I do not own CATS or Phantom of the Opera. I wish… I’m also not making a profit off of this.

The handsome calico tom was ready to pounce when suddenly; a movement caught the corner of his eye. He looked to the right and there, dashing off into the blackness was a cloaked cat. He saw what looked to be a fluffy violet-black tail. Then he saw something else, a sparkle. It wasn’t big, but it was enough to let the tom know that the ‘apparition’ wasn’t just a mangy street cat. They must have been diamonds and the tom knew how to tell diamonds apart from other gems because he had worked with them all of his life. Well… of what life he could remember. Then he saw a glimmer of what he thought was a white mask and a peculiar spicy, wildflower scent wafted towards him as the figure seemed to vanish in mid-air. It was weird. It was as if the scent had some sort of magic in it, but he couldn’t tell. Hell, he was no magic cat so he couldn’t be absolutely sure.

‘Who is that shape in the shadows? Whose is that face in the mask?’

The thought popped into his head and a lilting, haunting tune accompanied it. This thought and many others confused the tom’s mind as he stumbled back to the junkyard in a daze. He approached his box and stumbled in and as soon as he felt the cushions, he fell asleep, very unaware that a pair of deep, bright amethyst eyes watched his every move.