I looked up at the facade of the building shielding my eyes from the harsh midday sun. The Palais Garnier, the site of the famous opera ghost incident. Continuing up the steps I push open the door. Stepping inside I sigh in relief from getting out of the cold winter air. Looking around the first thing I notice is the shining marble staircase, the stairs draped in a deep blood red carpet. Above me hanging from the ceiling were statues of the angels and muses, all glittering in gold and freshly polished by the staff. Lost in my own thoughts, I don't hear or see the person coming down the stairs, their steps muffled by the carpet.
"Excuse me mademoiselle, but do you have an appointment with the manager?" A woman's voice asked from behind me, shaking me out of my reverie. Turning around I notice a tall and slim middle aged woman standing on the stairs. She looked at me over her glasses, which were perched on her crooked nose.
"Oh, um, yes. My name is Ella Beauchamp. I wrote earlier this week requesting an audience?" I answer, slightly startled by the woman and how quiet she was. Looking down at her small book that I can only guess to be her planner, the woman looks up at me and gives me some form of a smile, that more looks like a grimace.
" Ah yes, Miss Beauchamp, you are a little early, so please follow me to the manager's office." She states and starts to quickly walk away. Adjusting my messenger bag to my back, I pick up my skirts and follow the woman with haste. Reaching the top of the stairs we walk down a dark corridor with different offshoots that I can only imagine lead to the theater area and backstage area. Arriving at the door at the end of the hall the woman gestures for me to sit in a chair outside the door. Opening the office door the woman steps in to check if the manager is not busy.
As I wait there, I feel the hair on the back of my neck prickle, like I'm being watched, standing up, I spin around, noticing nothing , I sit back down. Taking out my journal I review the questions I will be asking. The feeling of being watched doesn't go away, but it does lessen. After a few minutes has passed, the office door opens letting a bit of light out into the dark hall.
"The manager will see you now, Miss Beauchamp." The gray haired woman states as she gestures to the room. Entering the room, the first thing I notice is the dark haired man
behind the giant desk.
"Hello, Miss Beauchamp, I am Mr. Richard. How do you do?" The man asks me, standing up to show his, not at all, attractive small pot belly, and sticking out his hand. Taking his hand I shake it before we both sit down.
"I am well, and you?" I respond, smoothing out my skirts as I sit in the cushioned chair.
"Very good, now what would you like to talk to me about today?" Mr. Richard asked as he leaned forward and steepled his fingers together on the dark wood desk.
Looks like it's straight to business, I think to myself as I open my journal.
"I actually wanted to ask you about the infamous Opera Ghost. I heard about the incident from a friend and I was just fascinated by the concept. I was wondering, did the Opera Ghost actually exist?" I asked leaning forward, hoping to hear a positive answer. The man's smile shifted to look more like a grimace. He sat back and sighed, his face sported a look of resignation.
"Yes the Opera Ghost was real, and he was a real menace to the opera house." The man spat out running a hand through his hair, "He was always demanding one thing or another. He terrorized the old Prima Donna, Carlotta Guidicelli, and every month he would request a salary of 20,000 Francs a month. While he claimed all of this was to help the opera house, it caused more harm than good."
Writing all that he said down in my leather bound journal, I look at the next question i have written. Ah, yes the case concerning Christine Daae.
"And is it true he was infatuated with the opera singer Christine Daae?"
The manager nodded, "Ah yes, the girl who won all of Paris. All we know, is that the Phantom favored the girl to have star roles, and that after the incident where she was kidnapped during the performance, both she, the Vicomte Raoul De Chagny and the Phantom disappeared, never to be seen or heard of again."
Making a note of that, I look at my last question. Hoping the manager will let me look around and gather clues, I ask it.
"Monsieur Richard, I was wondering, may I have a look around the opera house? I just think if i see the spaces that everyone spent time in, I might get a better idea of the story. " Shifting in my seat I watch his face with pleading eyes.
Please say yes, please say yes.
The Manager sits up and straightens his cravat, "Well, I don't see why not. But be careful Mademoiselle, it is very easy to get lost in the halls," The manager says with a tone of warning in his voice. I nod and stand up, thanking the manager for his time, I exit the office and step out into the hall that is now lit with oil lamps.
Walking down the hall, that feeling of being watched comes back, looking over my shoulder, I see nothing. Shrugging off the feeling, I head down the first offshoot. Following the corridor, I end up in the the backstage area, near the dressing rooms. Stepping up to the first dressing room, I make out the name of Christine Daae on a name plaque. Yes, this is what I was looking for. Opening the door, I stepped into the room, still dark as it was not in use. I take in the furniture covered in sheets as to not gather dust, it's not hard to imagine a ghost of the past lingering in the room.
Stepping over the sheets and small stool by the vanity in the room, I approach the full length mirror in the room. Thinking back to the rumors I have heard about the mirror being a passage way down into the bowels of the opera house, I run my fingers down the edges of the mirror hoping to find a catch or something that might prove the rumor to be true. After a few minutes of searching I finally find what I'm looking for. Pressing the trigger the mirror swings open hitting me in the nose. Rubbing my nose I descend down into the dark rocky corridor.
Down, Down, down into the dark, running my hand along the wall so I didn't get lost. Suddenly the wall disappeared, not expecting this I tripped and fell cutting my hand, scraping my knee and bumping my head on the ground.
"Foutre!" I exclaim as I sit back on my heels. Wincing I slowly stand making sure not jostle my head too much. Slowly looking around I notice there is one torch burning bright, as if someone was expecting me. The sound of water catches my attention, to my left I notice a small dock and by the dock a gondola.
I walk over to the boat dock. Stepping into the boat, I pick up the oar. Standing on the gondolier part of the boat, I push away from the dock and immediately lose my balance. Falling into the water I begin to swim back to the boat, when I feel something wrap around my leg. Pulled down, my head is fully submerged. Panicking, I try to see what has me, the water being too dark to see anything I try to get my head above water. Finally breaking the top of the water I scream out.
"Help! Help! Please if anyone can hear me, help!" I screech. As the words leave my mouth and echo around the cavern, I am pulled back under. Breathing in was a mistake as water flooded in and choked me. I try to struggle against the pull, but find it's no use. Becoming slack the world starts to darken as my lungs scream for air.
The last thing I remember before I blackout is a pair of arms untangling my leg and lifting me out of the water.