past threw him, like he was some kind ethereal spirit. He landed on the ground, his nose scraping the snow-covered grass.

He managed to get back up on all fours, as he turned around to face the hybrid, who seemed to still be in the same spot. The malamute was almost stunned. Did he really just pass through him, or was he somehow that fast that he didn’t even see him dodge him?

“It’s always good to have reflexes, Monsieur.” The hybrid teased, “You’ll have to be faster than that.”

The malamute snarled, his teeth bares, as he lunged at the hybrid once more, trying to strike him with his claws. But, to his astonishment, each time he tried to hit him, he seemed to move past each blow. Steele was pretty fast for his size, but it seemed like he wasn’t even fazing this dog. It was almost like he really was a ghost!

Jenna meanwhile watched helplessly as they fought, trying in vain to think of a way to stop them. As she saw Steele attack and swipe, each blow missing its target, she saw that Balto was purposely trying to tire him out, making him get angrier and angrier, until he’d eventually let his guard down. She had to do something.

She sprinted up to the fighting dogs, “That’s enough you two!” She exclaimed, doing her best to try and break them up, by getting in between them.

“Jenna, move out of the way!” Steele barked, “You’re going to get hurt!”

“No, I’d never hurt her Vicomte,” The hybrid said, “Now please, my love, move so I can be rid of this eye-sore.”

“No!” Jenna shot back at the deformed wolf-dog, “I won’t let you hurt him!”

The hybrid sneered, “Fine…that’s fine by me…I will not hurt him…” He then folded his paws, “However, you must decide who you want to be with! It’s up to you, Mademoiselle.”

“Why don’t you just give it a rest?” Steele groaned, “Jenna, come on, don’t listen to him. He’s crazy! You don’t want to be with this lunatic, do you?”

The husky was clearly conflicted. She looked at Steele, then at Balto. She couldn’t decide. What could she do? If she refused Steele, she’d lose the only friend she’d ever had. If she refused Balto, then who knows what could happen. There was no right or wrong answer to this quarrel, no way to escape. She was trapped in the middle. If she chose one, then she’d regret not choosing the other. Both dogs loved her, though both hated each other. One was true, one was noble, yet both truly felt with their hearts, not their minds.

She had to choose. She had to decide now. She bit her lip, as both dogs stared at her, waiting impatiently.

“Jenna, come on!” Steele barked, “Who’s it going to be?”

“Jenna, please, I’ll protect you, I’ll love you forever…” Balto begged, “Don’t go with him…”

The husky knew Steele was the most handsome dog, yet despite his attitude, his heart was in the right place (even though he never really showed it often.) She also knew Balto loved her dearly, possibly far more than any other dog. But the reality of this was that he was clearly unstable and unpredictable, and considering the damage that he’s done, and the state of mind that he was in, it was dangerous to go with him, and equally dangerous to go with Steele.

The husky was nearly at the breaking point, and in swift motion, she quickly turned to Steele and nuzzled him. The malamute wasn’t really surprised by this, but kept quiet as he nuzzled her back.

“N-no…” The hybrid whimpered, his eyes wide with shock. He hadn’t believed it to be true, but it was. Jenna was truly in love with this dog. “N-NO!” He repeated, only this time he bared his feral canines, his yellow eyes burning with a terrifying fury. He felt that pain in his head once more, and he charged at the couple with surprising speed.

The hybrid, now fuming with anger, grabbed hold of the husky’s bandana, and tried to pull her away from the malamute. Jenna was forcibly pulled by her neck fur into the snow, as Balto placed his arm around her throat.  

“Let go of her!” Steele shouted, and he was about to do something, but the hybrid raised a paw.

“Ah, ah, ah…” He snarled, as sick, twisted smile coming to his face, “I wouldn’t try anything, if I were you…not if you want to see your love again!” He cackled as Jenna tried to unloosen her bandana so she could get away, but the wolf-dog held her tightly, preventing her from loosening his grip.

She realized at that moment that Balto was clearly not the same anymore. He had actually tried to hurt her! She wrenched herself from his arm with all her might, and with a quick yet regrettable blow, she slashed the hybrid across his face.

Balto screamed in agony, letting go of the struggling malamute and clutched his face. He began to howl in pain as fresh blood began to seep from his already exposed flesh. The hybrid staggered a few feet away from the couple, and collapsed to the ground, growling and groaning in pain.

