The rain danced across the window of the bus, forming huge, multicolored droplets. Christy watched them swirl and leap, picturing what kind of stage work she would be doing in the next three months.

Her school choir teacher had noticed her great voice, and her drama instructor loved her stage appearance. The two of them had gotten together with Christy's uncle and talked over sending her to Beautiful Soul, one of the most famous programs known to everyone who was in the arts field. It was run at an old Opera House, filled with magic and secrets.

Christy sat next to a girl named Mary. She was fast asleep and peaceful, and the only way Christy could tell her name was by her bag, which said in big red letters "Mary, the beautiful."

After an hour or so, Mary awoke. She looked over at Christy and rubbed her eyes. "Oh, hello, Mademoiselle. I'm sorry I didn't get to talk to you. I must have fallen asleep as soon as I got on the bus."

"That's alright. My name is Christy. What's your name?" Christy already knew her name, but she asked anyway to start conversation.

"Mary. So, what brings you to the Opera?"

"Two of my school teachers think I should try this thing out. I'm a soprano, and an amateur actress. You?"

"I'm a dancer. I've been dancing since I was five. My grandmother runs the program."

"Wow. Maybe we'll get to work together."

"I hope so. I don't know anybody here." Mary looked around the bus.

"Me either."

"I'm sure we can sweet talk Mademoiselle Carnes into letting us share a room, though. I've heard she's incredibly easy on the beginning girls."

"That's good to hear."

For the rest of the ride, the girls talked. They had a lot in common, except for looks. Mary was a delicate young girl with long blonde hair and blue eyes, with slender white legs and beautiful frame. Christy was thin, with tan skin and curly brown hair. Her eyes were also deep brown, and her body formed as if for ballet, but she was a singer. To some men she was considered gorgeous, but to most, she was just a scrawny, shy girl.

When at last the bus pulled up to the Opera House, Christy couldn't believe it. The building was mighty and powerful, blazing with fine beauty. She did not know how she was going to fit in, in such a place.

Once their bags were unloaded, Christy and Mary walked along with the group into the towering Opera House. The inside was even more beautiful, glowing with old secrets and glory.

A small elderly lady awaited them in the middle of the gigantic room, which name was known to none of them. Christy labeled it "The Welcoming Room" in her mind. "Good day, everyone. My name is Lauren Carnes. I will be your instructor, guide, and friend for the next few months."

As Mademoiselle Carnes went on, Christy admired The Welcoming Room in its entire splendor. It was a magnificent room. She let her fantasies unwind in this room, imagining all the great works she would be carrying on.

Mademoiselle started taking names, asking general information, and then assigning rooms. "Jeffery? Is that what you would like to be called?"

"Jeff, if you don't mind," a voice replied.

"Jeff. Do you have any friends in this program?"

"No, Mademoiselle."

"How old are you, Jeff?"

"I'm seventeen."

"Where do you come from?"

"Not to far away, Mademoiselle."

"Room 101 for you, Jeff."

Mademoiselle Carnes went down the line until she got to Christy. She said her name.

"Yes, Mademoiselle Carnes?"

"How old are you?"

"Sixteen."

"Do you have any friends in this program?"

"Yes. Her name is Mary." Christy nodded her head toward Mary, who was standing beside her.

"Where are you from?"

"Just outside Paris, Mademoiselle."

"Room 206. Mary?" she looked at Christy's friend.

"Yes?"

"Would you like to be roomed with your friend?"

"Yes, please."

"Very well. I've forgotten, dear. How old are you?"

"Fifteen."

"Alright. You can have Room 206 with Miss Christy."

"Thank you."

As Mademoiselle Carnes went along, Mary let out a deep sigh. "Well, we got our room!"

"Yes, thank God."

The two girls hugged and let out a little squeal. Mademoiselle Carnes was done with her 3rd Degree.

"Now, Charles will lead you all to your rooms, and in the morning he will retrieve you all at 6 a.m. sharp. In two hours, he will come to fetch you all for dinner. Good day."

A short, fat man stepped into The Welcoming Room. "Ah, hello. My name is Charles. Come with me."

Two by two, three by three, four by four, Charles led the young talents to their rooms. When it was finally time for Christy and Mary to get their rooms, he almost skipped them. He passed over them with his eyes and started to lead the group next to them.

"Um, excuse me, Charles. What about us?"

"Oh, yes, I'm sorry." Charles smiled.

Christy rolled her eyes and followed this man. Their room was small and cozy, with two beds, a wide window-door that led out to a balcony, a small but not too small bathroom, and a crossway door that led into a very small room that might have served as a living room.

"It looks…charming," Mary said, looking around.

"Yes…" Christy loved it, even if it was small.

"I'll leave you ladies now then," Charles said, letting himself out.

"Thank God," Christy laughed, plopping down on a bed. "Mary, I'm so tired."

"Oh, so am I," Mary plopped down on the other bed. "But at least we made it. I'm just so nervous about where they are going to put me! If they want me to sing, I hope they don't want me as a soprano. I am not a soprano."

"Oh, let's hear it!" Christy said, sitting up.

"No, no please."

"Just sing. Like this!" Christy began to go up and down her scale.

"Do, Re, Me, Fa, So, La, Ti, Do! Re, Me, Fa, So, La, Ti, Do!"

Mary took a breath and began at her lowest note. "Do, Re, Me, Fa, So, La, Ti…!" She broke off with a squealing note.

Christy burst out laughing. "Okay, so maybe you're not a soprano."

"No, I'm not!" Mary started laughing.

Christy pulled out some nail polish from her bag. She had a silvery pink and clear topcoat in one hand, and in the other, a light blue tube. One of Christy's favorite things to do to unwind her nerves was paint her nails. She was almost a professional. "Here, use some of this. It'll help you settle down."

Mary reached for the light blue tube of paint as Christy began to sweep the pink brush across her beautiful, long nails. When her left hand was done, she let it dry, and then began to work on her right. With little difficulty, she was done. Most girls have trouble using their opposite hand, but not Christy. She had perfected this.

Christy painted her toenails and then went over everything with the clear topcoat, and then she was done. She sat in silence and watched Mary do her nails.

It was Mary who finally broke the silence. "Got a boyfriend?"

"No. My last boyfriend was in eighth grade. I haven't had a lover since." She blushed. "You?"

"Wow! Three years, Christy? And as for me, I broke up with my boyfriend two weeks ago. It just didn't work out."

The girls sat in silence. There seemed that there was nothing to say.

Of a sudden, the lights all blacked out. There was a chill through the whole Opera House. A loud boom escaped from the bowels of the Opera, spreading through the rooms like fire. It was the sound of drums, banging loudly and madly.

Christy looked at Mary. "Who is playing the drums? They are very good, but angry."

Mary looked at Christy fearfully. "Have you heard—the story of The Opera Specter?"