Hello everybody! My first PotO fic that doesn't suck! lol. I hope you like it. Please read and review. No flames please, but if you MUST tell me how Mary-Sue my character is or how horribly written this is, please be polite about it. The first chapter is kind of slow. But I will get farther into it if you give me reviews. There is no Erik in this chapter. Sorry! But he's coming soon. Enjoy!
Disclaimer- Sadly, I dont own Phantom of the Opera or the Opera Populair or anything like that. But! I wish I did. Oh, believe me I wish I did. So, DON'T SUE ME!
Here you go!
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Chapter 1
I sat alone on the steps of what remained of the Opera Populair after it burned down three years ago. Yes, three years ago, when all the rediculous 'Phantom of the Opera' buisness started and ended. Sure, I believe it all, and I am a little scared that he is still out there, but I don't think it's because of seeing his face. It's because he's a cold hearted murderer.
Yes, Christine told me all about him before she and Raoul left for the states. I admit what she did was cruel and heartless, even for her. But it's all over now and it's said that he's within the ruins and ashes of what remained of the once beautiful building.
I sighed and turned from the shadows of the beautifully smoldered ruins and looked up at the moon. There was nowhere for me to go and nobody left for me to love. I was alone, on the streets, with no money. My father died when I was three and my mother died two years ago. I was able to keep my house until I lost my job. I wasn't allowed to keep anything. The law burned everything along with my house.
So, now I sat there, alone, with the shadow of my past casting down on my, even if I was being bathed in moonlight. I sighed again and got up, walking up the steps, stepping past broken stones and cracks. I stopped with my hand stretched out to the door hanging from a set of hinges. I looked around, my side bangs falling in my eyes slightly, before gently pulling on the door. It squeaked, but did not fall and for that, I was grateful.
There was nothing there for me, but it would keep me out of the rain and snow and I wouldn't be sleeping on the street. At least not literally.
I shivered slightly as I walked into the dank dark building, amazed at how intact the details of everything was still. I never did see the inside, but by the look of things, it was amazing in it's prime. I walked the halls, engulfed in the complicity of the carvings in the wall and the thought needed to produce such work.
As I walked, the moonlight guiding my way, I came upon a closed door. It looked very intact, so I pushed it open and was greeted by the room Christine described to me. To the very last detail, untouched by the fire and a new mirror.
I steeped inside and continued to look around, turning on the light. The desk in the corner was made of deep redwood. On top was a fine, hand carved music box made of the same deep redwood. Around it were designed similar to those on the walls in the hallway. Painted on the top was what looked to be something like the white porcelin half-mask worn by the Phantom, as Christine described to me. The whole thing was glazed over and I was scared to touch it. It was centered perfectly on the desk and everything.
I lifted the lid slowely and carefully, a soft tune starting to play. Inside was the ring Christine also described. The gold band glinted and the diamond sparkled, and I didn't dare touch it. Something else caught my eye. On the inside of the lid was an inscription. 'To the one who broke the darkness yet left the pieces'
I sighed for the third time that night and turned around, leaving the lid open to let the music ring out into the night. I examined the rest of the room before my eyes fell on the bed. It was neatly made with a light blue comforter and on the pillow, a fresh red rose with a black silk ribbon tied around it. I gasped. He was alive. I dont know why I didn't realize it when I saw Christine's old room like this. I had to get out of here. I walked calmly back to the desk and slowly closed the music box, as to not break it, cutting off the music forever more.
"Don't do that. I was beginning to get attached to that little tune," said a scratchy voice behind me, making me jump. I spun around and saw in the doorway was a big, scruffy man with a gleam in his eye and a knife in his hand. He walked toward me and I backed up, a lump in my throat.
"W-what do you want?" I asked. He kept walking toward me and I kept backing up.
"You know what I want," he said with a smirk, his knife glinting in the light. What a stupid question. Of course I knew what he wanted. He might get it too. He had backed me up against the wall, next to the mirror, his knife against my neck, just below my jaw and ear. "What? You're not going to fight? Exactly how I wanted you. Quick and easy."
His hand traveled down my arm and stopped at my waitband. That's when I got mad.
"Still not going to fight? It's a good thing you don't because if you do... well..." he said, again, pressing the knife down a little more. I glared at him, brought my hand up to the knife and drew it across my neck, cutting and drawing blood.
"If you're going to threaten me with a kinfe, you might as well cut me a little," (A/N: Saw 2, not mine) I said darkly, before quickly bringing my knee up and pushing him away. He yelled out in pain, bringing his arms down quickly, catching my arm with the knife, cutting it very deeply. I cried out, grabbing my arm, blood seeping through my fingers. The man dropped the knife and I grabbed it, holding it out the best I could, blood running down my arm.
He finally stood and went to grab me, but I kicked him in the stomach and then pushed him in the stomach and then pushed him out the door into the wall across the hall. He yelled again and went to lunge for me again, but stopped in the middle fo the hall and stared at me with wide surprised eyes. My eyes widened as I backed up, watching him take a few stumbling steps backward and fell, sliding down the wall his knife sticking from his stomach. A sob escaped my mouth before I backed up and closed the door. Now there really wasn't anywhere for me to go, I just killed someone, and if my arm kept bleeding, I was going to die.
I looked down at my arm and imediatly got dizzy. There was blood seeping all the way down to the middle of my forearm. I wiped my hand on my skirt and then felt my neck. It was bleeding pretty bad as well. I put my hand back on my arm as it throbbed in pain, the room beginning to fade away, tears streaming down my face as I thought these were the last moments of my life.
I was alone in the world with no home and I thought I was dieing. How wrong I was.
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I do hope you liked it. PLEASE review.