A/n Anyone reading my other fic. Phantom of the Dojo.. don't be confused, this is a different story. I haven't stopped my other story, I'll be updating that here pretty quick. Anyways… Hmm this is my First POTO fic. The idea came to me overnight and I jotted down a few chapters in one sitting. What else?..

This is a test chapter. Continuing depends on reviews. So review:)

Ideas welcomed as is constructive criticism.

Disclaimer: I don't own Phantom of the Opera pouts

Chapter 1.

Death.

The scent of it hung in the air. Thick, like smoke. It filled the nose, coated the tongue and turned the stomach. It was bad enough outside, but inside the Opera House…it was much worse.

A normal man would have taken one step in the building, reeled at the stench and turned on his heel. But this man, this was not a normal man. He had seen worse… smelled worse. Almost.

He was not leaving without her.

He had planed on taking her away, but never this soon, and never for this reason. Erik paused as he entered the silent opera house. Bodies lay scattered here and there. Most were homeless people who had wandered in, looking for a quiet place to die. He didn't give them a second look as he continued to stalk through the lobby and into the opera itself. Here there were fewer bodies, but most were opera staff.

'Such a waste of talent.' He thought to himself as he passed many singers and chorus girls. Their eyes were wide open, mouths stretched in silent screams. Even Erik couldn't stand the scent of death any longer, now that he walked among it. He pulled a white handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it to his nose and mouth. The lavender soap used to wash the cloth did nothing to cancel out the stench, but it helped.

The carpet beneath his black dress shoes made an almost sickening squishing noise with his every step. Fluids from the decomposing bodies had soaked it.

Now, he reached the Stage.

He moved quickly now, knowing just were he was. Here he heard noises, moans and weeping. People dying or morning those who already left. He ignored everyone. Erik knew where to find his Angel. Ducking fallen scene cloths and tangles of rope hanging everywhere, he swiftly made his way though the backstage. He took the spiral staircase two steps at a time. There on the second floor were the dorms.

He almost gagged at the amount of bodies everywhere. Most were young girls.

For the first time, fear griped his black heart.

What if she is one of the dead? No! no don't think that. She's alive. You saw her yesterday.

He past one door. Then another, this one was open and a glance inside showed everyone to be dead. He moved on. The third door. Here he paused. This was the younger chorus girls' room. He reached out with a gloved hand and opened the door.

His heart both twisted in pain and exploded with joy at the sight within. Inside he saw his little angel, his Christine. She was alive, but far from well. The teen was crouched down on the ground; her shift was covered in blood and worse things. Tangled brown curls were tied in a knot at the back of her head. In her arms… was her dying friend. Meg.

One look told Erik that the girl was breathing her last breaths. She was all but gone. But Christine was not giving up. The sight broke his heart all the more, and even he couldn't tear her away from Meg while she still drew breath.

…. . .

"Meg, everything is going to be alright." She whispered to her childhood friend as she gazed up at her with glassy eyes. Christine had long ago accepted that Meg was going to die. All she could do now was keep her best friend calm and as comfortable as possible. Christine had to force herself to keep looking at Meg and talking to her. She was a horrible sight.

Most of Megs' body had turned a dark shade of grey. Her skin hung lose from her face. Her neck was swollen, as was parts of her arms. She lacked all color, except her lips, her lips were red from the blood that she was coughing up. But she had long ago stopped coughing, no longer having the strength to. Now her breath came in short and gurgled as her lungs slowly filled with blood.

Christine had tears in her eyes, blurring her vision, but she didn't look away until the life left Meg.

…. . .

Erik bowed his masked head slightly as Christins' sobs grew. Meg was finally gone. Her pain was over. He felt guilty for taking so long to find Christine. He might have been able to save both her and Meg. But he was here now, and he had to get his Angel out of this place. She was probably already ill.

"Christine."

……..

Christine turned at the sound of her name and gasped at the man before her.

How long has he been there?

She hadn't even heard him open the door. She let go of Meg and self-consciously rubbed at the tears on her face. What was he doing here? Who was he? He was tall, easily filling the door he was standing in. He wore a black tuxedo with a cape. But what stood out most was the half mask that he wore. It was white, emotionless… inhuman.

"Who are you?"

She watched him shake his head.

"That's not important right now." He said in a soft musical voice. Christine looked around the room, seeing the bodies of her fellows. Death was all around, and she bet she looked like death too… but she didn't care.

"No, no I guess not." She agreed before turning back to her friend and slowly petted her blond hair. The room was silent again, and Christine thought that the strange masked man had left her alone in peace.

So she was surprised when she felt strong arms wrap around her and yank her from Megs' bed.

A/n. Short, gah horribly short. My chapters are longer than this mostly. Anyway tell me what you think, and if I should continue. click on the little review button…even to just say hi

See it..

Tis right down here.