She arrived on Earth in a mysterious Symbio-Ship with false
memories and awesome powers and abilities beyond that of mortal men and women....

Halloween Special #1

The Phantom of the Oasis

Written By Paul Daimler

*This story takes place between Power Girl Issue 7 and 8.

Prologue: The Oasis Theater, Century City, 1963

Camilla Lind sat at the vanity, touching up her make-up. She was a striking woman normally, with dark hair and deep olive skin. But tonight, she was radiant. Her dark ebony hair was hidden beneath a massive white wig, large and buoyant, harkening back to the Victorian age. She powdered cautiously around the cameo around her neck, careful not to get any powder on the black bands holding the delicate item in place. She ran through her second act lines in her head, her dark red lips moving soundlessly as she did so.

She stared intently at her reflection, gazing into her own eyes and watching her facial expressions as she ran through the lines. She could hear the orchestra out in the theater, even from way back here at the back of the theater in her dressing room. The swelling music helped ease the transition from the first act to the second.

Camilla put the powder down, reaching for lipstick. A bit had flaked off, and she wanted a nice fresh coat.

Rising from the shadows clinging to the walls behind her, a form began to take shape. Camilla noticed it almost immediately as a round-ish white face appeared from the darkness and she could hear the swishing of the heavy fabric of the robes swallowing that white face.

"Who are you?" Camilla said, feel a chill slither down her spine. She looked at the white moonish face in the mirror as it grew closer behind her. It was a mask, she could see, white and colorless, with dark eye slits and holes for the nose and a small sliver at the lips. It was smooth and gleamed in the light from the bulbs lining the mirror on the vanity. She could see no eyes within the dark eye slits.

No answer came, even as the masked form drew closer.

The chill making her blood turn cold, Camilla turned in her chair, her body tensing.

"You're starting to scare me." Camilla said, gripping the chair tightly with both hands, the blood going out of them until her knuckles were white.

From the flowing robes, a black gloved hand lifted the mask, revealing the face beneath.

The tension in her body turned from fear to anger, as her expression became quite furious.

"What are you doing in here?" Camilla demanded, she rose from her chair. Her hands clenched into fists. "You need to leave. I don't know how you got in here, but you need to leave… NOW!" She pointed toward the door.

There was a flash of steel as the butcher knife was revealed from where it had been hidden by the oversized robe.

"No." Camilla's voice was filled with dread. The color drained beneath heavy stage make-up pancaked on thickly. The rouge on her cheeks and her lipstick appeared garish as her face turned a deep sickly gray. The white wig on her head seemed to weigh her down, making her feet and ankles weak.

She tried to go for the door, but before she'd moved an inch, the blade plunged down, tearing through flesh and burying it's self into her bosom.

Screams echoed down the dark dimly lit corridor beyond her dressing room. People came running, their foot fall thundering along ancient hardwood. The first to reach Camilla's dressing room was her understudy Bianca Bloom. Bianca threw the door open, rushing in, a stage manager and the prop girl right behind her.

All three stood, frozen, their eyes filled with terror.

Hovering above the ruined bloody body of Camilla was a dark robed figure with a bright white face, an ancient top hat atop it's head, pulling a butcher knife from Camilla. The white face looked directly at them, dark hidden eyes meeting with Bianca's as time stopped around them.

Bianca Bloom's hand fluttered to her throat, and she felt a scream rising.

By the time Bianca's scream tore loose, the man had disappeared into the shadows at the back of Camilla's dressing room, as if he'd never been there.

"Hollywood is abuzz with news of next week's opening of world-famous stage director and playwright Walter Covington's newest play 'Tiger Lily' in Century City, starring his lifelong friend and fellow Century City native Gabrielle Cabrini at the Oasis Theater. What is a Hollywood actress and Broadway's newest favorite doing opening a play in Century City? Both state it's part of a desire for them to give back to their childhood home."

Karen Starr looked up from the finance reports she'd brought home, and her left hand that had been scratching the scruff of her cat's neck stopped.

"She would have to be from Century City," Karen said, looking at the footage of Gabrielle Cabrini on the television screen. Gabrielle Cabrini was a beautiful buxom woman with long dark hair and a distinctive mole on her left cheek. That mole was probably just as famous as Gabrielle. "Of all the cities for her to be from… and of all the cities for her to give back to…" Karen shook her head.

"The opening is a part of a new campaign to revitalize Century City's Amsterdam Art District. Once the jewel of Century City, it's been replaced by newer and trendy neighborhoods over the last fifteen years. The Amsterdam District was once the place to go for art, for the theater, for live music, for anything creative. From the 1930's to the mid-1970's this was the place to be. Many feel it's fall from greatness began in 1963. This is the third attempt to re-launch the Oasis Theater, which is considered the centerpiece of the Amsterdam District."

Across the screen flashed the theater, a classic looking building with a massive marquee and old style box-office. The buildings around it looked as though they'd all recently gotten a fresh coat of paint, although they all looked like they dated back to the 1920's.

"It was at this very theater, in 1963 during a very successful run of the classic play 'The Victorian' that stage and film star Camilla Lind was murdered. During the final week of performances, she was brutally stabbed to death in her own dressing room between acts."

The screen filled with a black-and-white headshot of Camilla Lind. Karen had never heard of the actress before, but instantly she marveled at the resemblance between Camilla and Gabrielle Cabrini.

"Interestingly enough, Camilla Lind is the grand-mother of actress Gabrielle Cabrini. While Gabrielle has released a press release about her taking on the lead role in 'Tiger Lily' for the first four weeks of the play's run, she has not mentioned her grandmother's murder here all those years ago. Or of the other attempts to re-open the Oasis Theater, each one ending in murder and death as well. All attributed to the Phantom of the Oasis."

The camera cut back to the newscaster, her grim expression as she said, "We will be presenting a special report on the Phantom of the Oasis and the unsolved murders Friday night during the ten o'clock news. So join us then."

Her expression went from grim to cheerful as she was replaced by the opening music of the Tonight Show's theme.

On cue, the phone began to ring.

Creaky made a displeased sound that bordered on a hiss as Karen got up from the couch and made her way to the phone. She wasn't sure how she knew, but she knew who it was even before she saw the name on the caller ID.

"Hey, Andrew." Karen said, forcing cheer even though the last person she wanted to hear from was her ex-boyfriend and newlywed husband of actress Gabrielle Cabrini. "How are you?"

"How did you know it was me?" Andrew sounded mildly surprised.

"Caller ID." Karen replied, "It is only a couple decades old. What brings me the pleasure of your call tonight?"

"Well, honestly Karen. I need your help. Or more precisely I need Power Girl's help. Do you think you could set up a meeting for us with her?"

"Who is us?" Karen asked, nervously fidgeting as she stood, her eyes on the TV screen.

"Gabrielle and I."

"I suppose I could arrange that. Where should she meet you?" Karen asked, as she used her x-ray vision to read through the appointment book sitting on the kitchen counter with her purse, to-do-list, and her lunch pack from today.

"How about Luigi's. It's a nice Italian restaurant in the Mayflower District." Andrew sounded nervously. Karen could hear it in his voice. She didn't need her super-hearing for that.

"I know where it is." Karen said, "You two are already in Century City? I didn't think her play opened yet."

"We've been here for three weeks for rehearsals." Andrew sounded even more uncomfortable.

"That must be difficult for you. You were based at channel 7 in San Francisco last time we talked." Karen's voice remained level.

"Well, actually, I'm here in Century City. I'll be started as an on-air personality for channel 9 in about a month. It's just under wraps for the time. My contract with Channel 7 doesn't end officially until next week, and I'm not going to make any announcements before then." Andrew said, then "Is there a way that Power Girl could meet with us there tomorrow?"

Karen looked at her appointments, knowing that most of them could not be moved. She'd gotten way behind when her powers had been cutting out and while dealing with a super-cat and an assassin trying to kill the Ambassador-not to mention a trip into space and to the Dawn of Time. It was going to be tricky.

"Power Girl is pretty tied up tomorrow." Karen said, "But, I think that she could probably meet you guys around 2 pm tomorrow and spend about an hour."

"That will work." Andrew said. "Thanks Karen. I'll see-I'll talk to you later."

"Sure thing." Karen said, but Andrew Vinson had already hung up.

She looked at the phone, wondering why she was suddenly filled with an intense feeling of dread.

The chandelier sent pebbles of white light sparkling down onto the marble floor of the entrance, which for tonight was doubling as the ballroom and reception area. It was a massive room and right now it was filled to capacity.

From the balcony on the third floor, Delayne Cooper-Riley sipped her champagne and marveled at the turn-out. This party was a smashing success. Everyone who was anyone in Century City was here, along with assorted celebrities and well-to-do's from as far off as Metropolis, Gotham City, New York City, and Boston.

"Nice turn-out Delayne." Roger Baltos said, coming up beside her. "I think opening night is going well. According to the box office we completely sold-out tonight. They were turning people away, and have sold out all shows through the end of the month, and are close to selling out through the end of next month. Great job."

"Thank you." Delayne smiled, plucking a hors d'oeuvre from a platter a waiter was walking by with. "It wasn't easy. The murder and stupid Phantom legend made it a tough sale." Delayne laughed darkly, "As though that story could even be true. It's quite obviously a rip off of the Phantom of the Opera."

"Well, it's true that Camilla was murdered by a man in a mask." Roger replied, sipping a gin and tonic. "But, everyone knows who it was. It doesn't take a rocket scientist. Nor does it make sense that it was some 'Phantom' who haunts the Oasis Theater. But, people are superstitious and illogical too often."

"Speaking of illogical…" Delayne said, "Have you spoken to Walter yet?"

"Yes." Roger replied, his smile faltering. "As the Office Manager I fired him. He wasn't pleased."

"Well, I haven't been pleased with his shoddy performance these past few months myself. And, his behavior last week with Allison…" Delayne shook her head. "Personally, I think she overreacted. You know how actresses can be. But, she's a draw. And she is famous. I can't have her leave the play. She's pivotal to it's success."

"It was the right decision Delayne." Roger said, "It just stinks."

"It does."

The two of the lapsed into silence, interrupted by the arrival of someone wearing dark flowing robes and a white mask with a top hat on top.

The person regarded them briefly, the smooth mask covering all of the person's features. Dark soulless eyes peered out from the eye holes of the mask.

"That's not funny." Roger barked, "Get out of that costume!"

The person said nothing, only continuing to look at Delayne and Roger.

People on the balcony had stopped to look at the commotion.

"I don't know who you are, but that costume is inappropriate, and further more-" Delayne started. She froze mid-sentence when the Phantom opened his robe and removed a large sword with a bone handle. The hilt was decorated with what looked like animal skulls.

