She awoke from her slumber with a burst to life. Bolting upright in the plush bed her eyes quickly glanced over everything in the room before her. The surrounding scene was strikingly unfamiliar. It was of the utmost luxurious design of a historical period. Her green eyes fell over each of the numerous gold candelabras- the candle pegs ranged from three to as many as nine. They were placed sparingly throughout the room so that there was no shadowy corner in view. She wondered why there were no electrical lights- unless she had come to be in a display room for a museum or something of the sort. If this was a personal residence the owner of the estate was unquestionably wealthy and she decided it must be a preference to choose candle light over electrical.

The bedding consisted of one white silk sheet, a thicker red velvet sheet, and a black satin comforter. Within her mind there was no memory of going to sleep here. She could not recall any recent event that might have led her here. A fleeting thought reminded her that she had been going to rehearsal... and that the trees were starting to change colors. To her best knowledge it seemed she could account for everything in her life prior to whatever directly led to this scene. Being in the bed of someone else was not a regular occurrence for her and she began to wonder if this was a dream or something more sinister.

Rising from the bed she pulled the sheets back to their original place and smoothed out the creases. Now it looked as if she had never been there. Tucked neatly beside the bed were her boots. Sliding back into them she walked over the palatial carpets and glossy floor. A newfound sense of curiosity was overwhelming her. Filled with an urge to discover more about this lavishing place she entered the conjoining corridor. The only sound was her heels softly coming in contact with the floor. After weaving through the short hallway a crossroads lay before her. The passage way she was in continued on ahead of her and the other diverted to the left. The continuous wall spanning along her right side had the texture of a cave. It was uneven and carried to pattern. The pathway to the left held her thoughts captive for there was faint interludes of music heard. Treading carefully, she diverted from the main corridor.

The music grew louder as she moved closer, yet, it still sounded as if just around the corner. The corridor she had stepped into had no other conjunctions. Instead it led her to another chamber room. The room was partially within her sight from the cover of the rugged cave wall. The organ was close to reaching the musical peak and she decided to sneak in quietly when the organ was loudest.

Closing her eyes to take a moment and calm her mind- she set foot in the chamber. Opening her eyes as she rounded the corner illuminated the room. Without warning the music vanished. This room was much colder than the dimly lit corridor she had come from. Heedfully she dived further into the chamber. Across the uneven rocky floor she noticed an oboe- her's. It was placed on an instrument stand and appeared to be fine. Walking over to it became difficult as the room was engulfed in darkness. Suddenly the candles flickered out and her exhaling breath turned into a brief mist. She spun around to see nothing from where she came, the open space she had entered from disappeared. Everything was covered in darkness. She froze and listened intently... there was another in the chamber with her.

"Ah, the young Magician has stirred at long last." A cold sardonic voice spoke. She had never been called a magician before and wondered what prompted this."Have you come to reunite with the living? Or perhaps join the dead is more appropriate." The voice carried on. She could not tell the source of it. One sentence sounded far off to the left of her, yet another was out of her reach on the right. The last sentence was spoken right behind her, causing her to turn her head to the right slightly. Her shoulders did not sway, only the minor tilt of her head. The voice noticed her movement regardless. "I am over here, Magician." Sounding directly in the darkness in front of her. "No? Maybe over here." Was heard below her down at the ground.

"Who are you?"

"Is that all you are capable of asking?" He asked, she could hear the masculine of his voice. It was dripping with an insulting tone.

"Are you incapable of answering?" She lashed back at him. Her tone was steely and steady. She was unaware that she had previously poised him with the same exact question earlier. Realizing this must be some lucid dream she did not feel afraid.

"I am known by many names such as- The Opera Ghost, The Angel of Music, and The Phantom of the Opera!" He thundered throughout the chamber. She turned to her left, and stepped forward. She had found where the mysterious man was concealing himself. Three times now she had heard his voice from over in this direction. She became caught in his fierce gaze as they made unexpected eye contact. The luminous yellow orbs flashed vividly at her. Not familiar with the dark chamber she stumbled and fell to the floor as a rope was flung around her.

Thrashing around proved only futile in her attempts to be free. The rope was bond tighter as is constricted around her arms plastering them to her sides. The loss of balance prevented her from standing again not to mention she was in light pain from falling to the rough ground. The light returned to the room as the candles lit themselves.

"You are proving to be quite cumbersome." He spoke to her, as he moved closer she saw him to be a rather sumptuous man. His long cape gave the impression of a man with a large physique. "Your incommodious behavior is not appreciated." He added as he stood over her flailing mass. His voice sounded exasperated, but he showed no physical signs of it.

"My dearest apologizes, I did not realize tying me up was proving to be out of your control." She spat at him. A scowl was strewn across her face. The lighting was almost at a normal level. She could see he only wore black, his hat lying upon his head hid combed dark hair. The right side of his face was concealed by a mask.

"Quite the contrary, little Magician, I expected someone of your grandeur to elude me temporarily and quite frankly impress me." He spoke in a sharp and critiquing tongue. She had no idea as to what she had done to him that reasoned with his expectations. "Would you be so kind as to tell me what you are called?" He asked, in a mockingly nice tone. He crouched down so that they were closer to eye level with one another.

She muttered under her breath something he did not catch.

"Come, come, now! I told you mine, do not turn shy now." He commanded.

"Lindsay Durham." She spoke clearly with confidence. Her eyes became transfixed as she looked at his.

"Excellent." He said with approval. "Now, Miss Durham, will you please inform me of how you came to enter my domain?"