A/N: I DO NOT OWN Phantom of the Opera, nor am I making any profit off of this. The only things I do own are Genevieve and Lili, one is my character while the other is a friend's who has allowed me to borrow her. Thank you for your patience and now on with our tale…
P.S Phantom may be OC as I am not used to writing his character yet, I should get his character down soon though.
In the dark passage way far beneath the famous Paris Opera Houses two figures were venturing bravely forth into the unknown. Well, one of them was at least.
"Genni, why does this guy have to live in such a scary place?! Why not somewhere with more..." a gulp is heard. "Light?!"
Genevieve, a girl of medium stature, attempted to calm her fearful companion down. "Relax Lili, He's the ghost so why would he live anywhere else? Besides, I think we're almost to the lake."
The short child snorted in an unwomanly fashion. "Great, instead of being lost forever in this impenetrable darkness there's a high chance we might drown. Perfect, just bloody perfect." After a pause, "Genni, I want to tell you something."
"What is it?" The elder asked in genuine surprise.
"If we die down here, I'm going to throttle you on the other side."
Genni laughed. "Oh, stop jesting. We both know you would never hurt me. We should be found soon anyways."
"Found! You mean like in one of those oh-so-predictable horror stories!"
"With your screams, the arrival time should have been increased to right about... now."
As if predicted by the gods themselves a shadow had appeared out of seemingly thin air and approached the girls cautiously, almost warily as if they would flee like frightened gazelles. The ghost had, of course, been following the duo since they had first entered his domain, listening to the children bicker, carrying on in the dark. The elder was right and he had no trouble finding them after the small one's scream. With the elegance of a panther He easily placed his person in their path. Which resulted in . . .
"ARGHHHHH!!" and also the iron tight grip on His deathly cold hand. This only tightened instead of releasing immediately on contact. For these young Mademoiselles the darkness was unfaltering and they could perceive nothing at all except for the vaguest of figures while He could see all. The one across the passage had long dark hair, a pleasant face and a dress that rivaled those of the highly aristocratic of the day. Her expression was one of complete shock which he dismissed for now. Turning his attentions to the one who held his suit in an unwavering clutch. This girl only came to his mid torso, hair uncharacteristically short for women of that time, featuring a young prepubescent face which while not unpleasant but was . . . odd as if something was off about this creature.
"Light?" The whisper was almost nonexistent but with his unnatural senses he heard. A match was produced and the walls illuminated. Two pairs of dark eyes glanced questionably at him, one in expectance the other gratitude.
What will happen to our heroines? Shall we discover who this mysterious ghost is? Find out next time in "Of Comedy and Tragedy"