"What are you doing?" Delayne gasped.

The music had stopped and everyone in the theater's entrance had stopped and were looking up at the scene unfolding on the balcony.

Delayne took a step back too late.

The sword very neatly loped her head off, blood sprayed Roger. Before the man realized what was happening, his head joined Delayne's on the deep red carpeting.

People began to run and hysterical screams punctuated the air. The Phantom turned and with a deft flick of the wrist sent the sword hurtling through the air to the ropes and chains holding the massive chandelier in place. The razor sharp blade pierced the ropes and the snapped one of the chains.

The chandelier came crashing down on the people on the dance floor below, crushing nearly forty people at once. None of who would survive.

"The Oasis is mine!" The Phantom said, standing on the balcony, triumphant even as people fled in all directions. "Tell the world not to come back here! Tell the world that this theater is cursed and any who enter will die!" He laughed horribly, diabolically before melting into the crowd.

"The reservation is under Andrew Vinson." Power Girl smiled pleasantly to the hostess.

"The rest of your party is already here," The hostess smiled back, "Follow me."

Power Girl followed the woman, feeling self-conscious in her uniform. She wondered if maybe she should have worn the yellow and white jumpsuit she'd worn a few weeks ago when her powers had been going in and out. Her legs were exposed, the chest area had the cut-out… she was wearing a red cape for crying out loud. This was not inconspicuous.

Of course, she reasoned, she was joining one of the most famous actresses in the world and her nationally known anchor husband for lunch in one of the most exclusive restaurants in Century City. She didn't stand out that much, and it was better to show up as Power Girl than in her secret identity. She didn't know that she wanted Gabrielle Cabrini to know that Power Girl was CEO of Starrware Karen Starr.

Andrew rose as Power Girl arrived, although Gabrielle did not. Power Girl noticed that the actress looked less than thrilled, even with big dark glasses covering her eyes.

"K-" Andrew caught himself, quickly greeting, "Power Girl. Thank you for joining us."

"Andrew." Power Girl nodded, "Ms. Cabrini."

Gabrielle Cabrini removed her glasses and for the first time Power Girl caught glimpse of the woman without the make-up and lighting that always bathed her on TV and in movies. Power Girl was able to suppress her gasp, but she could tell by Gabrielle's expression that Gabrielle was aware that Power Girl had noticed.

With a tense smile, Gabrielle said, "So, I suppose you have noticed the resemblance we share."

Power Girl took her seat, her eyes trained upon Gabrielle. "Yes, there is a slight resemblance I suppose… although obvious differences."

"Hair color, skin tone, and my mole are not true differences." Gabrielle replied, looking at Andrew who was looking at the table top looking uncomfortable, unable to meet either woman's eyes or face. "I suppose you have never noticed this before?"

"Not really. You look… different in the movies and on TV." Power Girl said, looking at Andrew who was still not looking at anyone.

When he had broken up with her all those years ago, he had said it was because her super-hero life was too much for him. He could take knowing that she was in constant danger, that the next battle might be the one that she never came home from. It had been after the Crisis, like everything else that had gone wrong in her early twenties had been, and she'd been recovering from her injuries and reeling from the fact that she didn't belong to the Superman Family and that she was now some long-lost Atlantean princess, and when things were so confused and mixed-up, Andrew had told her that he couldn't do it anymore. What made it most upsetting to Power Girl was that she had been at a place, especially with Barbara crippled by the Joker, that she wasn't sure that she wanted to be a hero any more. She had been considering settling down and just being Karen Starr for awhile, and that plan had heavily involved Andrew Vinson. Of course, him dumping her had only caused her to throw herself into her super-hero career that much more, and ultimately, it had been what was best for her.

Andrew had met Gabrielle Cabrini, then an up-and-coming actress while she was filming a movie on location in San Francisco. The tabloids had been full of stories of Andrew and Gabrielle's whirlwind courtship and sudden marriage. For the past few years, the tabloids were always predicting that their marriage was on the rocks. Gabrielle spent most of her time in Los Angeles working in film and television, and Andrew spent most of his time in San Francisco where he was the city's top news anchor and investigative reporter. And on more than one occasion, the tabloids had linked Power Girl as the reason for the trouble in their marriage-even though Power Girl and Andrew hadn't spoken more than a few words to each other in the time since their break-up. It had been way too awkward for her, especially since she mostly wanted to rip his head off and toss his body over the Golden Gate Bridge.

But, none of the tabloids had ever mentioned the striking resemblance between Gabrielle Cabrini and Power Girl.

"I didn't notice at first either." Gabrielle said finally, "Most photographs of you seem to focus on your… figure."

Power Girl not liking the dig, replied, "And most of yours focus on your mole. And, now before this turns into a cat-fight for the tabloids, as though they aren't going to love that we're all at a table together looking incredibly uncomfortable, what can I do for you? Andrew said you needed help."

"I'm not sure that we need your help." Gabrielle sniffed, flipping her long ebony hair over her shoulder. "Andrew seems to put a lot of faith in you and your ability to help us. Although, I personally think we'd have been better off with Supergirl."

Power Girl decided to let that dig go, "So, what seems to be the problem, Andrew?"

Andrew removed a bundle of letters from his brief case, tossing them on to the table. "Gabrielle has been receiving death threats."

Power Girl picked up the bundle of letters. "Isn't this a matter better suited to the police? No offense, but stalkers aren't necessarily up my alley. Unless they're from outer space or from the distant past. Or maybe if it's a Lord of Chaos or Order gone mad."

"They claim to be from the Phantom of the Oasis." Andrew said.

Power Girl laughed, not meaning to. "The Phantom of the Oasis? Rao and Arion help me. The Phantom of the Oasis is merely an urban legend. You're an investigative journalist, surely you know that."

"I am an investigative journalist." Andrew sniffed, looking deflated. "And I have investigated. Gabrielle's grandmother was killed in 1963 by the Phantom of the Oasis."

"I read a book about the Phantom murders." Power Girl said, "It was only a disgruntled former lover and co-star disguised as the phantom who murdered her. He disappeared into the sewer systems under Century City. They found his body in one of the chambers down there several years later. He'd been dead they reasoned since not long after the murder. The next murders, at the gala re-opening party in 1976, were perpetrated by a disgruntled former employee who had been fired for harassing an actress at the Oasis. He killed the Head of Staff and the Theater Director before killing over a dozen more by bringing down the chandelier. And, then the murders ten years ago were by a disgruntled neighbor who resented that the theater was being reopened and bringing heightened police presence in the neighborhood-endangering his prostitution and drug racket. He was killed in a shoot-out with the police."

"Those are only theories." Andrew said levely, "There was never any concrete evidence that any of those people were responsible for the murders. It was all circumstantial, and the Century City Homicide department still have all three cases open and listed as unsolved. The only one of the suspects who had any interaction with any one after the murders was Victor Denning, the guy who died in the shoot-out. There are police tapes of his conversation with them over the phone where he claimed innocence and said that there was something evil living in the sewers beneath the Oasis Theater. Something that was responsible for the murders and called it's self the Phantom of the Oasis."

"And, the later autopsy revealed that his body was flooded with cocaine, angel dust, LSD, and alcohol. If he hadn't died in the shoot-out, he would have died of an over-dose. And, all of those substances can create hallucinations and delusions on their own, combined in a lethal dose as they were," Power Girl shook her head, "He could have seen the Psycho-Pirate doing the Macarena with Peter Pan and Little Bo Peep."

"Why are you discounting the possibility that there could be something supernatural involved? You who claim to be a survivor of a land that disappeared into the ocean thousands of years ago… You claim to have met gods and goddesses, people claiming to be embodiments of Order and Chaos. You're Superman's cousin for god's sake." Andrew was becoming vehement.

"His very distant cousin." Power Girl corrected. "OK. Say I believe you. Say that there is something supernatural haunting the Oasis Theater responsible for murdering all of these people. Why would it be sending Gabrielle threatening letters? It doesn't really match the M.O. of the previous murders. There were no letters sent to warn people that something would go wrong at the Oasis previously."

"I don't know." Andrew said, sounding weary. "That's why I called you. You have more experience with this sort of thing than I do."

"Actually, Gabrielle was right. This is more up Supergirl's alley these days. She is good at handling these sort of creepy supernatural threats. I'm more of a cosmic, mystic, and idiot super-villain sort of hero." Power Girl said, "I'm not sure I'd even know where to start."

"Will you help?"

Gabrielle's voice was frail and afraid. It startled Power Girl and she realized that Gabrielle's snide attitude earlier had been the woman trying to mask a legitimate fear. Her grandmother, Camilla Lind, had died in the Oasis Theater at the hands of someone claiming to be the Phantom of the Oasis. Now, all these years later, some one was sending her threatening letters claiming to be the Phantom of the Oasis. Power Girl tried to distance herself from the fact that Andrew Vinson was married to this woman. Andrew Vinson the only man who had ever gotten close enough to her to break her heart. Andrew Vinson the only man that Power Girl could have ever claimed to have loved. The man she still secretly carried a torch for. If this was some woman off the street, or a friend of Barbara or Linda or Kal-hell, if this was Bruce or Diana, Power Girl would not have even let the questioning go this far. She would have been on-board from the moment that help was requested. It wouldn't have taken a debate or a second request.

"Of course I will." Power Girl said, feeling like a heel. "Let me take these letters with me and I'm going to do some research. I'll meet you guys at Abner's Pizza on 27th tonight at 8:00pm."

"Aren't you going to have lunch?" Andrew said, standing as Power Girl stood.

"Nope. I have to get back to work and I need to look into this case." Power Girl said.

"I have a file here." Andrew said, pulling several thick cumbersome manila folder filled with clippings and documents, all clipped and rubber banded into a thick pile.

"That's OK. I'm going to consult an Oracle." Power Girl smiled, "It was lovely to meet you Gabrielle. I'll see you tonight."

Power Girl left the restaurant in a hurry, flying into the sky, leaving Andrew Vinson and his wife behind in their awkward silence.

Interlude: The Oasis Theater, Century City, Ten Years Ago

Melody Scott was cranky. It had been a long day of rehearsals and an even longer night of them. The cast was just not gelling, and personally, she had no chemistry with her leading man. Although the Sigmund the director insisted it was because her leading man didn't like women, Melody thought it had more to do with her leading man being totally coked out. Melody had worked with lots of closeted leading men, and there had never been a chemistry issue. In fact, most of the guys she worked with in that predicament told her that she was the easiest leading lady they'd worked with in their careers.

