The tragedy that befell the Paris Opera House remained the talk of the town for months to come. Some say the owner of the opera house had gone mad due to post war affairs and tried to burn the place alive. Others say that the recent eerie events plaguing prima donna Christine Daae before she disappeared is to blame.
Sophie...she believes none of it. She would rather hear the story from Erik himself as to what brought down his life's dream. He may have gone mad but perhaps what spent him a decade to build and flourish would not be destroyed by his own hands. There must be a reason. Sophie believes that she will find the answer to the whereabouts of her old friend.
To start her search, she must look for clues to where it all began.
The Paris Opera House. Standing just beyond her reach, stood the once country renowned opera house that captured the hearts of many who entered. Now it is only but a shell of its former glory.
Sophie's shoes crunch against brown crestfallen leaves. She weaves her way through the thick branches that obstruct the entrance to the opera house. It stands before her tall and desolate, devoid of life.
There is no turning back. She makes her way over to the towering gates.
The winter blows a cold breeze toward two middle aged men. They brush over dust and air with brooms. One of them, Armand Moncharmin wrings out his hands back and forth in frustration. His mind has surely been filled with snow bunnies by now.
"I've scrubbed the entirety of this stone floor a gazillion times. Ah, my mind is going mad with boredom! Oh how I missed the sparkling days of the Opera House. Now? It's halloween day by day."
"Heh. Then shall we perhaps, indulge in a little game then monsieur?"
"Monsieur Firmin, you do know how I love games. Alright, what will it be?"
Firmin ponders it over in his head. A brilliant idea comes to mind.
"Ah! We can indulge in a game of wits. I say-"
Monsieur Firmin's words come to an abrupt halt as a woman's voice echoes in the distance. They both look at each other in unison as if to confirm that they really did indeed hear a woman's voice. Armand opens his mouth to respond but Firmin raises his hand to silence him. Both men approach the voice of the woman cautiously.
"Hello? Anyone there!"
Sophie's cries echo throughout the vicinity. Her teeth chatter and grind against each other. She is miles away from the nearest loding and has been screaming at the top of her lungs amongst the blazing snow for minutes now.
Maybe she shouldn't have been so reckless as to believe someone would still be present at the paris opera house. After all carriages don't just come flying from thin air in this era and age. There is no other way to get to the next lodging unless she walks on foot but by then she'd be frosty the snowman.
"Hello? Is there anyone there? I would like to have a word with you! Please, I beg you! Let me in!"
Both men creep behind one of the thick trees.
Would you look at that. A woman! Firmin and Armand don't remember the last time they laid eyes on a woman and a pretty one too. She is picture perfect against the scenery of velvety blankets of snow. Her clothes are old with visible holes that seem almost too small to fit her actual body size. They watch as her body trembles against the airy snow.
"We should let the poor girl in. She may freeze to death."
Firmin shakes his head. "Nay, don't you remember monsieur? He has forbade anyone, especially women to enter this place. We'll be throttled, or worse, buried underneath the snow alive!"
"Oh we've been lacking in human interactions but we should still have heart ya old fool. I'd rather die than watch someone in front of me suffer a slow and pointless death. Come, help me remove the locks from the gates so we can let the poor girl inside."
Armand ignores his friends worries and proceeds toward the girl. Firmin repeatedly shakes his head in fear and pulls his dear friend back.
"Oh no no no no no. He is NOT going to like this. I repeat if you go over there I'm afraid we're dead meat for the wolves out there."
"Well what do you suppose we do? Ah! Looks like she is planning her break in eh?"
Firmin watches slack jawed as the woman has her skirts hiked up with her hands positioned on the bars. He turns away as no proper woman should ever expose their knees to other gentlemen unless it is her husband of course.
Armand clicks his tongue. "Come, let us inform him of the unwanted visitor lingering out in the front gates before she becomes a sack of bones out here."
Both men scurry through the snow and into the Paris opera house. The unwanted visitor in question is determined not to give up until she is able to set foot inside. Sophie closes her eyes and prays to the lord like a mantra. Oh please lord, help me through this and guarantee my entrance and survival. She did not come this far to turn back. With all her might, Sophie uses the rocks as stepping stones to climb onto the stone walls. The walls have areas which her foot can step on.
The only trick is to keep finding positions so her arms and legs can continue to proceed. Her body warms up as she holsters herself halfway through the stone wall. Whatever you do Sophie, don't look down. She looks down. At that precise moment, her legs misses the next crevice. Cold gusts of wind blows against her skin. She closes her eyes and a bone rattling sound echoes. Deep pain forces her eyes to jolt open. The fall was securely broken by one of her legs which now throbs and has become streaked with a deep purple bruise.
How fantastic. Now her chances of survival were close to none. Sophie leans against the gates. The fatigues slowly washes over her mind. Oh what a stupid girl you are Sophie! No use becoming angry at oneself. She needed to think and quick!...But it was useless as her body grew numb all over. The lids that fought to stay open flutter away to complete darkness.