You knew that this had to be coming. Before we get to the story there are several people to credit. First, Gaston Leroux for creating this wonderful story. Second, to the wonderful Miss Cam who started it all with the Official Fanfiction University of Middle Earth. And third, to Eveline who started this particular story before handing it over to us. Several elements in the first few chapters belong to her.
Disclaimer: All characters/characterizations you recognize belong to Leroux or ALW. All other original characters belong to the authoresses
"You are my true love, and you have let me see beyond my darkness." With those words Erik kissed Cassandra. Cassandra lovingly returned the kiss.
"You are also my true love! You have rescued me from my terrible emotional scars of being abused as a child, and you have let me see beyond the scars that now cover my face because of that tragic carriage accident. Oh, 'when shall we two become one?'"
"Once you consent to becoming my wife."
Cassandra's eyes light up, making her more beautiful than ever (AN: especially more beautiful than that awful Christine!!!!!!!!!!!) and she smiled. "Oh, Erik I ----
A noise from across the room caused Eve to pause in mid-sentence. She looked up ready to yell at anyone who dared to interrupt her while she was writing. She needed complete silence while composing her 35 chapter story of the Phantom finding love after Christine cruelly left him. The over 200 people who had reviewed demanded that she update, and Eve wasn't one to keep her adoring public waiting. But the noise that had disrupted her thoughts earlier did not come from a person entering her room. Instead it came from behind her mirror.
The mirror started to shake and dislodge several pictures of Gerard Butler that had been stuck along the sides. Suddenly the mirror pivoted, and an arm appeared and grasped the side. Eve had backed herself against the far wall in fear, but she also secretly hoped that the Phantom would be on the other end of that arm. But the owner of the arm turned out to be a slight brown haired, blue eyed female who pushing her way out from behind the mirror. "I hate doing that, why couldn't Erik have used the door?" The figure said as she brushed dust from her dark skirts and straightened her chignon in the mirror.
Eve let out a sigh of disappointment; this was obviously not her Angel of Music. The only similarities were the dark cloak around her shoulders and, what was that on her belt, a Punjab lasso?! The figure finished muttering and turned her head with a bit of disdain in her eyes. She opened her mouth and when she began to speak, a disappointingly normal voice came out.
"Good evening, it is my duty to inform you that you have been drafted into the PhanPhiction Academy of the Phantom of the Opera. Well, let's take a look at your crimes." The figure sauntered over to the computer and started to read Eve's masterpiece. "Disgusting, obviously missed the line, 'God in heaven! You have given me all the happiness in the world.' Or, as you seem to prefer the musical and movie, the line 'you alone can make my song take flight.' Well, here you are." She said, shoving a thick envelope in Eve's hands. "Fill out these papers and someone will be back to collect you in the morning. Make sure to fill out everything and circle the beginner courses, those are mandatory. No, you are not dreaming. You will not wake up any minute now. No, you may not touch my lasso. Yes, I will Punjab you if necessary." The figure turned to leave when Eve got her voice back.
"Who are you?"
"Oh, I always forget that part. I am Mirielle. I am the chief of security at the PhanPhiction Academy of Phantom of the Opera and trainer of mini, well never mind, I wouldn't want to ruin the surprise." With that, Mirielle stepped through the mirror and it pivoted back into place.
Eve looked warily at the large bundle of paper that had been thrust into her hands. It had been sealed with wax and was held together with a black ribbon. She nervously popped open the seal and sat down at her desk to read the letter.
Dear Mlle Eve,
As Mirielle has already informed you, you have been selected to attend the PhanPhiction Academy of Phantom of the Opera. The inhabitants of the world of 'The Phantom of the Opera' have become fed up with the quality of fanfiction on the internet, so they have decided to do something about it. You will not be able to write fanfiction until you have completed the courses at the Academy. If you do, well, trust me, you don't want to do that. Please fill out all the paperwork and I look forward to meeting you tomorrow.
Eve put down the letter and began to flip through the rest of the materials in the packet. One sheet appeared to be a list of classes. Eve scanned the list and her apprehension started to increase some more. The list included 'Dos and Don'ts of 19th C. Society' taught by the Mme Girys, Christines, Carlottas, and Mlle. Alaina, 'Angels in the Opera' taught by the Christines, and 'Managers: Identity Crisis?' taught by MM Moncharmin, Richard, Andre, Firmin. But Eve did notice something that brightened her up a bit. There were to be several classes taught by Erik. Eve sighed as she put the paper down. Maybe this academy thing is worth it, if she gets to be close to the Phantom.
Slightly more excited now, Eve turned to the last item in the packet. It appeared to be a questionnaire of some sort. She picked up her pen and began to fill it out.
