I don't own any of the obvious characters like Erik, Christine, Raoul, Madame Giry, Nadir etc., but there are a few characters that I do own. Also I don't own some of the storyline which all comes from Gaston Leroux's fabulous Phantom of the Opera.
Chapter 1- The Mysterious Man
New York, a city that was constantly awake. On the crowded streets people busied themselves with their own self- absorbed lives not paying attention to one another. No one ever worried about another person's day, or how they were doing. Unless you were the subject of attention you passed without it, you didn't exist.
Oh yes New York was a busy city indeed. Time, it was the one thing everyone worried about whether you had to be at that specific place in time, or perhaps it was finish that important paper in time, or maybe even it was get home to watch the most popular show on television in time. Everyone worried about time because everyone knew time would run out and eventually the clock would hit that dreaded time and the unfortunate person would be and out of luck. Everyone worried about time everyone except the mysterious Erik.
He never worried about something so stupid and unnecessary as time because Erik had all the time in the world. Whether it was composing beautiful music that ponders the mind of even the greatest composers, singing tunes that hypnotized the citizens of New York because of the remarkable beauty in his voice, or perhaps it was his favorite of all haunting the unsuspecting victims of the Opera Populaire. Erik would always find ways to spend his rather unlimited amount of time.
Shrouded by the obscure darkness he watched people running about worrying about the stupidest of things. They all seemed like ghost to him, or rather ghost that would die, but he would remain forever watching the generations of people worry about the same absurd things. None of them would ever accept a creature or rather thing like him. Not only was he a creature of the night, a monster that preyed upon humans, but he also had a face that was beyond words to describe. The best way would be to say he looked like a corpse, a living corpse which wasn't far from the truth. When he was a child those so many years ago his mother had disowned him for his repulsive face, as did the human race, and now he despised them for it. Every night he would see some unlikely victim wonder onto an alleyway alone and be the food for another like him, and he could always help them, but his hate for humans always prevented that. They didn't deserve his pity or his assistance.
There was a strike of thunder in the background. No human would have heard it, but with Erik's heightened senses he heard everything absolutely everything. Perhaps to get out of the storm he would go be the ghost or the Opera Populaire for awhile and haunt a few ballet girls. With a thunderstorm approaching they were always twice as scared of him as they normally would be.
Christine sat in the bed in the ballet dormitories watching the rain hit the nearby window disabling any chance of seeing anything. She couldn't sleep. Every bolt of lighting and clash of thunder sent a shiver of fear down her spine. Thunderstorms were scary events for her now, but they weren't always that way. When she was a child she used to run into her father's room and he'd hold her beside him with his warm strong arms that always made her feel comfortable as he hummed her favorite tune in her ear. She used to look forward to thunderstorms, but now there was no strong arm around her, no father humming tunes in her head, and no comfort in thunderstorms.
With her beloved father dead there wasn't much comfort in anything. She lived the days as if she wanted to die, as if there was no reason for her to live another second. There were only two people that seemed to give any care to her and they were Madame Giry and her best friend Meg. Madame Giry had brought her to live at the opera after her father had died, it was a good home, she was well taken care of, but it wasn't a home she wanted to live in. She desired more to her life then sleeping at night and dancing during the day. She desired to become the lead soprano for this opera house, but sadly that would never happen. She would never see fame and glory, and that she knew.
Just then something moving in the darkness caught her undivided attention. "Hello," she said to nobody. Come on Christine you're just being crazy she told herself. Surely there could be no one here, but before she could dismiss it completely there was a loud thud outside in the hallway. Fear was the feeling that a normal girl would feel but Christine was sparked with interest, and before she could think about what she was doing she was walking to the door to investigate.
The hallway was completely dark, pitch black you couldn't even see your hand in front of your face. Christine wasn't scared, however. With all the things she had gone through this was nothing at all so she continued walking down the hallway. There was a sound ahead; it sounded like someone was struggling. "Is someone there?" she asked, but the only the sound of struggling was heard. "Hello are you ok?" she said, but still there was no answer.
"Help!" someone screamed.
"Oh my gosh! I'm coming," she yelled only hoping she could find them in the dense darkness. Her small footsteps turned into running strides; she had to find this person. The struggling sound got closer and closer she knew she was almost there. Then stopping her in her tracks she tripped on something, and found herself on the ground with hands in a pool of something wet and sticky. "What's this?" The substance was dark, and she could see an outline of a pool of whatever it was. She searched blindly with her hands to see what she had tripped on. A flashlight was what her hand soon found, and she quickly turned on the flashlight to see what the substance was.
"Blood!" she shrieked. Dropping the flashlight she quickly scooted away from the pool of blood in horror. "This can't be real, this can't be real," she told herself over and over again, but the blood on the floor and her hands had to be real. If there was blood on the floor there had to be a body somewhere. "Oh God that poor person!" she exclaimed through her tears. This was a lot for even a girl of sixteen who had experienced great horrors in her life. The flashlight that she had dropped stopped rolling when it hit her foot. Trying to regain her confidence she slowly picked it up to see if she could find the body. Maybe the poor person was still alive, but that was only a small comfort to her. With that much blood the person was surely dead, but Christine knew she had to find the body.
Her hands shook as she tried to hold the flashlight up to look in front of her. It wasn't easy knowing you were about to discover a dead body especially if it was something you'd never seen before. "Ok Christine you can do this," she said, "1..2..3!" she held the flashlight in front of her very quick and shined the light on the ground, and then took it away as promptly as she could. "Oh my gosh!" she exclaimed. She didn't see what she expected to see, but could she have seen what she thought she saw? She had expected to see a dead body, bloody and well dead! Instead, however, she could have sworn she saw a pair of black boots standing tall and very much alive! She didn't want to believe that was what she saw. "Ok Christine you didn't just see that," she told herself, "shine the light back again to make sure," she whispered, "1..2..3!" she shined the light straight in front of her.
"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" she screeched. There was a man, a very tall man dressed in black, which was all she could make out before she attempted to run in terror, but was stopped by a strong arm around her wrist.
"Ah a ballet girl!" the man said in a smooth and delighted voice, "and I thought an old cook was going to be my only meal tonight," he continued. Christine tried and tried to get away, but it was of no use the man had an unnatural strength.
"Let go of me!" she demanded without any luck, "let go of me!" She felt herself being turned around, and her heart thumped even more rapidly when she realized she must have been looking at the man face to face. Then his tight grip released and a rush of cold air flew beside her. The hallway was silent now.
"Christine what was all that screaming?" Christine turned around to see Meg sleepy eyed and holding a flashlight in her hand with a few other ballet girls in her behind her. "Christine are you ok?" she asked noticing Christine's pale as snow face, but Christine could give no answer in words instead she fainted.
Hope you liked it.