Jenna quickly ran over to Steele, and the two hugged, as they both watched the hybrid slowly rise from the ground.

Balto slowly turned around to face them, “Looks like you’ve done, Mademoiselle…” He said in a horrible voice filled with anger, “It seems…you’ve made your choice…” Once he faced them, there was a kind of darkness on his face, as blood slowly dripped down his face, his eyes wide and burning with absolute fury, “However…I will never stop…until you’re mine…you will be mine…and know this, Mademoiselle…” He then let his grin drop to a frown, his eyes squinted, “…it shall be war upon you both…”

Like the Phantom that he was, the hybrid sprinted with surprising speed away from the couple, and disappeared into the darkness of the fog around them. Jenna and Steele also ran the other way, as the terrible laugh of the deformed wolf-dog echoed in their ears.






Madame Aurelia led the Inspector to a small tent, just on the outskirts of Paris in a secluded area near a forest. He had expected the Russian to live in such a place, for if he truly was this secret, he wouldn’t be living anywhere extravagant.

“We are here,” The Box-Keeper said to the Shepard, “I’ll go in first, and let him know you’re here.”

“Are you sure he’d want to speak with me, Mademoiselle?” Jean-Claude wondered, “I don’t think he’d like a police officer visiting his home.”

“Don’t worry, Monsieur,” The Collie replied, “He is a good friend of mine. He’ll understand when you tell him what’s going on.” She then went into the red tent, and after a few minutes, she popped her head back out, “You may come in, Inspector,”

Jean-Claude slowly walked into the tent, and realized how big it was inside. There were candles all about the place, a few carpets on the ground, and a table with a large map on it, with various papers strewn about it. There was what looked like strange nick-knacks around, with crates and barrels around the corners. The Shepard wasn’t really sure what to expect, but noticed that a Russian Goose wearing a small Russian hat, his back turned to the two dogs.

This is him? He thought, how ironic. The then cleared his throat, “Begging your pardon, Monsieur,” He then took off his hat, “I am Inspector Jean-Claude of the Prefecture de Police, and I---,”

“Yes, I know, I know what you’re here for,” The Goose chuckled, his voice old yet cheerful, “You’re here on business, ja? Feel free to look around."

“Well yes, I am,” He sat down on a nearby chair, “But I’m here about…well, let me inform you what I know, and we’ll go from there…um…”

“Boris, now please, go on,” The Goose smiled warmly, as the Inspector told him of his findings. However, as he went on, his smile seemed to fade.

“…and I believe that you know something about him, Monsieur.” Jean-Claude continued, “I am need of your assistance. This dog needs to be stopped, and if you know of a way, then I’ll gladly follow.”

Boris straightened the glasses on his beak, and he calmly responded, “I’m sorry Monsieur, but there’s nothing I can do about him.”

Jean-Claude wasn’t really surprised that he wasn’t so easily convinced, but he had to press on, “Monsieur, at least tell me what you know about him. Madame Aurelia says you’ve known him as a friend, so could you tell me what you know?”

“A friend, Inspector?” The goose chuckled, “He’s no friend…you see, he’s my son.”

The Inspector’s eyes went wide, “What? What do you mean?” The goose then began his story:






Boris had once worked as a private investigator for the Czar of Russia’s police force, and was usually traveling the world. However, it was April, and he was permitted to stay in the Motherland on some business.

Whilst he was on a small stroll in Moscow, he noticed that a large crowd was surrounding a small stage, a freak show of sorts, created by a traveling troupe of gypsies. The leader of the troupe, a pit-bull with a black scarf around his neck, and a scar over one eye, told the audience the show would be starting.

“Ladies and gentledog’s,” He announced, his creepy voice trying to stir up the audience “I am Javert, and I am here to give you a show unlike any that you’ve ever known. I am here to show you the strange and terrible creatures of the world!”

The audience gasped, and they awaited for whatever was to come. The show mostly displayed various animals, mostly of them canines. One dog was missing his front legs, making him walk about on his hind legs. He entertained the cheering audience by balancing on a pole. Another dog, a female, could contort herself into a glass box. Some could blow fire, and some could perform illusions and stunning magical stunts.