Nope. It was definitely not his preferences and more about the drugs.

A bead of sweat formed on her forehead, the lights above growing brighter and warmer the longer this day drug on. She was beginning to think that this entire production was cursed, especially since this was "The" Oasis Theater. When she had told her acting coach that she had been cast as a lead in a play, her coach had instantly asked where. Melody had said without missing a beat, "The Oasis Theater." And of course her coach's expression had grown grim and horrified. Then Blaine, her acting coach, had explained the whole sordid drama.

"But that was years ago," Melody had said. But, Blaine had merely replied, "Ghosts don't pay attention to the passage of time sweetie. It's cursed. You're doomed if you take that part."

But, it was work. And it paid. A lot better than her job waiting tables at the Waffle House on Highway 98. No one wanted to take the job at the Oasis Theater, and it made the people determined to re-open it a lot more desperate. And desperate people often threw more money at problems. Which Melody was pleased about. If she were smart and frugal, she would have enough by the time the play closed to live comfortably for a year without having to take a crappy job waitressing. And with the film industry suddenly doing more productions in Century City and casting extras and bit parts locally to get better prices from the City with locations, that could be a lucrative year Melody could devote to actually working.

Right now though, her carefully laid plans only made her want to scream. It was hot. It was late. And her leading man, the only male actor who would take the role at the "Cursed" theater, was so high that he couldn't focus his eyes, much less act out a scene or get the blocking down. It made Melody want to scream.

Standing there under the lights, she watched her leading man Johnny Stephens as tried not to trip over the furniture. She opened her mouth to say something to Sigmund, when she saw something floating in the darkness of the side stage, dancing it seemed between the curtains.

It looked like a small oval-shaped moon.

Melody stood very still, transfixed by the moon as it came closer and closer, stepping from the swirling curtains of the side stage. It's body appeared to be made of curtains; it took a minute or two for her to register that in fact it was just a black robe. By that point, she had also noticed a top hat and the fact it was clutching a huge double-bladed axe.

By the time she realized what was happening, the axe was already imbedded in the back of Johnny's skull and he had fallen to the ground in a shower of blood.

She started screaming at the same time others in the theater started screaming. She could hear Sigmund out in the auditorium, his cries of terror echoing horribly through the cavernous room. She could hear people running backstage, but Melody could not move. She stood there, watching as the dancing moon came closer and closer, until it was face to face with her. She could now recognize it as a mask, and dark soulless eyes peered out from them.

"I told your director not to come." The thing said, his voice full of gravel and grit. "He didn't listen to me."

Melody felt a scream building deep inside, growing in force and velocity, slowly creeping it's way up from the pit of her stomach.

"Six people have died tonight," The thing continued, "But, you… I will let you live. I want you to tell the people out there, tell the people of the world, not to come back to this theater. Tell them that this is my place, and no one may enter."

Melody felt the scream coming closer and closer, but her jaw refused to move. It was stuck, clenched in mortal fear.

"Tell the people of the world, that this theater is forever cursed. Any who enter are doomed. And they shall all die at the hands of the Phantom of the Oasis." The thing stood for several moments, before a hand reached out and stroked Melody's cheek lovingly. It then turned and fled, disappearing back into the shadowy curtains of the side stage.

Just before it disappeared completely, the moon turned back and said, it's voice echoing and carrying back to Melody like a ghostly wind, "All who enter are doomed…."

The scream burst free from Melody's lips, shaking the theater to it's core. By the time Melody finally stopped screaming and had ran across the empty auditorium to the doors to the main reception area and the doors to freedom that waited there, there were flashing police lights dancing across the room like a strobe.

Floating above the city, Power Girl looked down at the Oasis Theater just as the sun set behind the horizon bathing the city in gold and red light as night slowly shuffled toward Century City. She'd had a long afternoon of meetings with various department heads and with a new client that wanted Starrware to produce several software tie-ins to his company's new movie. Power Girl was happy about the deal shaping up, because the client wanted several educational software games in addition to the typical video games.

But, right now, her focus was on the Oasis Theater.

"So, what have you got for me?" Power Girl asked as her earring transmitter crackled to life.

"Not much concrete PeeGee." Oracle said, "Just a lot of local legends, myths, and unproved theories. Even the Century City Police Department's files are pretty much full of crap. And, as far as their various suspects the evidence is dubious and circumstantial at best."

"Any chances that there is a supernatural presence at work here?" Power Girl asked, scanning the building with her x-ray vision. There were several workers inside, toiling about as they cleaned and toiled. She spotted Gabrielle Cabrini and several other people on stage rehearsing a scene.

"It's possible… but you know that I don't often put much merit in the supernatural. It's so often bunk." Oracle said, "However, what I can tell you is that in each of the three open murder cases there the killer escaped into the sewers beneath the theater."

"And, those sewers are full of lead." Power Girl replied grimly, "I've been scanning them for about a half an hour now and there are vast sections of them I just can't see thanks to the lead."

"Well, back when Century City installed it's sewer systems back in the late 1800's, they were fairly simple. However, in the early 1900's after a massive fire gutted most of Century City, when they began rebuilding, for whatever reason, Century City's powers that be thought it would be a good idea to just build more sewer on top of the existing ones and add to the existing system. And, of course, the original maps were lost. The current maps are fairly inaccurate for any of the system dating before the last time they added to them in the mid-1950's. The people planning would design the sewers without knowing what was there, and then just redesign during construction to fit what was already there, without altering their plans in anyway. So, I've been unable to find any maps down there that are accurate, and lots of reports of alligators, underground civilizations, and homeless encampments. None of which can be proved or disproved."

"Underground civilizations?" Power Girl asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yep. Apparently during World War II there were reports of Mole Men down there." Oracle replied, "And before you start laughing, just remember that Queen Hippolyta faced down several different groups of Mole Men around that time-in Gateway City and Washington D.C."

"Mole men?" Power Girl groaned, "I obviously didn't read the right information when I decided to move my company to this city."

"I did, however, find a lot of information about the Oasis Theater… and the site it's build on." Oracle said. "It's on Lincoln Ave now, but that street used to be called Oasis Street. In 1867, it was the site of the Oasis Street Funeral Home owned by one J. August Wilkensen. Wilkensen was less than scrupulous and apparently was operating a body selling operation on the side. He started out very cautious, only selling the bodies of poor people and unidentified corpses, but as he began to make a serious profit from this side-venture, he got greedy and started selling any body he got his hands on. Which is how he got caught. He sold the body of a recently deceased woman to Century City College's medical school. Only to have it turn out to be the very rich and very powerful mother of one of the students. Of course, when he found his dear mother's body he immediately reported it to the police. During the investigation however, Wilkensen decided to stage his own death, and he killed one of his employees and then torched his funeral home, using the sewers to escape the funeral home. Which is what started the Century City Fire of 1893, and led to an incredibly amount of death throughout the city. They caught Wilkensen in 1900, living under an assumed name in the wealthy Rose District of Century City. Before he could be brought to trial, a lynch mob drug him to the burned remains of his funeral home and hung him. He died cursing the lynch mob and the city its' self."

"Interesting." Power Girl said, still scanning through the theater with her x-ray vision. Every so often, she would use her microscopic vision to get a closer look at the goings on in the theater, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. "That might explain the curse."

"Yes. It gets more interesting. In 1912 construction started on Oasis Street High School. The building of the school was marred by disaster. Several of the workers ended up dying in various accidents and mishaps. At the time, poor working conditions were blamed. But, in the two years it took for construction to be completed, they lost twelve workers, and while construction codes were far more lenient back then, the construction company was not found to be a fault after an investigation was conducted. Then in 1917, the Oasis Street High School was burned to the ground by a disgruntled student. He had been given a failing grade and was denied graduation. So, on the first day of classes in the Fall, when he started his second senior year, he burned the entire school to the ground. Thirteen students and two faculty members died in the blaze. The student, Harvey Lowery disappeared."

"Let me guess, presumably into the sewer." Power Girl said quietly.

"Yes. Then in 1927 construction on the Oasis Theater began just as they changed the name of the street to Lincoln Avenue, presumably to distance it from the various scandals and tragedies. By 1931, when construction was complete, the Oasis Theater and the art district that had sprung up around it was a thriving area. There were a few accidents that claimed lives at the Oasis Theater. An usher fell from the top balcony to his death. A female employee choked to death on popcorn. Stuff like that. There was an accident with the lighting fixtures on the main stage during a performance in 1943 that killed two actors and scarred another for life. In the 1950's it was mostly quiet. Just one suicide. Then 1963 there was the murder of Gabrielle Cabrini." Oracle continued. "So, while I don't normally believe in supernatural occurances… there is definitely something going on at that location. It's a bit much for one location to endure without something just beneath the surface."

"That's what I'm thinking. It's possible the area is some sort of mystical conduit. If it links to the Darkworld or to one of the other Chaos Realms, it's possible that it would result in a lot of tragedy depending on what energy or beings are slipping through." Power Girl replied, "What is confusing to me, is the Phantom of the Oasis. What did you find on that?"

"I was just going to get to that." Oracle continued, "In 1952, a disgruntled playwright named Jonathan Parker, who was working as the assistant to the Theater Director, wrote a script for a mystery suspense play called 'The Phantom of the Oasis'. Of course, it was rejected, because in many ways it was a rip-off of the 'The Phantom of the Opera'. I actually skimmed through it earlier, and it's almost a scene per scene copy of the Phantom of the Opera. After the rejection, Jonathan killed himself in the green room of the lead actor of the then production whom he had fallen in love with. It was a much different world in the 1950's and homosexuality was definitely not accepted in any way shape or form. And the actor Jonathan had fallen in love with was married and quite in love… to an actress named Camilla Lind-Gabrielle's grandmother."

"And, then eleven years later, Camilla is murdered in her dressing room at the Oasis Theater." Power Girl replied.

"In a manner identical to the way a character is murdered in Jonathan's script, by a killer dressed as the killer in Jonathan's script." Oracle paused for a moment.

"Jonathan was disgruntled and committed suicide." Power Girl whispered. "The main suspect in Camilla Lind's murder was a disgruntled former boyfriend and co-star. The main suspect in the murders in the 70's was a disgruntled former employee. The murder ten years ago was attributed to a drug-dealing neighbor described as disgruntled. The kid who burned the school down was a disgruntled student. Notice everyone attached to these various things are described as disgruntled?"

"It is an interesting trend." Oracle agreed. "One I actually missed. Good work. I'm still running those letters you gave me through the database. It's going to be another hour or two before it pulls up any matches or even a profile based on the handwriting. I'll be in touch as soon as anything pops up PeeGee."

