Story Title: Metamorphosis of the Phantom

Rating: T...Will be M

Pairing: Erik (The Phantom)/ OC (Beatrix Laroux)

Summary: When a girl has were life taken away from her, she wants nothing more than to return home. But when she learns she has the chance to change a man's life, whom she's idolized her whole life, she decides to take the chance of a lifetime.

Disclaimer: I own nothing! Just manipulating the characters and bending them to my will!

WARNING: THIS STORY CONTAINS SEXUAL CONTENT! Thank you! ~

I'm switching to Thrid Person now for the remainder of the story. Hope you are enjoying so far.

Chapter 1

When Beatrix came to, she had a blistering headache and felt like vomiting. She pried her eyes open, only to shut them quickly once the sun decided to blind her. She raised a hand to cover her eyes and looked around the room. The room was completely unfamiliar, however, welcoming. "She is awake!" a strong French accented, English speaking, woman spoke, calling for someone.

Another woman came over, one with a wise look in her eyes. She was very thin with long dark blonde hair braided and wrapped around her head. She looked over Beatrix and examined her. She placed a hand on her forehead, then her cheeks. "Fetch a cool cloth," the woman spoke, looking at the girl who called for her. "She still has a fever."

The woman nodded and ran off, fetching the rag. The older woman sat on the bed, stroking Beatrix's hair. "How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Strange," Beatrix replied. She looked around the room, "Where am I?"

"You are in the Opera Populaire," the woman answered. "Here in Paris."

Beatrix looked at her funny. "How am I in the Opera Populaire? It's a fictional place?"

The woman smiled and said, "Silly, child. This place is very real. Do you remember anything from last night."

Beatrix thought for a moment and shook her head. She couldn't remember anything. The woman sighed and looked at her. "Child, I'm afraid I have some bad news. Last night, there was a fire. Your home burned to the ground. A dear friend of mine saved you. But as for your parents, they did not make it."

"My home?" Beatrix asked, unable to understand. "My family? A fire?"

"Yes, Child," the woman repeated. "Your home caught fire last night. Your parents were gone before anyone found you. I'm sorry."

Beatrix couldn't stop herself, she sat up and began crying. Bawling her eyes out, sobbing heavily. The woman put an arm around her and pulled her into a warm embrace. "It's okay, Child," she spoke, stroking Beatrix hair, "Let it all out."

Beatrix whipped her eyes, trying to contain her pain. Her parents and brother gone. Forever. She pulled her hands away, looking at them. She couldn't help but notice something wrong with her hands. "A mirror," Beatrix said very quietly.

"I'm sorry, Child," the woman spoke, "I didn't hear that."

"A mirror," Beatrix repeated, louder and more frantic. "A mirror please!"

Beatrix jerked from the woman and out of the bed. She ran across the room, in search of a mirror. She eventually found one, not to far off. Once there, she looked in it, unable to bare what she was seeing.

She was no longer 19 year old Beatrix anymore. She had aged backwards! She was 7 years old again; Her black hair shorter, curves gone, breasts flat as pancakes. This was to much! Why was she a child again? She screamed, unable to bare this weight any longer. She fainted, falling on to the floor.

The woman was right at her side when she fell, not understanding her panic. She carried her back to her bed. The maid returned with the wet cloth and the woman placed it on Beatrix's forehead. The two women looked at each other, the maid asking, "Madam Giry, what happened?"

"She fainted," Giry replied. "She's still in shock from the fire. Let's leave her be for the time being."

A few hours passed, Beatrix waking up alone. She sat up, hoping everything that had happened was all a dream. She looked around, seeing she was in the same room. She jumped out of bed and rushed to the mirror, seeing her child form. "How did this happen?" she asked herself, placing a hand on her cheek.

She looked up at the stain glass window, seeing night had fallen. She felt herself begin to collapse. She didn't remember a fire, but she did remember the last night she saw her parents. They were at the Paris Opera House. Then the actor Phantom grabbed her. After that, she was here. "The Gypsy!"

The door to her room opened, Madam Giry poking her head inside. "Are you awake, Child?" she asked, looking around the room. Beatrix turned and saw the woman entering the room.

"Yes," Beatrix replied, however not happy.

Madam Giry came and stood next to her, kneeling down and putting an arm around her. They both looked into the mirror and Beatrix just stared at herself. Giry stroked her hair, trying to comfort the once grown woman. "I know it is hard," Giry said, "But you are safe here. We will care for you and keep you safe, just as your parents did."