However, at the very end, Javert announced that there would be one more attraction, one that would chill the entire audience to the bone.

“Ladies and gentle-dogs, there is but one last attraction, one last spectacle that your eyes must behold. We call it, the Hybrid’s Corpse!”

Some of the audience gasped, excited and thrilled. The pit-bull brought up some of his gypsy friends, carrying a large ebony coffin onto the stage. They placed it upright for all to see.

“Now, ladies and gentle-dogs, behold…the Fallen Angel!” Javert and one of the stagehands pulled open the coffins latches, and inside lay a small dog, with large paws, large ears, dark brown fur, and a black, ebony mask covering his face. His eyes shot open, revealing them to be a bright yellow.

“And now, ladies and gentle-dogs, prepare to be astounded by his glory!” The pit-bull waved a paw, and the dog slowly made his way to the front of the stage, his yellow eyes peering out from behind the ebony mask. All was silent, and then, the dog took a breath, and began to sing:

“Ave Maria, Gratia plena
Dominus tecum                                
Benedicta tu in mulieribus
Et benedictus
Fructus ventris tui, Jesus
Santa Maria, Santa Maria
Ora pro nobis peccatoribus
Nunc et in
Hora mortis nostrae
Ave Maria,” His voice rose in a kind of heavenly gesture, the audience gasping when they heard it. Boris looked about the crowd, and noticed that they were completely silent, stunned by the dog on the stage. His voice was unlike any they had ever heard. It was like an angel had come down to Earth.

“Amen…Am---,” Before the hybrid could finish, Javert came up and pulled off the mask from the young dog’s head. The crowd suddenly cried out in horror as they viewed the terrible and deformed image of the wolf-dog’s skull, which was torn open from its skin and fur, his eyes dark and hollow in their sockets, his nose a cracked hole, and his teeth bare and almost grinning. He tried to hide it with his paws, but Javert grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, holding up the wolf-dog for all to see. The members near the stage almost fainted from shock, with some of the females collapsing from the sight of the creature before them.

“See here, ladies and gentlemen!” He cackled, “The horrible face of the Fallen Angel!” Boris was somewhat disturbed by the behavior that man was showing to the poor dog, who was whimpering, tears forming in his eyes as he dropped to floor, covering his face with his large paws. He felt pity for him, as most of the crowd backed away from the stage, and were soon gone.

The Russian Goose thought he saw the last of the wolf-dog, but no, he did not.

After about a week, he soon read in the papers that the ringleader of the freak show, the gypsy Javert, had somehow been murdered by strangulation, a rope tied around his broken neck. They had suspected it to be the wolf-dog, who had gone missing after the murder. Believing so, they placed a search on him to track him down.

The goose proceeded down a road, by himself no less, taking in the fresh night air, as he did so almost every night, his webbed feet making slight noise against the pavement. However, the stopped, as the sound of a nearby trashcan could be heard rustling in a nearby alleyway.

He had thought of this as a beggar looking for food, or a small rat skittering about the place, but he thought nothing of it as he passed it. However, he couldn’t shake the feeling that perhaps, a certain wanted wolf-dog might be trying to hiding from his sight.

He slowly peered into the alleyway, and saw that behind one of the trash bins, he could make out a somewhat un-brushed tail. He chuckled to himself, and walked over to where the dog was. He looked behind the bin, and found a pair of yellow eyes staring back at him.

“P-Please, I didn’t do it!” The young pup stuttered, “I didn’t kill him, I swear! Please don’t turn me in!”

The goose was unperturbed by this, “Little one, I don’t claim to know if you did kill him, but I do know that a pup such as yourself shouldn’t be out in this cold weather.”

The hybrid seemed somewhat surprised by Boris’s response. He slowly rose to his feet, shaking from the bitter cold, “S-So…y-you’re not going t-to…arrest me…?”

“How do you know that I’m going to arrest you?”

“I c-can s-se-ee, that you’re a-an officer…”

“But, what if I told you that I won’t arrest you…” The goose tilted his head a bit, “…and perhaps that I might…look the other way…and possibly find you shelter…”

“N-no.” The hybrid replied, “I-I mean…no, I don’t need you’re h-help…I’m f-fine on my o-own…”

The Russian shrugged, “Suit yourself,” He left the alley, and continued his walk back to his place, and smiled when he heard the sound of a light footstep just behind him.


