AN: Hey everyone! This is my first Phantom of the Opera fanfic, so reviews are greatly appreciated! And by the way, I don't own the Phantom, Christine or any of the wonderful characters except for Layla and Roxana. Enjoy!

Chapter 1

There was fire everywhere. The red-orange tongues of flame consumed anything that came across its path, destroying everything that he held dear. What wasn't destroyed by the inferno was stolen from him, including the one woman he could ever love. Cloaked in the shadows of night, the Phantom watched silently as his Opera House continued to burn with its hellish flames. A fire created by his own hand. As he had manipulated the destruction of his realm, he would rebuild the Opera Populaire, more grand and beautiful than it had ever been in the past. He would never again repeat the mistakes of the past; he would not stray from the darkness that protected him for so long and so diligently. His only care would be for his Opera House, his kingdom.

Turning back to the alleyways from which he had emerged, the Phantom would return to the catacombs buried beneath the Opera House. The mob and gendarmes would have deserted their search of his lair by now. He would retire there to begin the plan for the resurrection of his Opera Populaire.

"Layla? How much longer are you planning on staying tonight?"

Layla glanced up from the badly damaged skull she was examining. Peering through wisps of unruly hair that had escaped from its hair tie, she focused her gaze onto her friend and colleague. The large room they were in was empty of people and dark except for the bright, florescent lights that illuminated the examination table Layla occupied with her specimen. Rubbing her tired eyes with the heels of her hands, she leaned back into her chair, stretching slightly.

"What time is it, Roxana?" Layla asked her colleague as she carefully placed the cranium into the secure crate that was to house it.

"Honey, it's nearly midnight. Everyone already left hours ago."

Roxana watched her obviously fatigued friend as Layla continued to carefully replace the skeleton laid before her into its crate. It wasn't a complete surprise that she was working late, again. The young anthropologist often worked long into the night, decoding secrets from bone. Layla was practically the poster child for the word "workaholic." However, these long nights were starting to extend into the second week, with no end in sight. It was beginning to worry her colleagues and Roxana personally had enough of it.

"It's alright," Roxana grimaced as her friend continued; Layla was always able to read her mind, "I'll be leaving soon. There is just a skeleton being shipped in from Paris that I have to receive tonight."

Roxana frowned, "You mean the one that was found in the basement of the Paris Opera House? Why can't you just have them deliver it in the morning? It's already late enough as it is."

"It's because those remains may be famous, or rather, infamous," Layla smiled, "It's not every day you might be able to examine the remains of a Phantom."

"Only you get excited about meeting dead people," Roxana rolled her eyes with a soft snort.

Layla laughed and shook her head sadly at her friend. Despite their close friendship, Roxana never did understand the passion that Layla had for her work. It was what made every day exciting and she loved it with her entire being. Layla loved being able to look at the bones of a person and be able to reconstruct that person's whole life. To be able to coax stories, past and present, from these remains was the art that she relished in. Not something that her friend, the real artist, could ever comprehend.

"Anyway, I swear that as soon as the remains come tonight, I'll go home."

Roxana watched her friend carefully, gauging the woman's actions. There was no telling if Layla really would keep her word. Yes, the young woman meant well and she probably was sincere, now. But who's to say that Layla wouldn't get distracted, or find something else she'd rather do later on than sleep? Finding no other alternative, Roxana would just have to take her friends word. Sighing, she admitted defeat.

"Alright, but as soon as you store the bones, you leave. Got it? I don't to find you asleep in your office again tomorrow."

Laughing, Layla answered, "Ok, Ok. I promise, now go home."

With one last worried glance at her friend, Roxana turned away and left the young woman in solitude. Quietly and carefully, Layla finished packing up the skeleton that she had been examining earlier and made sure that it was stored securely. Hours began to pass as Layla waited for the Paris remains to arrive at the institute. While she awaited its arrival, she looked over the preliminary reports concerning the discovery of said remains.