Power Girl sighed, "How many times do I have to tell you that I hate being called that?"

"I don't know." Oracle laughed, "But, it's your nickname. And certainly less of a mouthful that trying to say Power Girl all the time."

"You could try Karen." Power Girl replied.

"Not while at work." Oracle replied. "When we met for coffee or dinner, you're Karen. But, while we're working it's Power Girl or PeeGee all the way. Gotta keep it professional. And protect our ID's in case someone happens to get lucky and tap into our secured conversations."

"Understood." Power Girl replied, "But just remember, I don't like it at all. Power Girl is better. And, honestly, you have the highest IQ of anyone I know. Surely you could think of something better as a nickname."

"Sure thing, Jiggles." Oracle giggled.

"Oh. My. God." Power Girl blushed, "That is just WRONG!"

Oracle was still laughing, "So I take it you prefer PeeGee?"

"I sure do Roller Girl." Power Girl said, flying down toward the Oasis Theater.

"Anything else for this case?" Oracle laughed.

"Not yet. If you could reference wandering spirits, demons, or entities specializing in retribution or vengeance though, that might be helpful."

"Will do. I'll be in touch if anything pulls up."

"Later." Power Girl said.

"Be safe, Karen." Oracle said, just before signing off.

Interlude: The Oasis Theater, Century City, 1952

Jonathan Parker sat alone in the outer office typing memos for his boss. His boss had gone home long ago, as was true for most everyone who worked here. Monday the theater was dark, with no performances at all. But, the office staff and various employees involved with the daily running of the theater and the boring mundane things that it took to keep the theater functioning had been here. Although they were all gone, while Jonathan finished up a stack of work his boss Leslie Reyerson had left behind before rushing off to his wife and family.

Jonathan paused, mid-sentence, his fingers lightly touching the keys of his typewriter and his eyes drifted to the thick script sitting on the edge of his desk. The note pinned to the front with Leslie's small uneven handwriting scrawled across drew Jonathan's dark eyes the most, making his cheeks flare red with seething anger.

Jonathan did not need to re-read the note. "Trite" "blatantly un-original" "poorly written" were all burned forever into his mind. Jonathan felt the wave of despair float up within, before it was replaced again with the seething anger he'd been pushing further and further down all day since this morning when Leslie had returned the script.

Jonathan's thoughts turned to Lyon Jeffrey and their argument last night. Jonathan's emotions became even more angry. After only two months of being lovers, Lyon was calling it off. Saying that this couldn't go one, that he loved his wife Gabrielle, and what he'd had with Jonathan was just… a drunken indiscretion.

Jonathan screamed, knocking the typewriter from the desk, where it landed with a crash, several of the keys breaking off and scuttling across the phone.

That was when Jonathan heard the voice.

It was quiet… but he could hear it clearly.

"Jonathan…" He called.

Jonathan followed the voice, finding himself moving through corridors and going down into the bowels of the theater, into the lower levels and finally the basement, where long forgotten relics gathered dust and shadows. He came to a small wood paneling, and realized as the voice grew louder that it was actually a door. Pushing the door open, Jonathan stepped into a dank corridor bathed in darkness that smelled of foul rotten things. On some level, Jonathan realized he was in the sewers, but that, along with the awful smells surrounding him were forgotten as he followed the call of the voice, going deeper and deeper into the sewers following that hypnotic voice until he finally came to a heavy wooden door, carved with strange symbols and a door-knocker carved of some dark metal shaped into some strange beast with horns. Torches burned on either side of the door.

"In here Jonathan. A glorious future awaits. Just knock five times on the door and ask for entrance."

Jonathan banged the door-knocker five times and then in a voice he didn't not immediately recognize as his own said, "I demand entrance."

The door swung inward, revealing a chamber behind.

Jonathan stepped in and the door slammed shut behind him.

Power Girl walk down the corridor alongside the Oasis Theater's current director Marla Cassel. She was a stunning woman with carefully sculpted blonde hair and a power suit that hadn't been in style since the early 1990's. Although she appeared to be around the same age as Power Girl, there was something oddly old-fashioned about the woman. As they walked, Power Girl looked at the photographs lining the walls. They were mostly head-shots of various actors and actresses, directors, and various staff members.

"Please, do not think my security team is not taking the threatening letters seriously." Ms. Cassel said, "We did contact the police and they did take copies of the letters, as well as begin an investigation. This theater has too much riding on the successful launching of this play to re-establish us as a viable outlet for the arts here in Century City. We've been replaced by movie multi-plexes and the opera house and Camden Theater in more fashionable areas of town. But the Oasis Theater is deeply rooted in Century City's rich history. We are merely being quiet to keep the tabloids and media from snooping around and dooming us to failure. All we need is the media to start running stories that Gabrielle Cabrini is in danger and it's all over for us. No reputable actor or actress, nor director, will want to be associated with us. Scandal and notoriety are not something the stage community is vested in. We will not get traveling Broadway shows here with that kind of reputation."

"I wholly understand. But, Gabrielle Cabrini is a friend of a friend-" Power Girl was cut off.

"Don't sugar coat it for me Power Girl." Ms. Cassel snorted, "I am fully aware that you once dated Gabrielle's husband. I read the tabloids from time to time."

"OK. Then Gabrielle is the wife of a friend," Power Girl resisted the urge to rip the woman's head off. "Regardless of my connection to Ms. Cabrini, I am interested in locating the person responsible for these letters and preventing any harm to her. Surely it cannot be of any harm for you and I to speak about this. It's not like I'm going to go to the media."

As they reached Ms. Cassel's office the woman looked at Power Girl with a sharp expression, sizing her up. "Very well. I can spare a few minutes to speak with you. Although everything I know about the case, I have already told the police. Surely you would be better off speaking with them."

"Perhaps." Power Girl said.

As Ms. Cassel pushed the door to her office open, Power Girl noted the headshot of a handsome dark-haired young man. Under the photo it said, "Jonathan Parker-Assistant to the Director, 1950-1952".

Power Girl followed Ms. Cassel into a very modest office, lined with bookshelves heavy with play scripts and books about Theater Arts.

"I don't really know what else I can tell you, Ms. Power Girl." Ms. Cassel said. "The letters arrived, addressed to Ms. Cabrini at the theater's business post office box. As is customary we opened them and read them. We found them disturbing, but figured it was just someone perpetrating a sick joke. However, with the world as it is today, we notified the police. They came and took them away. Then when Ms. Cabrini arrived, we notified her. Her husband, Mr. Vinson went down the police station and obtained the originals somehow, and obviously he went to you. As I told the police, I don't know of anyone who would do such a thing. And I don't know anyone who would want the theater to fail. Not even the Opera House or the rival theaters would stoop so low. In our business, there is a level of class about such things. There may be some jealousy on the part of other theaters in town… we do after all have one of the most successful Broadway playwright-directors and a world famous Hollywood actress on this. But, no one in my industry would be so … petty."

"I doubt that is what is behind this." Power Girl said quietly, as Ms. Cassel took a seat, motioning for Power Girl to sit down, but instead she remained standing, towering above the woman at her desk. "What I would like to know, is if there have been any employees recently fired… whether it be on the housekeeping staff, the concession staff, be it on the actual production, your board of directors… anyone at all."

"Well, none of our employees or any of the talent we employ would write a letter like that… even past employees." Ms. Cassel sniffed.

"Any one." Power Girl stressed. "Any one on the cast?"

"Well, there was the first actress that was to be in the starring role of the play. Walter Covington and Gabrielle Cabrini are good friends… however, there initially was some what of a salary dispute. Oh, I should not be talking about this. This had better not end up in the tabloids. Mr. Covington and Ms. Cabrini would pull out so quick…" Ms. Cassel shook her head.

"I can assure you Ms. Cassel I'm not going to go to the tabloids with this." Power Girl replied levely. "As you are obviously aware, I myself have a bit of a tricky relationship with the tabloids."

"This is true." Ms. Cassel shook her head, "OK. Very well. At one point, due to the money issues, Ms. Cabrini was not going to be in the play. They couldn't agree on the money and Mr. Covington's investors, as well as the theater's financial board declined to put in the extra funds. It was deemed that it was just too much for one actress, no matter how profile, considering she was not interested in signing a run of the play contract, but rather a contract for six months. If the play is successful, it could run for a full two years based on the contract we've signed with Mr. Covington. Longer if we renegotiate. Replacing Gabrielle Cabrini only six months into a successful run could seriously hurt box office returns. There is a chance that a different actress would not be accepted or embraced by the audience if Ms. Cabrini makes an indelible mark."

"Obviously Gabrielle's six month request was approved, because she is now in the play." Power Girl said.

"Yes. Mr. Covington hired another actress for the role. Approximately one month later, Gabrielle's management made contact and said that they were interested in dropping her asking price and offering a three month extension at the end of the six months for a small pay increase." Ms. Cassel said, cleaning her glasses. "It was too good to pass up. So, the actress was fired. Not every one was pleased, since it did involve a significant increase in the play's budget. There were a few board members who vehemently opposed it. As well as a few of the actors who had grown attached to the actress we hired."

"OK. This is a potential lead." Power Girl said, "I'd like the name of the actress, as well as any one who opposed Gabrielle being hired."

"I'm not sure…" Ms. Cassel said, hestitating.

"I'll be discrete. Obviously I'm not wanting to anger someone who might be plotting to harm Gabrielle." Power Girl smiled, sweetly. "Just write their names down and I'll look into them. Discretely."

"Very well." Ms. Cassel sighed, writing five names down on a slip of paper. She handed it to Power Girl, who folded it and tucked it securely into one of the small pockets concealed in her cape.

"Thank you Ms. Cassel. I will keep you up to date on any relevant developments." Power Girl said, leaving the office.

Power Girl had spoken to the first three people on the list, all board members of the theater's advisory board. As she had learned, thanks to Oracle, at the Oasis Theater, the Advisory Board ultimately controlled all decisions that effected the theater's bottom line. The three she had spoken to had said that they were less than thrilled with Gabrielle Cabrini due to the added financial stress of her hiring, but now they were fine as they play had already sold out for it's first month worth of performances and almost all of the second. Plus, the renewed interest in the Oasis Theater had caused merchandise through their website and gift store to start selling far more briskly.

That left one board member and the fired actress.

As Power Girl landed on a building near the pizza place she was meeting Andrew and Gabrielle for dinner at, she was still waiting for Oracle to get the analysis of the letters and a list of mystic/mythic entities that could be responsible.

