A/N: Hey guys and welcome to my first fanfic! yeah, remember your first time? i bet you weren't as clueless as i am, so apologies if it takes a while for me to update. still a few more weeks of school and learning the ropes of ff but after that, i will rule the world! nah, just kidding.
Anyway, to save myself from saying this over and over: I do not and will never own Phantom of the Opera, it's awesome characters, storyline or anything else. I do however call dibs on this plot and a few original characters (Dr. T. Copper and possibly a few more along the way...) but look out for some movie/musical/book references. I don't own those either. And I don't own Spence Academy or Gemma Doyle or the surname I use for Erik (Guerrier)
Chapter 1
Christine shook her head exasperatedly as she shifted through the stack of the Baron Louis d'Etienne's sickeningly sweet, "charming" letters.
The Baron was a very good looking, young, successful aristocrat who'd had his fair share of women and still could get any woman he wanted.
It was just her misfortune that she was that new woman.
Because of his near-undetectable arrogant air, womanizing reputation and slave trading rumours from the black market that she heard from trusty sources, she refused his offer of courtship about a year ago.
She thought that would've been the last she'd heard of him and he'd get bored of her shutting him out, but she was wrong.
She had been away at Spence Academy, England, for most of the year, patiently enduring the lessons of etiquette, art and languages that she excelled at with her eyes closed, and at least once every month the Baron had written to her and she grudgingly wrote back.
She put in enough hints that she wasn't interested but either the man was blind or ignoring her.
She even stayed at her friend Gemma Doyle's manor at Christmas since she knew he would pounce the second she stepped back onto American soil.
Her refusal must have wounded his bloated pride and he seemed to have set himself the task of pestering her until she accepted his suit.
"Well good luck with that," she smirked, stuffing the letters into the lantern that hung outside her cabin and watching as they burned.
She sighed.
It had been an agonizingly long few weeks at sea with no one but her chaperone Mrs. Brown and occasionally the cabin boy, Tom, to talk to.
She was torn between wanting to be home already and dreading the Baron's greeting so she decided she might as well be content with the now.
She was just so bored.
She loved Mrs. Brown as she was infinitely kind and comforting but she soon grew restless and their hours were often filled with comfortable silence.
And though 12-year-old Tom was fun to talk to, he was always busy with chores and slept whenever he had free time.
The captain was a slightly eccentric old sailor who communicated via incoherent grunts and mumbles and the rest of the crew were either superstitious cynics who avoided her and Mrs. Brown like the plague because "it's bad luck 'avin a woman on er ship" or perverted scoundrels who were the reason she kept a letter opener in her bodice.
"Miss Daaé? What are you doing?"
Her head snapped to the voice and she smiled.
"Oh, nothing, Mrs. Brown," she said, glancing at the now ash-filled lantern.
"Hmm," said her chaperone, eyeing her sceptically. "I'll take that as 'Oh don't worry, I haven't killed anyone, Mrs. Brown.'"
"I disposed of the bodies this time."
"But you did it the American way."
" 'The American way'? And what way is that?"
"Shooting the brains out of someone, throwing the body away but forgetting to clean up the scene of the crime."
"Hmph. As if your English ways are better."
"It is. I only need talk of which of which piece of cutlery to use with which dish and-"
"No!" Christine cried. "I've had enough of that talk in Spence! Lord, spare me this completely superfluous torture, please!"
"All right, all right, into the cabin now, missy. Tom'll bring up supper in a few minutes."
"With only a knife and fork?"
"Why spoil the surprise?"
"Why not say?"
"Does a grown woman have to have reasons for everything?"
"How long will you be able to answer in questions?"
"How old is my grandmother?"
"How am I meant to know?"
"Ladies?"
They both turned to the boy at the doorway.
"Yes?" they said simultaneously and then laughed.
The boy, Tom, looked at them curiously, shook his head then placed their food on the table, setting the cutlery as he went.
"Thank you very much, Tom," Christine smiled, brushing her brown hair from her face as she sat down. "Come, join us."
"Yes, do," Mrs. Brown said, cutting the meat. "You work too hard with too little rest."
The boy smiled tiredly. "Believe me, ma'am, I'd love to join you but I still got a few chores that I wan' 'o finish early so it be a good long nights' sleep for me."
"Hmm." Christine frowned as she ate. "I'll have to talk to your captain about the way you're treated."
"No, I'm flattered, miss, but really, it's no' a problem."
"How many hours are you sleeping ?"
"Errr, an hour or two before 'o crack o' dawn..."
"I rest my case."
"But Miss Christine-"
"WE'RE BEING ATTACKED! GET YOUR SWORDS AND RIFLES YA BUNCH OF SCUM, GO!"
They gasped, heads turning, too shocked to do anything but watch figures rush about outside their door.
Between the nearly closed curtains, Christine saw the mast and sails of another ship and people swinging on ropes onto their deck.
Then she saw a flash of white cut through the chaos like a beacon, but swiftly disappeared.
She snapped out of her reverie, jumping up and grabbing anything she put her hands on.
Tom ran and closed the curtains, locked the doors and turned to run back to them when a shot rang out; simultaneously the shattering of glass stopped them in their tracks.
Both women looked at the boy; Tom looked down at his dirty shirt, slowly turning crimson at the chest, fell flat on his front and was still.
Before they could react, the cabin door cracked open and a dark figure stood there, the lanterns flanking the doorway illuminating a plump, spectacled but otherwise kind face.
Christine swallowed her fear and said, clutching Mrs. Brown's hand firmly, "Who are you?"
The man cocked his head and smiled gently.
"Evening, ladies," he said warmly. Christine relaxed slightly at his tone.
Maybe this man was sent by the captain to take them to some safe hidden cupboard or something.
The man bowed. "I am Dr. T. Copper, but Cop will do."
Christine ran to him, pointing frantically at Tom's bloodied form.
"Then you must help him, sir! He could still be saved!"
The doctor knelt down, examining the boy's wound, then shaking his head and taking rope from his coat.
"I'm afraid it's too late, miss," he said, standing and looping one end of the rope.
"W-what's the rope for?"
He looked up and smiled apologetically.
"This."
So quickly Christine didn't even realise it, he circled her wrist with the looped end of the rope, yanked the other around her back and secured them both tightly.
Mrs. Brown screamed and went to throw something but the man raised a pistol and she froze.
"Come peacefully, madam, I hate resorting to murder. Oy, captives here!"
Figures jumped from the open doorway and bound the shocked woman before dragging her out.
Dr. Copper turned Christine's chin from her chaperone and inspected her face and nodding in approval.
"Pretty thing you are, aren't you? Come on, time to meet the Captain."
She jerked her face away and tried to kick him but she found herself looking into the barrel of his pistol.
"Come on, miss, I'll ask one more time. Onto the deck now, dear."
Christine sighed and did as she was told, very much aware of the gun pressed to her back and the rough cords binding her wrists.
She stepped out of her cabin and was met with three images that would forever stick in her mind.
Firstly, the whole crew of her ship were just a mass of blood and gore, their mouths still open in shock and pain.
Secondly, the sea of faces that stood above the defeated looking at her with avid interest.
She shuddered.
And thirdly, the bright white of a leather mask covering the upper right half of a terrifying man's face as he stared at her with intense silver eyes.
How'd it go? Please review!
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