Several weeks ago, the Paris Opera House was undergoing some minor renovations to the foundations of the structure to repair some cracks that had appeared over time. At some point during the construction a skeletal remains where uncovered in the catacombs, deep beneath the Opera House, buried in a shallow grave near an underground lake. Instantly, rumors swirled around the solitary skeleton as the press and media proclaimed the remains to be those of the infamous, Phantom of the Opera. This was the entire reason that the remains were being sent to a forensic lab in the United States, instead of one in France. The government had needed an impartial examination in order to put these rumors to rest.

The idea that the remains might actually be those of the Phantom excited Layla. She enjoyed examining remains from different periods in history and hearing the tales as they spoke to her. Who wouldn't want to hold a piece of history in their hands? Just thinking about it made a goofy smile linger on Layla's features. Glancing at her watch, Layla felt her smile falter. 3:00 A.M.; whoever was delivering the remains was certainly taking their time about it. As though conjured from her thoughts, Layla's cell phone began to ring loudly. The men delivering the skeleton had finally arrived.

Relieved, Layla quickly let them into the institute and legally took possession of the remains. The wooden crate was small and simple, only bearing the mark of the government stamp of France and nothing else. Despite all the hype being proclaimed in the news and the French governments 'interest' in the remains, the respect being shown was minimal at best. Even the deliverymen seemed to be uncharacteristically wary of the crate and its contents as they brought it in. Dismissing the men's behavior as superstitious, Layla completed the necessary paperwork and sent the nervous men on their way. All she had to do now was to lock everything up for the night and be on her way home.

"Just like I promised Roxana," Layla muttered under her breath.

Glancing at the simple crate, Layla felt the familiar stirrings of curiosity being to flame within her. She could just take a quick look, that way she could get a head start on the examinations tomorrow. What harm could one look do? All she was really interested in was the skull anyway; it wouldn't take very long. Placing the bag she had retrieved from her office on a nearby table, Layla began to approach the crate.

But she promised Roxana, didn't she? Layla hesitated as she was grasping the lid of the wooden box. Roxana wouldn't have to know that she stayed any longer than she had to. Just one look wouldn't hurt. Gently raising the lid, Layla peered into the confines of the box. Sitting, carefully packaged, the gleaming, white bones were barely visible. The skull was nestled safely towards the 'head' of the carton, wrapped in order to protect the fragile bone during transport. Layla reached inside to carefully lift the skull out of the crate and began to unwrap it from its protective coverings. Finally, the skull was completely bare and resting on the examination table before her.

Gazing at the skull in wonder, Layla knew it was unlike anything she had ever seen before. The left side of the skull was perfectly formed and customary. The artistic side of her filling in the muscle and tissue, seeing the handsome face that would have looked out at her. Other than some healed hairline fractures along the cheekbone, most likely a result of many fights, the left side was completely normal and undamaged. But as she continued her examination to the right side of the face, Layla could see the abnormalities that were quite obvious. The surface was pitted and uneven, clearly showing worn areas of the skull that would have penetrated through the skin, and that was only the bone. The uneven contours of the skull only alluded to the deformities that would have been apparent on the skin itself. Despite the obvious defects, Layla could tell that the man would have been very attractive in his own right. Glancing at her watch once again, she observed the time to be nearing 4:00 A.M.

There was really no point in heading home now, even if she wanted to. By the time she got home, Layla knew she would have only time for a quick nap before she had to come back into work. That time she would have spent driving and sleeping could be better put to use with something more productive. Feeling the goofy grin return once more, Layla realized that nothing would be more productive that creating a facial sketch based from the skull. Rummaging through her bag, she finally produced a well-worn sketch pad and a few charcoal pencils. Layla was beginning to take her seat back at the examination table when the power in the lab suddenly flared with a bright intensity, only to plunge into complete darkness. Startled and cursing, Layla whirled around, feebly searching for the cause of the sudden blackout. She backed into the table behind her in her confusion, causing the skull to rock dangerously and pitch for the ground. Layla lunged, reaching out for the precious bone, only to have it graze her fingertips. Through that contact, something akin to electricity coursed through Layla's body, wracking her with tremendous pain.

Unable to move, Layla couldn't do anything to prevent herself from hitting the cold ground hard. Her head making a sickening sound as it slammed cruelly against the stony floor. Eager to escape the pain, Layla gratefully embraced the darkness that quickly enclosed her.