Darkness had settled over the sleeping city. The full moon hung high in
the velvet black sky, as stars twinkled, slowly fading behind puffs of gray
clouds. Lights dimmed in the houses as streetlights fought back the
shadows from the sidewalks. Tavern doors were open, showing the giddy
people full of booze and delight.
A young man trotted down the street, a bouquet of fresh red roses in his gloved hands. His black cape floated behind him, revealing the nicely pressed suit he wore. A top hat rested on his head, hiding his strawberry blonde hair.
The wind rustled by, tossing the man's hat from his head. He turned and cursed under his breath. Without another thought he ran after it. His footsteps echoed off the cobblestone street, his free hand reaching for the tumbling hat wildly.
Finally the top hat came to a stop, tumbling to the ground. The man smiled and scooped the hat up, his breathing slowing from his run. He examined his hat, brushing off a few grains of dirt with a slight frown. With a sigh he placed it on his head. Adjusting the object, the man turned to begin his journey down the street.
Suddenly a soft meow slithered from the darkness. The man came to a stop, wondering if it was just his imagination. He looked around his feet, only to find a Siamese kitten sitting beside him and at the entrance of an alley. The young cat looked up at him with crystal blue eyes, unblinking and a soft purr escaping its small frame. Its charcoal colored tail flopped around.
"Why, hello there!" the man said with a smile. He knelt down and held out his gloved hand. The kitten sniffed it and looked him in the eye. "I've never seen a feline like you around here. You must belong to someone of high class!"
A soft meow came from the cat, like some type of reply. Those blue eyes blinked and twinkled in the soft light around them
The man chuckled. "Well, I have no time to chat to such a petty thing." He patted the Siamese on the head, which was greeted by a soft meow. "Now, off with you. It would be a terrible thing to find such a creature dead in the street."
"In deed it would."
The voice, which spoke, seemed to flow from the darkness behind the cat. It held a power with in itself, but came out as soft and coy. A muted laugh followed as the man's eyes widened with fear of who ever spoke to him.
The man stood, his eyes fixated on the darkness of the alley. His dark blue eyes strained to find the source of the voice, but could not find a single person. His heart beat heavily in his chest, his eyes growing wider with fear as the laughter continued. The flowers in his hand quivered as he began to shake with fear.
Without a word the man turned to leave but came face to face with a tall man. A soft, rose-colored porcelain mask covered half of the man's face, leaving a beautifully shaped opening for his brown eyes. The man was tall and wore an elegant suit and cloak. The bare skin of his face was pale, and his black hair brushed back, whisking around his ears.
"Good evening, sir." he said with a shaking voice. He held the roses in his hands as if they were to protect him from the stranger.
The masked man sneered, his eyes fixating on the roses. "Roses? Such a lovely gift. Who is the lovely Mademoiselle that is to receive such a beautiful present?" He touched the velvet petals with a white gloved hand. "The young woman must mean much if you're going to her at such an hour."
He nodded. "She is." A soft smile crossed his face as he looked at the roses. "She is a beautiful woman and I adore her more than life itself. I only hope she feels the same way, and I can gather my courage to approach her in person."
"You've never spoken with the girl?" the masked man asked, raising an eyebrow. He laughed softly, causing the man to shudder. The cloaked man suddenly bent down and picked up the kitten, delicately. He stroked the cat's fur, causing the Siamese to purr. "A strange romance if I say so. Who, may I ask, is she?"
"Her name is Christine Daae." he replied with a bright smile, the sense of fear suddenly disappearing as he spoke of the girl. "She is a chorus girl from the Paris Opera House. She is a beauty." He adjusted the flowers. "Christine may not be of great importance in the Opera populace, but she means a great deal to me. I must say, I am quite infatuated with her. It may just be a school boy's crush, but it seems like so much more."
The masked man suddenly took hold of the suitor's neck. The kitten jumped from her master's arms, slowly circling around his feet. A soft growl seemed to grow from the masked man's throat as grip tightened around the man's neck. His brown eyes bore into the young suitor's soul, flashing with anger.
"I suggest that you stay away from the Opera House. No one within those walls should be bothered by such a petty thing." he said in great disgust. The masked man tightened his grip on the young suitor's neck even more. The man clawed at the gloved hands, letting the bouquet fall to the cold ground. "I do not wish to harm you, but I will if I must. Such an insolent creature shouldn't bother the people of the opera. They have work they must do and an opera to perform. That opera is more important than your attempt of a courtship."
"Please," the man gasped, his eyes wide with fear. "let me go. I will abide by your wishes if you let me live. I'll never return the opera, I swear."
Without a word the masked man let go of the suitor. The young man fell to his knees gasping for air. His hat fell from his head, tumbling to the masked man's feet. He kicked it away with a soft laugh. He bent down and picked up the fallen roses, his eyes coming into contact with the suitor's.
"I bid you good night, Monsieur. Remember my words; I am not afraid to harm you." the masked man said, adjusting the roses, pulling out the ruined stems. He looked down at the Siamese kitten, which meowed playfully. "Come, Ayesha. It is time we got home."
The masked man turned on his heel and began walking down the street. The cat trotted beside him, her head in the air with pride. The man hummed a song that lingered in the air as a fog rolled in, seeming to mask him from view.
The young suitor was left alone, struggling to breathe and wondering what had happened. He stood quickly, not bothering to grab his hat. Brushing the dirt from his clothes, he looked down the street, his eyes struck with fear. The man and his cat were nowhere to be seen. Without another glance he turned and ran; fear was dancing in his heart, and that masked face lingered in his memory.
