Disclaimer: I do not own the plot, characters or the lyrics of The Phantom of the Opera and Love Never Dies. They belong to Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber and those associated with the musicals.

Chapter 1

The night was warm and the breeze was subtle yet refreshing. The streets were busy with people going about their business. Some laughed, while some yelled. Some cried while others played. Even though the sun had gone down, life in the city was still in full swing.

Mrs. Watson, a middle-aged woman who wore the years on her face, was walking down one such street when suddenly, something stopped her journey. She looked ahead to see four boys, no older than thirteen, were laughing and shouting at something, or someone, that was enveloped between the boys. They were even pointing and calling out names such as "freak", "monster" and "devil child".

Suddenly, the shadowy figure lashed out and the boys began to quickly backup. It was the first time Mrs. Watson saw Oscar. He was just like any other man only in tattered clothing and no shoes. However, half of his face was not human. She didn't know what it was but it seemed like he had acid poured onto him, deforming his facial features. She should be shocked. Yet, somehow, when the boys were laughing and taunting at the beggar, she had no time to fear. But what he did next, she was surprised. Oscar grabbed one of the boys by the wrist and snapped his jaws at him as if he wanted to eat him.

The boy struggled to get out of his grip. Eventually, Oscar gave up and let go. The boys immediately ran off. Oscar slumped back onto the ground and buried his head into his arms. Mrs. Watson can hear him softly sobbing. She suddenly felt sorry for him. Maybe it is her maternal instincts or her sympathy towards him, but Mrs. Watson decided to give him a place to sleep that night. She went over to him and took him in. Oscar was confused. And scared. But it is hard for him to tell the difference. No one. In the 22 years that he was alive, no one had offered a hand to him. He was scared at first, but wanting so much for food and a roof over his head, he silently went with her.

That night, she took him back to the opera house where she lived. She took him to the kitchen and gave him some food. But it didn't go so well. The cooks in the kitchen saw his face and screamed. Most of them scrambled to get away. That is not all. Everyone they met that night were scared to even be within fifty meters of him. The theatre manager, a short pudgy man who look suspiciously like a troll, whispered to Mrs Watson, "Mrs. Watson, you can't keep him here."

"He has nowhere to go."

"But he is scary. He is scaring the workers. If we keep him here, he will be bad for business."

"Look at him, he is harmless."

"Mrs. Watson, I don't believe I need to repeat myself. Get rid of him."

With that, the theatre manager left. Mrs. Watson looked at Oscar. Oscar looked around with curious yet suspicious eyes. She said to him, "Sorry kid. Looks like I will need to hide you in the undergrounds of the house."

She led him away, mumbling under her breath, "Bloody little troll."