In the darkness of the night, Power Girl changed from her costume to civilian clothing, tucking her costume into a tote bag. She did not bother with her glasses or slicking and clipping her hair back, as she would when switching to her Karen Starr identity. She just wanted to be inconspicuous, and not give away her secret identity at the same time. If it had just been Andrew, then she would have had no qualms about switching to Karen Starr, but she did not trust Gabrielle Cabrini with the secret of her dual identity.

Leaping from the building top, Power Girl was thankful that her powers were no longer on the fritz. She was still adjusting to her newly set super-powers, which combined a variety of the powers she'd displayed off and on over the years due to her unique meta-gene.* But, it was nice to not worry about her powers cutting out, and even more nice that she wasn't having to wear that uncomfortable exo-skeleton or those rocket boots.

*See Power Girl #4 for the details.

Power Girl walked with confidence toward the entrance of Abner's Pizza, already seeing Andrew and Gabrielle at a booth near the windows. Power Girl made her way over to them.

"Hi." Andrew said, standing as Power Girl reached the table. He sat as she sat.

"Hi, Andrew. Gabrielle." Power Girl said.

"Hi." Gabrielle said, her eyes looking dark and haunted.

"She received another letter today. This one came to our hotel." Andrew said, grimacing. He handed the letter over to Power Girl.

Power Girl took the letter and read it.

Gabrielle,

I have warned you to quit the play and to leave the Oasis Theater. You are not wanted. If you do not heed my warning and obey the curse of the Oasis Theater, you will regret it coming opening night.

The Phantom of the Oasis

"Well," Power Girl remarked, setting the letter down. "He cuts right to the chase doesn't he?"

Gabrielle shook slightly as she sipped a glass of water with several lemons floating among ice within it.

"I think I am going to quit the play." She said, sighing heavily. "I just can't deal with this kind of stress. I have received upsetting letters before from obsessed fans, but those are different. This is…" She shook her head, her luscious ebony locks bouncing around her cheeks. "It's just different. I've never had someone threaten my life like this."

"It is very disturbing." Power Girl nodded, "But, you have nothing to worry about. I'm on the case, and I have been researching leads. I have found out a lot about the Oasis Theater and it's very sordid past. There is reason to believe there may be something supernatural involved. The Phantom may not be human. But, there are also some tangible flesh and blood leads I'm following up on. Including the actress that they fired from the part you're playing."

"Lorna?" Gabrielle shook her head, "She was very upset. But, she wouldn't do something like this. She, Walter, and I all grew up here in Century City. Sure, she was upset, but we're old friends, she and I. There's no way she would…" Gabrielle stopped herself. "I refuse to think such things about a friend."

"I know it's disturbing to even consider," Power Girl said, "But, we have to consider it if we want to protect you."

"Ka-" Andrew caught himself again, "Power Girl is right, honey. And, if Lorna isn't involved, then at least Power Girl can rule her out to research other potential leads."

"That's right." Power Girl said. "When is opening night?"

"It's a week from tomorrow." Andrew's tone was serious. "Although Gabrielle isn't sure she's going to be there. She has spoken to her lawyer and is looking into perhaps breaking her contract. There is a clause in it that says she can break it without any penalty if her life is in danger."

"That is an interesting clause." Power Girl remarked. "Is that standard?"

"No. It's not." Gabrielle said, "But, my agents insisted on it… due to the Oasis Theater's background. They didn't even want me to take this role. They advised against it. They think it will only bring bad publicity and that it's not enough money for the time it's going to take and for the movie roles I will have to turn down for it. They just don't understand that I want to do this play and that the money is only secondary to needing to be an artist."

"Gabrielle is very dedicated to her craft." Andrew said, gripping his wife's hand tightly.

Power Girl felt a stab of jealousy rip through her heart. She pushed it away as quickly as she could.

"Your management were against this role? I would like to speak to them. Perhaps one of them are responsible for the letters-trying to scare you into leaving. After all, if they insisted on a clause giving you the ability to walk away if your life was endangered… and they never wanted you to take this role. Maybe they are doing this-not to actually hurt you, but just to scare you enough to walk away." Power Girl said, thoughtfully.

"I cannot believe that Barry or Dina would do that to me." Gabrielle said.

"I have their cards here." Andrew said, handing them over to Power Girl. He opened his mouth to say something, just as Power Girl's earring beeped at her to let her know she had an incoming transmission from Oracle.

"Excuse me for just a moment." Power Girl said, walking out of the restaurant and on to the street. Going around the corner into an alley, she leaped onto the rooftop where she'd changed only a little while ago.

"Sorry that took so long, I was in a restaurant with Andrew and Gabrielle." Power Girl said.

"No problem." Oracle replied, "OK. The handwriting analysis came back, as well as the other tests I had run on the letters. The paper it's self is quite old. Based on the dating, the paper was printed sometime in the 1950's. It is a very expensive stationary that was sold in only a few outlets. Several of which were in Century City. It also matches stationary that Jonathan Parker typed up his 'Phantom of the Oasis' script on."

"OK. That brings us back to suicide victim Jonathan Parker." Power Girl said, thinking about the man's portrait as she'd gone into Ms. Cassel's office earlier.

"Now, here is where it gets tricky. There are no fingerprints or DNA of any sort on the letter. Which is impossible… if someone flesh and blood wrote it. It is handwritten, not computer printed, or stamped or anything odd. Someone wrote it. The computers determined that just based on the impression on the paper as well as the way the strokes were drawn out. If the person had worn gloves, there would still be fiber traces or something. There is nothing on this stationary. It's as though it just came from the paper factory."

"Which lends creed to the supernatural menace theory." Power Girl said. "Perhaps it was written by Jonathan Parker's ghost?"

"Probably not. Even as a ghost, his handwriting should stay the same. The handwriting doesn't match Jonathan Parker's. I thought the same thing… perhaps it was a ghost. I was able to locate through public records handwriting samples of everyone involved with the various murders and crimes committed at the site where the Oasis now stands. The handwriting sample doesn't match any of them. I even checked J. August Wilkensen's handwriting from some property deeds, and it doesn't match. Further more, the computers have determined that the handwriting belongs to a woman. I've got the computer searching for matches, but that will take a few days on the short side-as it will mean comparing the handwriting to samples for all English speaking countries." Oracle concluded, "So, not the best news, but at least we've ruled out some potential suspects."

"If I get you handwriting samples of some of the female suspects I've compiled would that make it easier?" Power Girl asked.

"It would. It only takes a few seconds to compare the writing samples. It takes more to pull samples to compare it to." Oracle replied. "Get me those as soon as you get them. Also, I did the database check for demons, spirits, entities, etc. that might fit the bill. When cross-referencing Century City, it pulled up an interesting match for me. Apparently at one point during the late 1700's, right when Century City was founded as a small trading outpost and was called Mill's End, there were several women burned at the stake as witches."

"Nice." Power Girl shook her head.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. However, each of the women claimed that they were not witches, that they had only wished ill on neighbors and family members and that a vengeance demon called Laeramo had done the rest." Oracle said. "I obviously wasn't able to find a lot about Laeramo. Most magickal volumes and texts still haven't been scanned in or electronically stored. However, I did contact Zatanna. She's on a mission right now, but told me that as soon as she's done she consult her library and find out what she can on Laeramo for you. She's apparently stopping a demonic legion from taking over another dimension with Nightshade."

"I guess that trumps my potential demon who wants to kill my ex-boyfriend's actress wife." Power Girl remarked dryly.

"I'd say so. I put out a call to the Silver Sorceress. She did not immediately respond, however, she tends to hop between this dimension and her home dimension a bit these days. If she's back in Angor, then it could be several days before she's back in touch."

"I had heard she was back among the living." Power Girl replied, "Blue Jay was telling me that she is still sort of out of it. She hasn't returned any of my calls though."

"It's to be expected I suppose. Coming back from the dead is never easy… from what they tell me. And, her resurrection was particularly difficult. She has only been doing the old super-power thing when she needs to pay the bills." *

*See last year's "Supergirl Halloween Special #1: The Witches of Angor" for the full scoop on the Silver Sorceress's return from the dead.

"How is Andrew?" Oracle asked.

"Who knows?" Power Girl shrugged. "It's like he has no backbone and no real mind of his own. Of course, that could just be the panic and fear this situation is inducing."

"It doesn't sound much different than the Andrew I remember from his days at the Gotham Globe, back when he was woo-ing you." Oracle remarked.

"You just never saw the side of him I did." Power Girl replied, her voice growing soft.

"Thank God." Oracle deadpanned. "OK. I'm signing off PeeGee. I have to get back to Black Canary and Huntress. I have them on a mission in Bialya. And you know how tricky things are there right now. I'll be in touch when I have info. And get those handwriting samples to me as soon as possible."

"Will do."

Power Girl returned to the restaurant.

"Sorry about that." Power Girl said, sitting back down. "That was an associate of mine who is helping me research this case."

"It's OK." Andrew replied.

"So, do you have any leads? Any solid leads?" Gabrielle asked, looking desperate.

"A few. I wouldn't call them solid. Since we may be dealing with something otherworldly, I can't be certain that we will have something solid at any point. However, I will be looking into it. I also have resources to determine the exact nature of the threat… if it is some type of demon or ghost." Power Girl said.

"I'll be right back ladies." Andrew said, "I need to visit the bathroom."

Power Girl and Gabrielle watched him leave. Once he was gone, Gabrielle turned her attention to Power Girl.

"He is still in love with you." Gabrielle said. There was no anger in her voice, at least not much. "He calls your name in his sleep sometimes. Your real name. Karen."

"We are just friends. He and I… we would have never worked out. No matter how much I might have wished we could have at the time. He would have never slept peacefully with what I do. And, there is always the possibility some villain would figure out my secret identity and then kill him or use him as bait to get to me." Power Girl replied, "I think it's best that things worked out between he and I the way they did. And I think you are a much better fit for him."

"I look like you. Despite the mole, the dark hair, the minor differences, I look like you. There are some nights I lay awake next to him, listening to him call your name, and wonder if the only reason he's with me is because he can see you when he looks at me." Gabrielle said, looking as though she were going to tear up.

"This is a discussion you should have with Andrew. Prior to today Andrew and I haven't said more than a few words to one another in a very long time. Even when he interviewed me last year when I was still in San Francisco, between takes, we didn't chat." Power Girl said. "I won't lie and tell you that part of me doesn't still love him. But, I'm not lying when I tell you that he and I are over and there is no way we will ever be together. Even if he hadn't married you."

Gabrielle looked at Power Girl with distrust and opened her mouth to say something. However, their waiter arrived to deliver appetizers that Andrew and Gabrielle had ordered before Power Girl arrived and to take their food order-and get Power Girl's drink order.