The hybrid followed him back to his flat, and after being offered a rather filling supper, he collapsed into a warm bed, the moon lying across his ebony mask. Boris had entered his room to check on him, and smiled at how peaceful he was. Yet, he saw that the mask on his face must have been uncomfortable, and slowly took it off the string that held it to the back of his face.

When he finally took it off, and the terrible, deformed face of death came into view as the moonlight caressed it, the goose was not the least bit alarmed, not like those spectators at the carnival show. He had a look of pity instead, as he saw that the hybrid’s slumbering expression looked like it was not one of death, but filled with all the pain and sorrow of the world.

He put out a wing, and placed it on the hybrid’s head in a comforting manner, but as soon as he did, the yellow eyes of the hybrid suddenly burst open. Upon seeing the goose over him, and his mask removed, he yelped out in fear, and he backed away to the wall, covering his face with his paws.

“Don’t look at me!” The young wolf-dog cried, shaking like a leaf.

“It seems like I already have,” Boris replied, chuckling slightly, “Twice in one month too.”

“You don’t understand!” The hybrid responded, “If you look at me, you’ll die!”

“I will?” The goose exclaimed suddenly. He then felt his face and neck with his wings, then his chest, “Nope, still here.” He said jokingly.

“Please, give me back my mask,” The wolf-dog begged.

“But, why do you have to wear it?” The goose asked, sitting on the bed.

“Because I’m ugly, don’t you see?” The hybrid revealed his face, his voice aching with despair, “I’m nothing more than a rotting corpse, a terrible mass of flesh and blood. I can never be loved, and no one will ever bear to look at me.”

“Who told you that?”

The deformed dog shook, before looking away, “My…mother…” He said softly, “She hated my face. She kept my face hidden, behind this mask, my only gift from her. My father never wanted to see me. He never did see me, in fact. He left me and my mother when I was born, knowing she had given birth to a demon from Hell.” The hybrid began to shake, tears dripping down the exposed flesh on his cheeks, “She never held me, nor did she want me near her. The others in the village we lived in always laughed and attacked me, trying to get rid of me from their sight...”

The goose held out a wing to the young wolf-dog, and he recoiled. Yet, he slowly crawled over to his side, and he held the weeping hybrid his arms. He never left his side all night, not until he knew he was safe.

Over the course of a few days, the goose hid the hybrid from sight, knowing that he was possibly a criminal. He asked the hybrid on how he managed to get to Russia, and he stated that about 2 years ago he ran off from his mother’s house in Alaska, going across the Bering Strait, but before he managed to get to Russia, he was picked up by Javert and his band of gypsies. Not only did they tour Russia, but the hybrid stated that he was a horrible dog. He would always beat him and order him about, calling him names and showing off his deformity to numerous dogs, making them fear him and laugh at him.

He admitted to killing the pit-bull, and was scolded for doing so. He promised that he would never harm anyone ever again.

After about a year, the Russian managed to hide the hybrid from sight, purchasing him a place to stay, where no one would be able to find him. From there the hybrid delved into his passions: music, art, architect, and a like. The Russian soon found that he was a genius amongst dogs, having a voice and mind far greater than any historian or singer. He realized this was the perfect chance to show the country of Russia what he could do.

He went to the Czar, and after managing to get a private audience with him and wolf-dog, he performed various feats of magic and illusion, stunning the Czar so much he granted him admission into his home.

The Russian wasn’t too thrilled about this, and suddenly, he realized, that the hybrid was no longer around. He never really saw him that much, and hadn’t seen him for several years after that. It wasn’t until later that he found out later that he had been hired by the Czar to be a contractor; his private assassin, taking out traitors and thieves, sneaking into warehouses and homes, strangling them in their beds or bathrooms, his skill in illusion easily enticing the Czar, who used it to his benefit.

Boris never saw the hybrid after that, and many years after that as well. He never saw his little wolf-dog ever again…





The Inspector was even more perplexed by this story, more so than Mademoiselle Daae’s story. He didn’t know whether to believe it or deny it. The thought of the criminal he was trying to go after, the feared Opera Ghost of the Opera Canine, was once a sad, lonely creature. He hadn’t the slightest idea if he truly should pity the hybrid, or still wonder if any of this made sense.

