Warning: This is one of my first ever stories written in first-person. I am actually going to be taking recommendations from you guys because I hope this to be a more interactive story. Own nothing!

Enjoy!

Chapter One

The Electric Lights flicker outside the window. The troops of soldiers march past, their navy blues blending with their face paints. They swap their guns to their other shoulders in unison, their Garrison caps set centre on their heads. The complexes surrounding the street are made of solid stone, like the streets themselves. The dome high above us is programmed with dark blues, reds, purples, and pinks. Far on the west side, the false glowing orb of light vanishes from the dome and into the false sea. The Electric Lights flicker from soft gold to an electric blue that makes the stones outside glow luminescent. The clock chimes and ticks, signalling curfew for all. The stone room is small and cramped, just like everything else here. A chair sits by the heater in one corner of the room and directly across from that, against the opposite wall, a twin size bed with tattered white sheets and no pillows. A small Electric Light hangs from the ceiling. A dark wood door sits beside a small one-pane window. There is over three million people in only thirty miles of space... And none of them like me.

It is long past curfew now. Midnight. A perfect time for dangerous adventure. Just like in the old fairy tales. I change from my Recreational clothes and into my Civilian clothes. These clothes consist of dark greens and light greens, making up patches that resemble the old army uniforms. I throw my Garrison cap on and adjust it just off the side like my fellow rebels. The Electric Light blinks red. Then out.

My eyes adjust to the pitch dark and I find the door. I find the divots I made in the wall outside my door and begin to climb up the complex wall, eventually reaching the roof, over one hundred feet from the ground. I feel a slight burning in my chest and look down to see a bright red pinpoint just over my heart. Looking across the street, I see a robotic watchtower with it's gun pointed right at me. I start running as fast as my legs will carry me. I reach the edge of the roof and make a jump to the one just a few feet away. I continue running and jumping until the burning pinpoint vanishes. Just as I catch my breath, another red dot appears on my chest. I continue on my escapade.

After what felt like forever of running, my vision flashes red. Warning: System overheating. Cool down, now. I stop and find a hatch on the roof of the building. I pull the thick metal covering open and drop inside, the hatch clanging shut behind me. I sink against a wall near me, the warning blinking then vanishing from my vision. I pull up my pant legs and sleeves to cool down. Wherever I am at is really cool... Temperature wise. My power is running low and it is taking a long time for my eyes to adapt. I rub my right arm with my metallic left one, the cold metal soothing my burning skin. It is so quiet here that I can hear the clinks of springs and the clunk of gears in my chest, left arm, and left leg.

Within minutes, my breathing calms and my eyes adjust, casting a thin beam of white light from each one. I rise and begin exploring this strange haven. I leave the tiny room and wind my way through thin passages, eventually finding my way down to the main floor. I gasp loudly at the foot of the stairs. To my right is another door, presumably leading out, and in front of me is... I do not know. It is a... strange surface that reflects, I can only guess, what is before it. I have heard of these before! I think they are called... mirrors? Maybe? I look at the cyborg staring at me. Her eyes are a striking blue and her waist length hair is a pastel of the same electric blue as the night-time Electric Lights. Her lips are a rust red from being chewed on and her skin is a pale white. She is somewhat tall. I hold up my hands and press them to the glass, my left one clinking as I do so. The light from my eyes bounces off the navy metal and back and forth between the mirror. Looking at them side by side, my left hand only contains the necessary parts and none of the excess like my right. I bend my fingers, watching the springs and gears tilt and shift, like the muscles, tendons, and ligaments that are in my right. Looking down, I see the reflection of my left leg. Much like my left arm, I can see the metallic pieces shifting and tilting as I wiggle my toes in my yellow combat boots.

I never really gave my cyborg parts a thought besides when I had to replace them. Even with the little to no money I had I was able to get decent parts and since I ceased growing I just polish these ones up every once and awhile to keep the dark navy colour gleaming. Looking back up in the mirror, I wished I could see the functions of my robotic heart. Oh, how amazing they would look! Sighing, I put my arms down and look away from the mirror. I shook my legs, sending my pant legs back down then pull my sleeves down. I looked up at the door and wondered what magic could reside inside. Maybe it was just like the old fairy tales! Castles and majestic worlds! Wars and horror stories! But, those were a thing of the past. Ever since the plague of over an eon ago, everything has been limited to the dome. Letting out a smooth exhale, I twisted the old style door handle and pushed open the door.

Nothing could have prepared me for what I found inside. Columns upon columns of papers bound by plastic and... wool? Sheep, I believe they were called, died out in the plague! Paper? Trees had gone with it too! Plastic? Well, actually that was not quite as unusual. The room was extensively dusty and it kept getting stuck to my fingers as I ran them along the spines, I think they were called, of the books. They were all so old! I took one from it's shelf and it fell to pieces in my hands. I shuffled to pick up the destroyed pages, reading what I thought might have been the cover. The Hunger Games. I made to take down another and it fell to pieces. Harry Potter. I made for another but gave up after this. The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe. I grazed about the strange room, touching and poking.

Soon I came to an empty bookshelf, then another, and another until finally I reached a wall. But a bright red speck within the bookcase caught my eye. I climbed up a few shelves to the shelf on which the bright red resided. I reached out to touch the red, I think, rose, wondering how it was still bright in this dreary place. I made to lift it, finding it plastic, but as I did so, gears and springs and other contraptions sounded behind the wall. A small spot on the wall beside me opened up to reveal, I think, a candle and a book. This was no ordinary book. The cover was a fine black silk wrapped around cardboard and the thing was dustless. I released the rose and took the book out. It did not fall apart. I tucked it below my arm and jumped from the shelf, landing with a thump at the bottom. I leaned back against the bookcase and spread out my legs before me. I took a few more moments to admire the beauty of the book. I laid it on my lap and it flipped open to reveal... a rose? An actual plant! It was pressed between the pages and I lifted up the vibrant red rose. Some of it's colour had been absorbed by the page but it still held most of its pigment compared to my pale skin. I laid it gently beside me on the carpet then flipped the book back to its starter page. The book bore no title that I could find. I flipped past the first few blank pages and soon found the beginning of the story.

Prologue

The Opera Ghost really existed. He was not, as was long believed, a creature of the imagination of the artists, the superstition of the managers, or a product of the absurd and impressionable brains of the young ladies of the ballet, their mothers, the box-keepers, the cloak-room attendants, or the concierge. Yes, he existed in flesh and blood, although he assumed the complete appearance of a real phantom; that is to say, of a spectral shade...