Beatrix remained silent. Had everything she experienced just a dream? The life she lived with her parents and brother in England and then France. Was is all a lie? The woman next to her, she knew her, but couldn't place a finger on her. As well as the Opera Populaire. She couldn't possibly be inside a story, could she?

"What is your name, Child?" Madam Giry asked, continuing to pet her hair.

"Beatrix Laroux," she answered. "What is yours?"

"I am Madam Giry," the woman replied, smiling at her.

'That can't be!' Beatrix thought to herself. 'She's just a made up character in a play! How can she be standing here?'

"I think I'm ready to go back to bed," Beatrix said, pulling from the woman's arms. Giry nodded and helped the girl to bed, tucking her in.

"Do you need anything?" Giry asked, making sure she was comfortable.

Beatrix shook her head, "No thank you. I would like to be alone right now."

Giry nodded and smiled, "Goodnight, Beatrix. Sleep well."

Once Madam Giry left the room, Beatrix began crying. She didn't want to be here, as a child. She wanted to go back home, to be with her mother, father, and even her annoying brother. She wanted them back. It felt as if she'd been crying for hours, quietly begging to go home.

"What are you crying about, Child?" a voice spoke. Beatrix looked around, seeing the same Gypsy woman.

Beatrix was back out of the bed and made her way to the woman. "What did you do to me!?" Beatrix shouted, but quiet enough to not wake anyone else.

"I did nothing, Child," the Gypsy replied. She pointed to the window, out and to the stars. "The Gods have chosen your fate."

"I'm a kid!" Beatrix said angrily, "I had a life! A family! Why was it all taken away from me?"

The woman smiled and held her hand out towards the bed. "Come, sit." They sat on the bed. "Your hand, Child," she said, Beatrix skeptically giving the woman her hand. The Gypsy traced the lines in her hand, reading her palm. "Yes, I see, I see."

"What?" Beatrix asked, demanding an answer.

"You have many choices to make," The Gypsy answered. "Your life has been reconstructed. You were once a child, here in this Paris, France. A fire started in your home, burning it. A man saved you, however you fell unconscious before you saw who your savior was. The Gods chose to get you the opportunity to make a choice. Did you ever wonder why your favorite play was Phantom of the Opera?"

"So I was born in some alternate reality?" Beatrix asked, confused.

"No, Child," the woman smiled, "You have lived one."

Beatrix looked at her hands, "So all this time, my life was a dream?"

"No, not entirely," the Gypsy answered. "But the Gods are telling me that you can chose which world you want to live in."

"Chose? How?!" Beatrix said with a hint of happiness.

"You know this story by heart," the woman explained, "The Gods wanted you to know it. There is a way to get back to your home. This story, this reality...you have to power to control it. You can continue the story how it was portrayed to you, or you can change the lives of many people. If you choose to let the story end how you have seen it performed on stage, you will go home. However, if you choose to change the story, you will stay here. If his heart is torn from his chest in the end, you will go home."

"His heart?" Beatrix asked, thinking hard. "So this is real. I have to live this story to the end, to go home."

"Yes, Child," the Gypsy answered. "However, you have a few years a head of your before you can go home. I"m sorry, but it is the will of the Gods."

"No!" Beatrix shouted, jumping from the bed and pacing the room. "No, no, nononono! This, this is impossible! I'm dreaming! Yes, that's it. This is just a terrible nightmare! I'll wake up and everything will return to normal. Yes, I just have to wake up."

She began slapping herself in the face, running around the room and hitting her head against the wall. The Gypsy woman smiled and chuckled to herself. "You can perceive this anyway you choose, but only by playing out this 'dream' can you go home."

"I WANT TO GO HOME NOW!" Beatrix shouted at her, unable to stand the anger coursing threw her, her body shaking.

"I'm sorry, Child," the woman stood and approached the mirror. "But the only thing you can do, is see this 'dream' to the end."

She stepped into the mirror, disappearing into it. Beatrix rushed to the mirror, seeing she couldn't pass through like the Gypsy. She fell to her knees, crying into her hands.

"I just want to go home."

Please review! I hope you liked it! Just need a review/favorite/follow/PM/WHATEVER! And you will have the next installment of the story! Flames welcome!

Much loves! ~ Franky Toran