Andrew arrived back at the table almost immediately after to find Power Girl and Gabrielle engaged in a shallow conversation, one that did not betray to Andrew at all the exchange that had taken place while he was gone.

Interlude: Oasis Theater, Century City 1952

Jonathan Parker looked down at his hands, looking at the blood leaking down on to them from the deep gashes in his wrists. Terrific pain lancing through his body, dancing up and down his arms with frightening intensity. He had sown up the costume, finishing it last week, leaving it down in that chamber hidden in the sewers along with a top-hat and the mask he'd made of ceramic. Now, it was time for the last part.

He laid back on the floor of Lyon Jeffrey's dressing room. The blood poured from his body, staining the carpet dark.

As the blood slipped away, draining away-taking his life with it, Jonathan began to chant just as the voice had told him to.

"In the name of vengeance, upon the immortal soul of the Black Queen of the Dark Seas, by the trident of Garmesh, I invoke the Laeramo, giver of Justice, seeker of vengeance, vessel of retribution. I invoke thee… I host thee…"

Even as Jonathan's life drained away, his voice could be heard in the hallway beyond, growing louder with each word he chanted, even as his body grew cold and gray. When Lyon Jeffrey arrived in his dressing room the next morning, he found the body of his former lover, dead and lifeless. But, for a few moments, he could have sworn that he heard Jonathan, speaking someone from deep within the bowels of the theater.

Karen Starr sat at her desk, signing documents and looking nervously every so often at the clock on her computer. She had one more meeting today and to drop some documents off at Starrware's lawyer's offices for review, and then she would be able to resume looking into the letters that Gabrielle had received. She had sent several handwriting samples to Oracle for analysis this morning via fax, but very quickly Babs had called her to let her know they were no match. Which left her with the opposing board member and the fired actress to interview still.

Karen's personal assistant Beverly poked her head in, "Andrew Vinson is on the phone for you."

"Did he say what he wanted?" Karen tried to play it off, as though she had no idea why Andrew would be calling.

"No. He just said it was imperative that he talked to you." Beverly said.

"OK." Karen said, waiting until Beverly had left the room to pick up the line. "Karen Starr." She greeted warmly.

"Hey, Karen. It's Andrew."

"What's up?" Karen said removing her glasses long enough to wipe a smudge from one of the lenses.

"Gabrielle found a dead rat nailed to the door of her dressing room when she arrived at the theater today." Andrew said, "There was a note pinned to it, declaring it was from the Phantom. I was wondering if you've made any progress yet? Opening night is tomorrow night, and that's the night the Phantom said he would strike."

"Oracle ruled out the handwriting samples I sent over to her this morning. She is still comparing it to all known handwriting samples for anyone associated with the Oasis Theater or any of the former crimes or victims. It's a long process unfortunately." Karen replied, "I have meetings with that last board member and the actress this afternoon. I'm on top of it."

"I'm just worried is all. You haven't seemed to uncover any real leads." Andrew replied.

"Perhaps. But, I've eliminated several leads, which narrows the search. This isn't an easily remedied situation Andrew. If you would step away from this as Gabrielle's husband for a minute, and approach it as the investigative journalist I know you are, then you would easily recognize that."

"I know. I just don't want to lose her, Karen. I love her. More than life it's self. And my life doesn't make sense without her in it." Andrew said, even as his words stabbed at Karen's heart. "Do you think you can go over to the theater this evening and keep an eye on her during the rehearsal?"

"Andrew, I still have to meet with the fired actress and the final board member." Karen replied, cringing at the thought of spending time alone with Gabrielle. She just felt uncomfortable and awkward in the woman's presence, and she didn't know how much worse it would be without having Andrew there as a bit of a buffer.

"I can't be there with her Karen." Andrew said, "I have a dinner meeting with Clayton Prescott at Century City Channel 5. We're finalizing the deal that will put me on the air here, and keep me close to Gabrielle while she's doing this play. It's important."

Karen closed her eyes, remembering how Andrew had helped in getting her set up as Karen Starr. The computers at the Fortress of Solitude had taught her everything she needed to know about technology, and Kal and Bruce had helped her establish her identity. But, it was Andrew who helped her rent that first apartment, taught her how to drive a car, took her to get her New York driver's license, taught her how to cook just enough to get by. She felt like she owed him so much. With a heavy sigh, she heard herself say, "OK. What time does she get to the theater tonight?"

"At seven." Andrew replied.

"OK. I will be there watching. Probably from outside, using super-vision." Karen figured it wouldn't be so bad if she floated above the theater and watched the rehearsal. She could take her iPod.

"Thank you Karen." Andrew said. "I will talk to you later."

"Goodbye Andrew." Karen hung up the phone, her gaze going out the window to the cityscape beyond.

Gabrielle Cabrini stood center stage, trying to remain calm and collected and focus on the job in front of her. She was an actress. An artist. First and foremost. This was her craft. She had studied in London for four years and took it very seriously despite the fact she was often cast in big-budget poorly written Hollywood productions. She made sure to do at least one film or stage production every year that allowed her to grow as an artist. This play, not only a favor for her closest and dearest friend since kindergarten and through high school and beyond, fulfilled that caveat.

She knew that the world (and the tabloids especially) liked to paint her as a untalented hack who was too busy getting married to Power Girl's ex-boyfriend, but it was just not true. Sometimes it was hard to carry on, there were times where she considered taking the money and running-retiring from the business and living her life in peace. But, Gabrielle knew that she couldn't do that. Acting was who she was, it was in her blood and she would die without it.

Ironically, she thought, I'll probably die because of it.

"Now remember," Walter, her friend and director, called from the audience. "This is your character's pivotal scene. The monologue that lets everyone look into her heart and soul and see what has motivated her throughout everything that has proceeded. Don't hold back."

"I just don't want to overdo it." Gabrielle replied, aware that her co-stars were standing around watching, several of them looking at her in disdain. Lorna Devane, the first actress hired, had been grown very close to several of them in the short time she'd been rehearsing the role. And none of them had been pleased that "Big Hollywood" actress Gabrielle Cabrini was coming on board. Most of the actors in this production were talented theater people who would never consider doing film. It was against all they believed in.

"Don't worry about that right now. You've been holding back." Walter said. "I want you to just let go. Once you find the drama of the scene, it will then be easier to reign you in. We are too close to opening night and you are not nailing this monologue. And I know you can do it. I've seen you do it."

Gabrielle smiled at him, although inside she was a bundle of nerves.

Gabrielle nodded, then took a deep sigh. She drew her attention inward, finding the opening line to the monologue and opened her mouth to let the words flow out.

"People look at me and think, she must have it all." Gabrielle said, her inflection different the moment she was in character. She glided past the stage furniture, 1950's armchairs and end tables in muted shades of lime green and burnt orange. It was all quite garish and actually made it easier for Gabrielle to get into the head of her character a rich girl fighting to have a life outside of her father and fiancé during a time when women were supposed to stay at home. "Rich parents, a house on the hill overlooking the entire town. I have a fiancé who is even richer than my father. He's a handsome war hero from a family that can trace it's self back to royal blood in Europe. Girls down there in that town, living in tar-paper shacks wish they could be me. They daydream about my closet and all the clothes that fill it…" Gabrielle paused, stepping under the chandelier, then looked far-away, her gaze going misty, "But none of the realize-"

The sound from above startled her out of the moment, causing her to look up at the chandelier, light sparkling from it's various crystal components that suddenly looked like small daggers.

It had been a creaking sound, a pulling sound. The sound of unraveling. And the chandelier was now several inches closer. But, the time the harsh snapping sound occurred, Gabrielle was already aware that the chandelier was coming down on top of her. A deafening silence had filled the theater, so much so that all Gabrielle could hear was her own heart thundering in her chest and her breath catch in her throat.

No one in the theater uttered a sound, as if by collective subconscious agreement they thought remaining quiet would prevent what was about to happen. And perhaps it did. The moments seemed frozen for Gabrielle, but she couldn't get her feet to move, her body was stuck in place, rooted the spot she stood. Some part of her screamed, "MOVE IT! YOU HAVE TIME! GET OUT FROM UNDER THIS @%&#@* CHANDELIER!"

Finally, her legs seemed to get the idea, but by then it was too late and the chandelier was lurching down, tumbling through the air, all seven hundred pounds of glass and crystal and light bulbs and heavy metal hurtling down for Gabrielle.

"I love you Andrew," Gabrielle managed to whisper, then closed her eyes to wait for the pain. She only hoped it was quick.

It sounded like wind, reminding her of the time she'd gone sky-diving and she thought to herself that death was a lot less painful than she'd thought even as the roaring crash of glass and crystal and metal exploded all around.

"Tell him when you see him."

Power Girl's voice startled Gabrielle, causing her to open her eyes.

Down below the chandelier had shattered into a million pieces across the stage, destroying the furniture. Somewhere Gabrielle could hear crying and sobbing. People crept toward the ruins of the chandelier, panicked.

"Gabrielle is under there!" Walter screamed, "Some one help me," As he started moving glass and debris.

"You saved me." Gabrielle sputtered. Looking at Power Girl's face. They were floating high above the stage.

"Of course I did. I told Andrew I'd look out for you. Good thing too." Power Girl looked up at the ropes that had held the chandelier in place. "One good gaze with micro-scopic vision is enough to tell me someone cut those ropes planning to take you out. With a knife. So your threatening-letter writer isn't 100 percent ghost."

"Oh my God." Gabrielle whispered, looking down at the mess below as people began digging through the chandelier's corpse.

"I should get you down and let people know you aren't under there." Power Girl said, "I whisked you to safety so quickly that no one would have seen it."

"Thank you." Gabrielle said.

"You should thank STARR Labs and my parents." Power Girl said, "That's why I have the super-speed and flight to save you."

"I'll thank whoever." Gabrielle muttered, her eyes clouded as she began to realize how close death was.

"Let me get you on the ground. I don't want you to start freaking out this high and cause me to loose my grip. You don't want to splat on the ground below. And I don't want anyone digging through that to cut themselves to hell to save you when you aren't under there."

"Gabrielle is over here." Power Girl said, landing, and setting the actress down.

"Gabrielle!" Walter cried out in relief, rushing over to his friend and embracing her. "I though I'd lost you!"

Power Girl looked about the room, at the other actors, taking note of the ones who had not sprung forward to help rescue Gabrielle. Could they be suspects as well? Before Power Girl could consider it further, Ms. Cassel the theater director came rushing on to the stage.

"OH DEAR GOD!" She shrieked, "What happened?"