Lust Object: Erik/ Raoul/ Christine/ Other (please specify)
Preferred Occupation: Chorus singer, Ballet Corps, Stagehand, Patron
Vocal Range: Bass/ Baritone/ Tenor/ Alto/ Mezzo/ Soprano/ Don't Know
Instrument of Choice: Violin/ Piano/ Organ/ Tuba/ Trombone/ Other (please specify)
The list continued on and on. It took about an hour, but Eve finally finished it. She shuffled the papers back together and laid them on her desk. She was unsure what to do now, but realized that she was pretty tired. So she laid down on her bed and fell asleep. She didn't notice when the papers disappeared through her mirror.
The Persian proceeded slowly down to the fifth cellar. He had been sent by Mlle. Alaina to try to find Erik. He had not been present at the staff meeting, and Mlle. Alaina was worried that he was having second thoughts. Christine wanted to be the one to find Erik but Raoul held her back. When she began to argue, Mlle. Alaina said that she agreed with Raoul because when Christine went down to the fifth cellar, she and Erik tended not to be seen for about two weeks. And she would need everyone on hand when the students arrived. So the Persian was sent down instead. He was also one of the few who Mlle. Alaina trusted Erik not to kill on sight if he was in one of his moods.
The Persian eventually made his way to Erik's front door. Apparently, Erik wasn't in that bad of a mood because the Siren had been quiet and hadn't bothered the Persian as he crossed the lake. He opened the front door and walked in slowly. "Erik?" Walking in a few more feet, he called again, "Erik."
"Yes?" The Persian spun around, startled by the masked man that had snuck up behind him. He found himself just a few inches away from the Phantom of the Opera. Unfortunately, it was the wrong Phantom of the Opera.
"Um, not you. I was actually looking for the, uh, other Phantom. Although, you were not at the meeting either." The Persian paused and then said, "And since when do you answer to Erik? You are only referred to as the Phantom in the musical."
The half-masked Phantom sighed and said "I considered it inferred. I figured it was time that I had a name as well. Besides you have no idea what it is like to be called 'The Phantom' all the time." The Persian just looked at him, and the Phantom realized his mistake. "Ah, well maybe you do. Anyway if you are looking for the walking corpse, he is in the torture chamber." With that, the Phantom wandered away.
The Persian walked towards the back of the house and called out Erik's name again.
"Yes, Daroga?" Came the reply from within the torture chamber
"May I come in?"
"As long as that fop isn't with you"
"I trust you are referring to that mangy Vicomte, and not to me." The Persian jumped. The other Phantom of the Opera had once again snuck up behind him. "We had an agreement to live in peaceful coexistence."
"That was before you took my name," Erik responded, walking out of the chamber.
"I am based off of you, of course my name is Erik. I just thought it was time I used it."
"Listen, you 'slave of fashion.' I am only putting up with you because Mlle. Mirielle and Mlle. Alaina said they had a good reason for it. But stop taking what is solely mine!"
"Don't quote the musical to me, you bag of bones! I haven't taken anything that is solely yours. The name is mine too."
"No, it isn't! I am Erik! I am the Opera Ghost!"
"So am I!" At this point, both of the Eriks pulled out their Punjab lassos and seemed prepared to kill each other when the Persian stepped in.
"Monsieurs! Please! Save it for the students!" The Eriks relaxed slightly and the Persian jumped at the chance. He turned to the Erik he knew best and said, "Let him keep the name, you have many other things that he does not have, like the torture chamber. And maybe you can take something of his to even it out." The other Erik started at this and narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
Leroux!Erik thought a bit and said, "I want the staff you used to spit fire at the Vicomte." Webber!Erik looked as if he would refuse, but he nodded his assent.
"Good," said the Persian, "you can use that on the students." At this second mention of the students both Eriks looked unsure.
"I still don't like the idea of them staying at the opera house."
"Yes, no more peace and quiet."
"They will constantly try to come down here and attempt to sing for us." Both Eriks shuddered at this thought. They were about to continue when the Persian said,
"Most of them hate Christine."
"Most of the incoming students think you would be better off with some other woman, and they hate Christine for leaving you."
There was a moment of silence and the two Eriks looked at each other and then tightened their hold on their respective Punjab lassos. They turned in unison to the Persian and Leroux!Erik said, "When do they arrive?"
Note: There is a method to our madness of having two Eriks. All will be revealed in the next chapter. Let the semester begin. cue insane laughter Due to 's policy on interactive stories you can't sign up to be a student through reviewing. Please travel to the author profile and E-mail us. Registration closes February 1, 2005.