Holy canolies, people! You have to remind me how long I've been away from fan fiction! Well, to make it up for the Dracula fic (totally lost that one), here's a new Phantom one. I thought of this during math today. Thanks, Mrs. Gavigan, for making no sense to me, otherwise I wouldn't be writing this story. :P
English. One of my worst subjects. And I had it eighth hour.
Oh, my name's Ava. Ava Rose Salem. I'm from New Hampshire, where I live with my mom and sister. Don't ask about my dad, or I'll rip your head off. He's dead, alright?
It was your typical fall day at Hamilton Preparatory Academy. I was walking to English with a couple of friends, who weren't really my friends. I was a sort of outsider, the odd one, who read the oldest books, watched older TV shows, the girl who should've been born in another decade. I basically followed the people in my classes around, pretending like I fit in for my mom's benefit only. She worries about me. If it weren't for her, I'd walk around by myself all day.
My English teacher could be considered a friend, but also an enemy. He'd lend me books, the old ones that I liked so much, but played the strict teacher during class. Mr. Barker. My only friend in this jailhouse of a school.
"Good afternoon, Miss Salem," Mr. Barker said in a mock British accent. I laughed.
"Hey, Mr. Barker," I said. He winked at me, tossing me a book.
"Hope you like it," he said. I grinned, walking toward my seat.
After unpacking, I was able to get a good look at the book. The Phantom of the Opera, by Gaston Leroux. I'd heard about it before, but I'd never read it. Flipping through the pages, a note fell out.
To whomever this may concern,
I trust that you are an avid reader, and have at least heard stories of the elusive Phantom. If not, when you're transported- What?- read up on him as much as possible. Maybe you'll survive his clutches. This book is a bit hard to follow, so I advise the musical version, or one of the movies.
Good luck,
M. Rousseau
I blinked. What the…?
With a shrug, I set the book down at the corner of my desk, pulling out my notebook for English, and began working on the day's three paragraph warm up. I finished in less than five minutes, then picked up the book and began reading the prologue.
The prologue went on about Gaston's research, then chapter one hit me like a ton of bricks, introducing all the characters in one chapter. I barely made it to chapter four, when Mr. Barker started the day's lesson.
Time seemed to drag on. I wanted desperately to return to that mysterious book, and when the last bell finally rang, I was beyond relieved. I ran the entire length to my house, and was panting hard as I pushed the key into the lock of the front door.
I hurriedly entered the house, shutting and locking the front door, and jumping to the couch, flipping the book open, when another note flew out.
Once more, my friend, watch the musical. The book will not help.
You are running out of time.
M. Rousseau
I was stunned. Who was this guy? How did these notes get into my book?
I smirked. If Mr. Barker was playing a prank on me, it was a good one. With a laugh, I tossed the paperback aside- as if I needed it.
Almost instantly, the front door fell down.
I screamed.
The doors and windows of the house were blasting apart, flying away into an oblivion of nothing. The walls crumbled, and as they nearly crushed me, they evaporated into thin air. Around me was no longer my house, or the outside of my house, for that matter.
I was in a stone corridor, the kind you read about in fantasy books, where the characters live in castles or something. I could hear moving water in the distance, like a lake or pond. Immediately upon my realizations, candelabras appeared, lining the hallway, their golden light causing the corridor to seem even more eerie that it had.
I looked around suspiciously. Walking forward, I stepped on something. A piece of paper. It read,
You have no more time, my friend.
Welcome to the Opera Garnier.
So, what do you think? Should I continue? Give me your opinions! REVIEW!