"It looks like someone tried to make good on those threats against Ms. Cabrini's life with your chandelier." Power Girl said, then told the woman, "I would recommend you call an ambulance and the police. Someone cut the ropes of that chandelier. It was a murder attempt."

Power Girl stood, waiting for the police to arrive before she felt comfortable leaving Gabrielle in the theater.

It was early the next afternoon as Power Girl landed on the recreational docks lining the Laurel River, which wound through Century City before spilling into the Atlantic Ocean. These docks used for sail boats was located within Stratford-on-Laurel Park, a five-hundred and forty acre park located in the center of Century City. She looked to the small amphitheater located not far from the docks. It was the smallest of the three stages located in Stratford-on-Laurel Park, and was currently hosting a free performance by an non-profit acting group called "Acting Out." Acting Out staged famous American plays every year. This year they were doing "Our Town", with one Lorna Devane in the starring role.

As Power Girl entered the amphitheater area, she saw Lorna Devane talking to several people, while fanning herself with a small paper fan. She was a tall thin woman with striking angular features and long pale blonde hair.

Power Girl frowned, thinking over the information she'd just gotten from Liselle Vining, the last board member she had to speak with. She had left the woman's offices to come thirty minutes ago, her intention to head straight to the park to meet Lorna. However, there had been a five-car pile up and a victim pinned in a burning car. She'd had to free him and then get the fire extinguished so it didn't blow up. It had made her late by ten minutes. Hopefully Lorna wasn't too peeved with her.

"Ms. Devane." Power Girl said reaching the woman, "I'm sorry I'm late."

"No worries." Lorna smiled, revealing a bright buoyant smile that seemed to brighten the afternoon as the sun began it's decline. "I figure you might have had to stop a bank robbery or mugging or something. It's not like you have more important things to do than to talk to an actress. I must admit, when you called me the other day to set up this meeting I was a bit confused as to why; but after hearing about the trouble at the Oasis Theater with the chandelier on the news last night… Well, I figured that there was it was something about that. Plus, I know that Gabrielle Cabrini is married to your ex."

Power Girl smiled, although she wanted to punch someone. Did everyone read the tabloids? And, why was it even celebrity news? She was a super-hero. Not a rock star or movie star. Times like these she considered maybe changing her name and not telling anyone. She could call herself "Superwoman" and wear a mask and wig. No one would realize that she was the hero-formerly-known as Power Girl. Maybe it would teach her a lesson to not be seen with any future boyfriends (she wasn't going to hold her breath that was going to happen) in public as Power Girl. From this point forward, she was only dating in her secret identity.

"You would be right." Power Girl said.

"So, I suppose I'm suspected of attempting to kill Gabrielle by dropping a chandelier on her?" Lorna asked, raising one eyebrow dramatically.

"Not quite." Power Girl replied, "It's just standard in an investigation to talk to anyone who might have a beef with the victim."

"Victim." Lorna said the word slowly, forming odd shapes with her mouth, as though it were a foreign concept.

"Yeah. Victim. Someone attempted to murder Gabrielle. And, they've been sending her threatening letters. They also left a dead rat nailed to the door of her dressing room yesterday before the murder attempt. It's a serious thing." Power Girl said, observing the woman's expression. It would be hard to determine if an actress was lying. Well, it would be if she were any good.

"And because I got fired from the play so she could have the role, I'm a suspect." Lorna said, her gaze going far away. "I suppose when I screamed at Marla Cassel it didn't help matters."

"You screamed at Marla Cassel?" Power Girl asked, not remembering Marla Cassel mentioning that.

"Yeah. I did." Lorna sighed. "I was just angry. And when she called to tell me how bad she felt for me and how awful it was and that she wasn't happy with the situation either… well, I just went off on her. It's just like Marla to make it all about her. She was like that in high school."

"I'm sorry? You knew her in high school?" Power Girl asked suddenly, remembering that Lorna had gone to high school with Gabrielle and Walter.

"Oh yeah. She went to school with the rest of us." Lorna said, laughing lightly. "Of course, Walter and Gabrielle don't realize it."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, in high school she was Martha-Laurie Anderson. She was over-weight, unpopular, and hated Walter and hated Gabrielle because Gabrielle got all the boys and all the roles in all the plays. Marla was always over-looked. Always. After graduation, she lost a lot of weight, legally changed her name to Marla Cassel and went to L.A. to be an actress. Of course, she failed miserably and ended up moving back here to Century City. Of course, it further cheesed her when Gabrielle made it big." Lorna said, chuckling. "Walter went to the Oasis's board of directors to propose the play. He didn't meet Lorna until after the board had gone over her head to book the play. She didn't tell him who she was. And she swore me to secrecy. She didn't want him to know she was the girl he'd called 'Chubby Spice' back in high school. And when Gabrielle got mixed up in the equation…" Lorna shook her head. "Well, she was even less thrilled."

"So, Walter and Gabrielle have no idea that Marla Cassel is their old nemesis from high school?" Power Girl said, thinking back to the information Liselle Vining had given her about Marla vehemently fighting to keep Gabrielle from being hired. Her behavior in concealing her identity seemed a little crazy and psychotic.

"None." Lorna said, laughing. "I would like to tell them, but you know I promised Marla. And I would only be doing it out of spite. I try not to do stuff out of spite. Wouldn't want that kind of karma."

Power Girl smiled, having heard enough. She removed a piece of paper and pin from the pocket in her cape, handing it over.

"Would it be all right for me to get a sample of your handwriting? Just so we can compare it to the threatening letters? It would help rule you out as a suspect."

"No problem." Lorna said, "What should I write?"

"Just your full name and a random sentence."

Lorna smiled, jotting something down. She then handed the piece of paper to Power Girl. Power Girl looked down at it.

Lorna Michelle Devane would not try to kill someone by dropping a chandelier on their head. I would make them listen to Celine Dion records until they stabbed themselves in the face.

Power Girl laughed.

"When does your play open?" Power Girl asked.

"Next week. We usually go for six weeks, but we only have enough money to last for four this year. As a non-profit we exist on pledges and donations, and this year has been bad for that sort of thing." Lorna said sadly, "But, it's still four weeks and all the schools in the poor neighborhoods will be bussing students in for the matinees, so at least the kids most in need of art will get it."

"Well, thank you for your time. And again, I apologize I was late." Power Girl said, standing.

"No worries. It was nice to meet you. I have to admit, I'm a fan. You are out there risking your life to save the world and help people every day. We need more people like that." Lorna smiled.

"Nice to meet you as well." Power Girl replied, leaping into the air and flying away. She curved, heading toward Gotham City so she could drop off the handwriting samples with Oracle. It would be faster than using FedEx, which wouldn't get it there until tomorrow at this late hour. And with this situation time was running out before opening night.

Power Girl dialed Beverly Chaucer's number. Her personal assistant answered on the third ring.

"Hello, Karen." Beverly greeted.

"Are you still at the office?" Power Girl asked.

"I am. I had some things to wrap up before heading home to the ball and chain." Beverly said, her voice musical.

"I have two more things for you to add to your to-do-list for tomorrow. I want you to call my accountant and have him donate a check for fifty thousand dollars to Acting Out. They perform free plays in Stratford-on-Laurel Park. Also, on my agenda for the weekly meeting with the PR department add a donation by Starrware to Acting Out. We just closed three extremely lucrative deals and it's important that we give back."

"Both things are on my list, and I'll call Mr. Morris's office to set up a phone appointment for tomorrow." Beverly said, "Although I will be glad when you find a local accountant. Mr. Morris's new assistant is a pain to deal with long distance."

"Then add that to the list. Find local accountant." Power Girl replied.

"Good." Beverly said, sounding relieved.

Power Girl smiled, "You are the greatest Bev. Thanks. I'll see you in the morning."

"Good day Karen. Be careful out there." Beverly said.

Power Girl frowned as the line went dead. Sometimes she suspected that Beverly suspected she was secretly Power Girl.

Barbara Gordon sat at the computer console, observing Black Canary and the Huntress as they infiltrated a warehouse where a black market baby dealing ring had set up shop as the alarm started going off.

Barbara turned to the flashing console screen and read the results with one raised eyebrow.

"Oh. Really?" Barbara double-checked the results and in fact the computer was right (as it always was) and it was a 100 % match.

"Hey, PeeGee." She called to Power Girl who was in the next room getting coffee. "Get in here. Quick."

Barbara could hear Power Girl sigh at the mention of the nickname.

"What's up?" Power Girl asked, coming in with two cups of coffee. She set one down on the coaster on Barbara's desk.

"I have great news." Barbara replied, "Well, sort of. I have a match for the Phantom letters you gave me. A 100% no mistaking it sort of match. I know who your perp is."

"That is good news indeed." Power Girl said. "Do share."

It was around midnight when Power Girl got home, and she was exhausted. After going over the information a million times and double-checking it to make sure there was no mistake, they had discovered the person responsible for writing the letters. Power Girl had taken the handwriting sample that had matched to the Century City police, but it would take them days to compare the handwriting and match it. And the D.A. wouldn't authorize an arrest warrant until there was enough information to prove that the handwriting matched.

Opening night was tomorrow night. Of course, the Century City police offered additional security for Gabrielle. But, Power Girl knew in her heart it wasn't enough. She loved justice and understood the need for working within the system and protecting people's rights. But, in instances like this, laws and civil liberties appeared to be protecting a potential killer rather than the victim. Power Girl quickly reminded herself that instances like these were few and far between and didn't fall within the normally parameters the American Justice system knew. It was a potential supernatural issue-something she'd completely left out. There was no way she could give the police the report Oracle had gotten her on the demon Laeramo. Although people were more open to the supernatural and mystic thanks to heroes like Dr. Fate and Zatanna, most of them still didn't accept such things as fact.

Power Girl had then called Andrew, going to meet him and Gabrielle, explaining their plan of action. Power Girl fell asleep on her bed, still in costume, with a purring snuggly kitty curling up beside her.

The Oasis Theater, Century City, Opening Night

She sat at the vanity, touching up her make-up. She applied blush cautiously to her olive colored cheeks, careful not to ruin the make-up already on. She ran through her second act lines in her head, her dark red lips moving soundlessly as she did so.

She stared intently at her reflection, gazing into her own eyes and watching her facial expressions as she ran through the lines. She could hear the orchestra out in the theater, even from way back here at the back of the theater in her dressing room. The swelling music helped ease the transition from the first act to the second.

Putting the powder down, she reached for lipstick. A bit had flaked off, and she wanted a nice fresh coat. She brushed several strands of dark ebony hair from her face, smoothing her hair down.