He had never known that the Opera Ghost was indeed a tormented pup, and he had never expected him to have such a depressing backstory. Still, there was more he had to know. Despite what the Russian had said, and what the young husky singer had told him, he was still bent on finding him.

And yet…

I…I don’t know what to say, Jean-Claude thought, He was once a lost child, longing to be a part of the world, one that he felt he never belonged in…

Like me…The Shepard realized that he too was once like this. His parents never really were around, and before he became Inspector, he was also a lost young dog, wanting to make it in Paris, to show others what he could do. Even though he managed to make it, this deformed dog never got the chance too. He remained isolated, alone and afraid. He wondered if this is what would have happened to him if he too never became Inspector. Would he too be lost? Would he truly understand the Opera Ghost’s true motive?

He’s doing this for himself…he’s doing this for love…he’s doing this to be accepted, to be seen, to be seen as a good-hearted creature…that’s what he wants, that’s what drives him…and that’s what drives his criminal acts!

“Monsieur, may I ask you something?” Jean-Claude began, putting a claw to his chin.

“Of course, Monsieur,” Boris replied.

“Do you have knowledge of ‘Balto’ being the infamous Opera Ghost?” The Shepard inquired.

“I do,” He replied solemnly, “Aurelia has told me so. I’m just glad that he is safe and sound in one place.”

“Do you know of what he has done, or the crimes that he has committed against the canines of Paris?”

The goose paused for a moment, before sighing, “Yes…unfortunately, I do. That boy has done many terrible things…”

“Yes, he has. As of now I have yet to take action directly against him, and I ask you, as his previous caretaker, to help me catch him.”

The Russian shook his head, “No, I cannot do that, Monsieur. It is out of my wingspan.”

“Please, Monsieur,” The Inspector pleaded, “For all our sakes, you are the only one that can call to him, to somehow draw him out of hiding. You know him better than any other in Paris, and you must help me bring him to justice.”

“Justice?” Boris scoffed, “What justice will you bring him? Lock him up for life? Send him to be hanged?”

“What are you saying, Monsieur?”

“What I mean is, I feel like you don’t understand him, Monsieur. You may not know it, but he is a troubled soul. The things that he has done, aren’t done for his enjoyment. He is scared, he’s afraid of the world, and the dogs that inhabit it. If he could reach out and touch them, instead of hiding in the shadows, none of this would have come to pass. All he’s ever known is pain, suffering, misery, etc. He doesn’t care for life because others denied him that; they denied him happiness. I know you are doing your job, Monsieur, I respect that. It’s clear you are hardened, and clear on what you must do. But please, understand that under that face, under his black mask, behind those eyes lies a good dog, a dog that longs for peace and love, and one that longs to show himself for who he really is.”

“Monsieur, stop defending this dog!” The Inspector barked, “He has caused harm to numerous dogs, murdering several and tormenting hundreds with his acts of violence and terror. He had placed the entirety of Paris in his horrible grip of fear, and I alone must bring him to justice, no matter the cost!” The Shepard sighed, wiping his forehead, “Monsieur, I understand your concern. You have every right, as a father figure to him you must fear for his well-being. It seems I never truly understood of what he once was, but I’m afraid I have no other choice. Balto must be stopped. I cannot afford him to continue his crimes any longer, I’m sorry, but it must be done.”

The Russian fixed his glasses, before sighing again, “Monsieur…” He began, “…do as you wish…”

Jean-Claude nodded in response, “Thank you, Monsieur.” He started to get up, but the Russian placed a wing on his shoulder.

“Monsieur…please be careful, and give my regards to Mademoiselle Daae. Make sure she…and my little wolf-dog will be safe…” He said. The Shepard nodded assuredly, and The Box-Keeper led him out of the tent.

“Are you alright, Monsieur?” The Border collie asked, “You don’t look well.”

“I’m fine, Mademoiselle,” He replied, his previous thoughts, and the Russian’s words still lingering in his head, “I shall take my leave. Good-night,”

The Box-Keeper smiled, but Jean-Claude could tell she was just equally as worried as her feathered friend. As the Inspector sat in his carriage on the ride home, he was deep in thought, pondering what the future of this investigation might bring.