Hey all! Okay so I got a new hit of inspiration and so I started another story about (what else?) The Phantom of the Opera! Don't worry, "Saving an Angel" is not going to get abandoned.

As I am still an amateur writer, I thank all of you for reading my stories, and PLEASE! leave REVIEWS, I love to read them! and it is from your comments that I could improve.

Anyways, I hope y'all enjoy!

Chapter 1: Welcome to the Phantom's Theatre

With the speed of a wild pony, little Diana Johansson ran towards her group of friends, her face ashen, her petite frame shaking. Usually it is not easy to scare Diana, she had always been strong and open minded, though even she cannot help but be frightened. After all, hearing a blood curdling scream in your dressing room is hardly calming. Ignoring the looks the ballet rats threw at her; Diana put her hands on her knees as she bent over and panted.

"Geez Diana, what's gotten into you?" Millie, one of the ballerinas said as she put a comforting arm around her friend's shoulders.

"I heard… I heard…" Diana stuttered. Millie patted her back and with one final cough and a deep breath Diana whispered sharply "I heard a girl screaming in our dressing room!"

The ballet girls stared at her. The older girls rolled their eyes and continued to chat. The younger ones looked startled, as they looked at their trembling friend for more explanation.

"A girl screaming?" Annabelle inquired, and Diana nodded. At age twelve, being the oldest amongst her friends of young ballerinas, Annabelle Chan was considered the leader of the group. The others looked at her in anticipation, hopping she would sort the situation out.

"Do you know who it was?" Annabelle asked taking Diana's hands and sitting her down on the warm-up mat.

Diana shook her head profusely, "No, but it was the scariest thing I have ever heard!"

"Shh, it's alright." Tania knelt beside her and rubbed her back. "You're here now, you're safe."

"Who could it be?" The other girls started rambling, fear evident in their eyes. "What could have happened?" "It's a good thing none of us were there." "Who could have caused it?"

"Why, the Phantom of the Opera of course!"

The girls looked up and saw one of the older girls Meg Giry walking towards them. Her lush blonde hair tied securely in a high ponytail, her pink tutu accenting her small waist. With the natural grace of a skilled ballerina, Meg skipped over.

The young girls gasped. "The Phantom!"

"Yes indeed," Meg nodded a sneaky smile on her face. "You see legend has it, that the Phantom of the Opera hunts our theatre, he knows everything that goes on in this opera. Some say that he is devilishly handsome, hiding his perfect visage behind a porcelain white mask for mortals are unworthy to glance upon such beauty. However, most say that he is hideously deformed, that he is the sprawl of the Devil himself. Nevertheless he haunts this theatre, punishing any who dares demonstrate imperfection. In fact, he is watching you right now…"

The girls screamed and Meg chuckled. "Be careful now, or the Phantom-"

"Meg Giry!" came her mother the strict ballet instructor. She thumped her cane on the floor and all the girls, older and young rose to attention, standing like perfect little soldiers. Meg included.

"Yes mother? I mean, Madame?" Meg stammered in a little voice. Her air of confidence and malicious gone.

"What have I said about telling useless stories to scare the little ones?!" Madame Giry scowled at her daughter.

"But Mama…Madame!" Meg quickly fixed her speech, "I was just warning them and-"

"By scaring then with lies is hardly helping."

"But the Phantom is real!" Meg cried desperately. "The notes, the voices and-"

"That is enough Meg," her mother's eyes flashed and her tone clearly signaled 'end of discussion'. "Now come, warm up is over. We rehearse!"

Two hours later, Meg ran straight to her dressing room to check up on her friend. With her head help high she passed her mother without looking at her with a sharp "hmm!" Madame Giry rolled her eyes.

Running as fast as her dancer's legs could carry her, Meg dashed down the hallway, hopping to spend the rest of the day with her friend who was sick today. Stopping at last in front of their dormitory.

However, before she could open the door, Meg heard a beautiful soprano's voice rang through the air. Her breath caught in her throat, Meg pressed her head onto the door.

"Well done my dear," came a haunting melodious male voice that made Meg's knees shake.

"Thank you Maestro!" answered the young soprano.

"Christine?" Her friend's name came out of her mouth before Meg herself realized it.