Rising from the shadows clinging to the walls behind her, a form began to take shape. She noticed it almost immediately as a round-ish white face appeared from the darkness and she could hear the swishing of the heavy fabric of the robes swallowing that white face.

"Who are you?" She asked, feel a chill slither down her spine. She looked at the white moonish face in the mirror as it grew closer behind her. It was a mask, she could see, white and colorless, with dark eye slits and holes for the nose and a small sliver at the lips. It was smooth and gleamed in the light from the bulbs lining the mirror on the vanity. She could see no eyes within the dark eye slits.

No answer came, even as the masked form drew closer.

"I told you to leave. To not do this show Gabrielle." The distinctively female voice said through the mask. The voice was familiar and known to her. "You were warned."

"You're starting to scare me." She gripped the chair tightly with both hands, the blood going out of them until her knuckles were white.

From the flowing robes, a black gloved hand lifted the mask, revealing the face beneath.

The tension in her body turned from fear to anger, as her expression became quite furious.

"What are you doing in here?" She rose from her chair. Her hands clenched into fists. "You need to leave. I don't know how you got in here, but you need to leave… NOW!" She pointed toward the door.

There was a flash of steel as the butcher knife was revealed from where it had been hidden by the oversized robe. The knife sliced through the air, heading straight for the heart.

The knife shattered on impact.

"What?" The Phantom of the Oasis gasped, stepping back, looking in shock and horror at the hilt which had splintered away as the steel blade had broken.

"You picked the wrong girl." Power Girl said, pulling the black wig from her head, her blonde hair springing free as she did so. The knife had torn through the dress she'd been wearing, revealing a white body suit beneath. "You were close enough to me earlier that you should have noticed a resemblance between Gabrielle and I."

Power Girl ripped the mask from the Phantom to reveal the Theater Director beneath.

"I talked to your board member Liselle Vining and she mentioned that YOU had opposed hiring Gabrielle Cabrini. And an analysis of your hand-writing on that list of suspects you gave me matched the hand-writing on the letters you sent Gabrielle. More importantly, a background check shows that you actually went to high school with Gabrielle where two of your boyfriends dumped you for her and then she beat you out for the lead in every play. The fact that your repeated attempts to revitalize this place have all failed, but your old rival helped actually make it happen was too much to take." Power Girl said, drawing close. "Gabrielle and Walter didn't even recognize you. Didn't realize that svelte Marla Cassel was their chubby bifocalled classmate Martha-Laurie Anderson."

"You just can't understand Power Girl." Marla hissed, her eyes glowing with a dark malevolent evil. Power Girl could see energy bleeding from Marla. She was backing away from Power Girl, creeping toward the hidden panel that would lead into the secret corridors that lined the theater. "She had everything I ever wanted…"

Power Girl reached into her pocket and removed the small vial of holy water she'd gotten on her way to the theater tonight. Based on what Oracle had told her, the demon Laeramo's origins were in the Catholic faith, and could be cast out of a human host by holy water. Power Girl opened the vial and splashed the holy water on Marla Cassel.

Marla screamed as though burned, and a bright flash of light saw her crumpling to the ancient oriental carpeting of Gabrielle's dressing room. Drifting up in a puff of smoke was the visage of Jonathan Parker-who had long ago bonded his soul with the soul of the demon Laeramo.

"You will pay for that Power Girl." Jonathan Parker hissed, his face transforming into that of the demon, then fading back again. "I will find another host. There are too many people in this world who are disgruntled and angry and willing to do anything to settle a score. I'll be back and this time the Phantom of the Oasis will destroy you. You and all of your loved ones."

The puff of smoke that wore the face of Jonathan Parker and the demon Laeramo interchangeably, passed through the secret panel. Power Girl followed him, chasing him through the corridors until they were down in the sewers.

"Chase me all you want Power Girl. You will not catch me."

"Wanna bet?" Power Girl said.

"Even if you do, how are you going to capture me? I'm a wandering demon spirit."

"I'm pretty resourceful." Power Girl replied.

When the reached a corridor that ended in a wood door with a heavy knocker and torches on either side, Power Girl knew that the chase was nearly over. The phantom demon passed through the door. However, when Power Girl tried, she found that she could not pass through. Even as she tried to open the door, it would not budge.

"There is some sort of mystical barrier here." Power Girl whispered to herself. Her weakness to magic remained.

"Only those I invite in may enter." The demon cackled from the other side of the door. "So, you see Power Girl, I am quite safe. And will wait here safely until my next host wanders along." The demon laughed coldly, it's voice echoing through the sewer tunnels as Power Girl made her way out of the dark foul-smelling sewer and back up into the theater.

Epilogue: Three Days Later

Power Girl stood watching the door. On the other side, the demon taunted her, reminding her of her inability to enter. Power Girl smiled to herself, wandering how smug the demon was going to feel shortly.

In the days since she'd defeated the Phantom of the Oasis, Marla Cassel had slipped into a deep coma. The doctor's said that most of her organs were failing and it appeared her system had been greatly tasked. Consulting a mystic source, Power Girl had been told that the demon Laeramo was a vampiric spirit, that he sucked the life-force out of his hosts, leaving them dead when he was done-which explained the bodies of former hosts found down in these sewers over the past few days. Marla's prognosis was not good and she wasn't expected to live through the end of the week. Power Girl certainly felt sympathy for the woman, but at the same time a part of her whispered that karma had a way of paying a person back for their crimes. Marla may have been possessed by a demon, but it was a possession she had welcomed. A wandering spirit such as Laeramo could only inhabit a body of someone who invited him, much like a vampire cannot enter a home unless invited.

A bright flash of light appeared several feet from the door, arcing out into a bright white halo. From it stepped a tall statuesque woman with a brown body suit and a red cape and odd head-dress.

"I'm sorry I was late. I teleported to the wrong side of town and ended up having to stop a mugging. Your directions were quite terrible. Luckily the mugging victim was OK enough after I saved him to advise me of how to get here." The Silver Sorceress said, her hands on her hips.

"Sorry." Power Girl replied, "I'm new to the city and sometimes get a bit mixed up."

"Next time I'll Google Map before I teleport. It's not like I don't have the internet." The Silver Sorceress shrugged. She looked around, getting a good look at the tunnel they were and accidentally taking a deep breath. "Wow, what an incredible smell you've discovered."

"It could be worse." Power Girl shrugged.

"Who do you have out there Power Girl?" The demon on the other side of the door asked, laughing hysterically. "Have you brought me a new host in order to draw me out?"

"Wow. What an angry bitter demon he is." The Silver Sorceress commented. "Sounds like he might be just a wee-bit mad."

"Probably. He's been inducing people to mass murder for over a hundred years." Power Girl said.

"I don't doubt it. Did you know this theater is built on ancient Indian burial ground? I could tell by the energy wafting off this place when I arrived out front." The Silver Sorceress asked. "Nothing good ever comes of building stuff on ancient Indian burial ground. Back on Angor, these people built a house on it in New Jersey, and it ended up getting haunted by this pig named Jody. It was a real mean pig."

"A pig?" Power Girl asked with a raised eyebrow. "That's too much. And, we don't call them Indians anymore. They're Native Americans now. They've been native Americans for a few years. You need to get with the times."

"They were still Indians on Angor when the nuclear holocaust occurred. People on my world were a lot less high-strung about race and the color of one's skin. I miss that." The Silver Sorceress said. "But, we can talk about that over lunch once we get out of this wonderful sewer. Let's get down to business."

"What is going on out there?" The demon spirit's voice suddenly betrayed fear.

"Well, it's simple," Power Girl began. "The Silver Sorceress is a powerful wielder of magic. Predominantly Hex-Magic. But, she also handles a myriad of different magic styles."

"It's true." The Silver Sorceress said, "Although my body has a natural mutation that has me naturally exude Hex-Magic, I have studied every magic there is. You never know when you will need something from some obscure offshoot of one of the various schools of magic. Or when you would want to combine some Hex-Magic spell with a basic Wiccan binding spell. For instance, a spell that shifts you and your room in there out of synch with this plane of reality so that the door is not seen if someone comes into this corridor. It would also prevent anyone from hearing you if you try to call to them. But, you will still be partially in this reality, so you could theoretically leave the room… and that's of course where the standard Wiccan binding spell comes in. It will bind you in that room until this talisman…" The Silver Sorceress pulled a bronze medallion encrusted with several rubies, "Is unwrapped and shattered."

The Silver Sorceress handed the medallion to Power Girl, along with red ribbon that sparkled with magic energy. "If you will just wrap that around the medallion until you cannot see the medallion anymore, then tie it off. During the whole process, I need you to say out loud, 'I bind you Laeramo from doing harm to yourself, harm to others, and ever leaving that room.' And now I begin the dimension shift spell."

The Silver Sorceress began to whisper in Angorian Latin as bright magical energy blossomed from her hands. Power Girl began to chant the mantra the Silver Sorceress had told her.

"NO! NO! NO! YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME!" Laeramo screamed from the other side of the door, his voice wavering in and out of his voice and Jonathan Parker's voice. "NO!"

"It is done." The Silver Sorceress finally said once Power Girl had finished tying the medallion. "Be gone."

And once the words passed the Sorceress's lips, the door before them and the torches faded from view, taking with them Laeramo's screaming. They faded away, dying into nothing. Now, an empty brick wall looked at them.

"What do I do with this?" Power Girl asked of the medallion wrapped in red ribbon.

"You have to sleep with it beneath your pillow every night for three months." The Silver Sorceress said.

Power Girl felt her heart drop and dread fill her heart.

Suddenly the Silver Sorceress burst into wild laughter, "I'm just kidding."

"Oh. My. God." Power Girl said, "I am going to kill you."

"Don't do that. I've been dead once. It wasn't that awesome. The After Life is pretty dull. As for the medallion, I would recommend tossing it into the ocean, somewhere it won't be disturbed. The ribbon is enchanted and protected against the elements. And, only you or one who is pure of soul can untie it now. It will last for eternity, long after we've both left this planet. As will my dimension shift spell. We've heard the last of the Phantom of the Oasis. At least for our life times. And any lifetimes we may experience after."

"Cool. I think tossing this into the Atlantic would be the best bet." Power Girl tucked the medallion into the pocket in her cape. "Do you want to go get some coffee?"

"I would love some. We haven't chatted since I've been back from the dead. There is so much to catch up on." The Silver Sorceress said.

"That's for sure." Power Girl said.

The two women left the sewer even as half-a-dimension away, a demon and the soul bonded to him swore revenge on Power Girl.

"You've not heard the last of me Power Girl. The Phantom of the Oasis will return and I will be the death of you."

THE END