A young man trotted down the street, a bouquet of fresh red roses in his gloved hands. His black cape floated behind him, revealing the nicely pressed suit he wore. A top hat rested on his head, hiding his strawberry blonde hair.
The wind rustled by, tossing the man's hat from his head. He turned and cursed under his breath. Without another thought he ran after it. His footsteps echoed off the cobblestone street, his free hand reaching for the tumbling hat wildly.
Finally the top hat came to a stop, tumbling to the ground. The man smiled and scooped the hat up, his breathing slowing from his run. He examined his hat, brushing off a few grains of dirt with a slight frown. With a sigh he placed it on his head. Adjusting the object, the man turned to begin his journey down the street.
Suddenly a soft meow slithered from the darkness. The man came to a stop, wondering if it was just his imagination. He looked around his feet, only to find a Siamese kitten sitting beside him and at the entrance of an alley. The young cat looked up at him with crystal blue eyes, unblinking and a soft purr escaping its small frame. Its charcoal colored tail flopped around.
"Why, hello there!" the man said with a smile. He knelt down and held out his gloved hand. The kitten sniffed it and looked him in the eye. "I've never seen a feline like you around here. You must belong to someone of high class!"
A soft meow came from the cat, like some type of reply. Those blue eyes blinked and twinkled in the soft light around them
The man chuckled. "Well, I have no time to chat to such a petty thing." He patted the Siamese on the head, which was greeted by a soft meow. "Now, off with you. It would be a terrible thing to find such a creature dead in the street."
"In deed it would."
The voice, which spoke, seemed to flow from the darkness behind the cat. It held a power with in itself, but came out as soft and coy. A muted laugh followed as the man's eyes widened with fear of who ever spoke to him.
The man stood, his eyes fixated on the darkness of the alley. His dark blue eyes strained to find the source of the voice, but could not find a single person. His heart beat heavily in his chest, his eyes growing wider with fear as the laughter continued. The flowers in his hand quivered as he began to shake with fear.
Without a word the man turned to leave but came face to face with a tall man. A soft, rose-colored porcelain mask covered half of the man's face, leaving a beautifully shaped opening for his brown eyes. The man was tall and wore an elegant suit and cloak. The bare skin of his face was pale, and his black hair brushed back, whisking around his ears.
"Good evening, sir." he said with a shaking voice. He held the roses in his hands as if they were to protect him from the stranger.
The masked man sneered, his eyes fixating on the roses. "Roses? Such a lovely gift. Who is the lovely Mademoiselle that is to receive such a beautiful present?" He touched the velvet petals with a white gloved hand. "The young woman must mean much if you're going to her at such an hour."
He nodded. "She is." A soft smile crossed his face as he looked at the roses. "She is a beautiful woman and I adore her more than life itself. I only hope she feels the same way, and I can gather my courage to approach her in person."
"You've never spoken with the girl?" the masked man asked, raising an eyebrow. He laughed softly, causing the man to shudder. The cloaked man suddenly bent down and picked up the kitten, delicately. He stroked the cat's fur, causing the Siamese to purr. "A strange romance if I say so. Who, may I ask, is she?"
"Her name is Christine Daae." he replied with a bright smile, the sense of fear suddenly disappearing as he spoke of the girl. "She is a chorus girl from the Paris Opera House. She is a beauty." He adjusted the flowers. "Christine may not be of great importance in the Opera populace, but she means a great deal to me. I must say, I am quite infatuated with her. It may just be a school boy's crush, but it seems like so much more."
The masked man suddenly took hold of the suitor's neck. The kitten jumped from her master's arms, slowly circling around his feet. A soft growl seemed to grow from the masked man's throat as grip tightened around the man's neck. His brown eyes bore into the young suitor's soul, flashing with anger.
"I suggest that you stay away from the Opera House. No one within those walls should be bothered by such a petty thing." he said in great disgust. The masked man tightened his grip on the young suitor's neck even more. The man clawed at the gloved hands, letting the bouquet fall to the cold ground. "I do not wish to harm you, but I will if I must. Such an insolent creature shouldn't bother the people of the opera. They have work they must do and an opera to perform. That opera is more important than your attempt of a courtship."
"Please," the man gasped, his eyes wide with fear. "let me go. I will abide by your wishes if you let me live. I'll never return the opera, I swear."
Without a word the masked man let go of the suitor. The young man fell to his knees gasping for air. His hat fell from his head, tumbling to the masked man's feet. He kicked it away with a soft laugh. He bent down and picked up the fallen roses, his eyes coming into contact with the suitor's.
"I bid you good night, Monsieur. Remember my words; I am not afraid to harm you." the masked man said, adjusting the roses, pulling out the ruined stems. He looked down at the Siamese kitten, which meowed playfully. "Come, Ayesha. It is time we got home."
The masked man turned on his heel and began walking down the street. The cat trotted beside him, her head in the air with pride. The man hummed a song that lingered in the air as a fog rolled in, seeming to mask him from view.
The young suitor was left alone, struggling to breathe and wondering what had happened. He stood quickly, not bothering to grab his hat. Brushing the dirt from his clothes, he looked down the street, his eyes struck with fear. The man and his cat were nowhere to be seen. Without another glance he turned and ran; fear was dancing in his heart, and that masked face lingered in his memory.