Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Phantom of the Opera. There are days I wish I did. Angelina and some of the other characters that are in here I own. The Phantom in this story is based after the one in the movie. The portrayal in that movie was unbelievable. I hope you all enjoy it and I would love to have reviews and comments. Enjoy!

A/N: This is the true beginning of the story. I know it has been a little slow but I promise, after this chapter, it will pick up. Don't be afraid to review and comment. I love to hear it all. Once again, I would like to thank the Aria Database for the Carmen lyrics.

Chapter 4 – The Tale of the Opera Ghost

The next few days of rehearsals went on without any problems. Meg had not said a word to Angelina about what she heard just days prior. It seemed to have just been erased from memory.

However, the memory lingered in Angelina's mind. She thought about it, throughout the day and dreamt about it at night. The day's events did not escape her either. That voice. Where did it come from? How did he know that I could sing? She had heard the voice before: in her dreams.

She thought it all had been a figment of her imagination. Her father used to laugh it off when she was a child. He had assured her that it was only her imagination – an imaginary friend. Nothing more, nothing less. It could be my imagination now. Maybe I just dreamt the voice. There was no one there but me.

But the voice had made her heart race and her breathing increase. She had never felt such power behind just one word. She felt she had no choice but to sing. And sing she did. From an opera from which she only knew the music and not the words. But the words had somehow found their way from her soul through her mouth. It wasn't until she finished the verse did she feel free. She was free from the pain of holding back during her childhood. Her soul sang as she did. She had never felt like that before.

There was no time to think of what was or what could be. Angelina needed to focus on her dancing. The break, in which to wait for Brigitte, let her mind wander and to listen to the dancers around her.

"He's real you know."

"He is not. There is no such thing as a Phantom of the Opera."

"An Opera Ghost. He haunts these very walls."

"He only existed in the minds of the insane. And besides, even if he did exist, he's long gone now. The Opera Populaire burned. There is nothing left of it - including an Opera Ghost."

Angelina listened but made sure no one in the small group knew she was. She had heard of the tale of the "opera ghost". It was a tale told to her as a child, to scare her from even thinking about Paris. Alexander did all he could to make sure she was frightened every night before she would go to bed. It did the trick. The deformed man that roamed the halls of every opera house in Paris scared her until she cried herself to sleep.

"The Opera Ghost exists! I've seen him!"

"You have not."

"He wears a black cloak and a white mask covers half of his face."

"Everyone knows that. That doesn't prove anything."

"Enough, ladies."

Angelina looked up and saw Madam Giry standing there, her look serious. Each of the girls stood, one-by-one.

"There is no more talk of an "opera ghost". I want to hear no more talk of it."

"But, Madam Giry…"

"There is no more talk. Am I understood?"

They all answered "yes" in unison. Meg noticed Angelina listening and slowly approached. Angelina's eyes averted Meg's, trying not to show she was listening in.

"How much did you hear?"

"All of it, Madam."

"You cannot let these girls scare you. Tales of the "opera ghost" have been around for years. He does not exist."

"I understand, Madam."

"Now our rehearsal…"

"Will wait."

Both Meg and Angelina turned to see Brigitte standing there, in her full costume. Her entourage was not far behind. The path was cleared as she made her way to the front of the stage.

"I will not have some little twit take up my rehearsal time."

Before Angelina could step forward, Meg grabbed a hold of her arm and held her in place.

"Let her go, Anna. She is not worth it."

"Maestro, my music." Each one of the dancers stepped off to the side as Brigitte made herself at home in center stage.

An aria from Carmen, 'Habanera', began. The orchestra grew in intensity as Brigitte began her aria…

"When will I love you? Good lord, I don't know. Maybe never, maybe tomorrow. But not today, that's certain."

Even though no one wanted to, all eyes were focused on Brigitte. Her voice carried across the barren opera house and echoed through every wall.

But her voice did not stop Angelina hear something pop in the rafters above. Angelina looked up and saw something falling from the ceiling. And although she knew she didn't like Brigitte, Angelina pushed Brigitte out of the way and was hit in the head by a large object.

"Angelina!"

Meg quickly rushed to Angelina side as Brigitte's entire entourage flew to Brigitte's side. Looking above her, Meg could see a figure running through the rafters and away from the scene. She looked down at Angelina. Her head was bleeding and her eyes closed. Several other dancers quickly came to aid Meg as Meg slowly stood up. Brigitte brushed herself off and looked at Meg. Several of the dancers picked up Angelina as Brigitte walked over to Meg.

"She ripped my dress."

Meg didn't mean for her mouth to drop open, but it did. She stood there in utter disbelief.

"Your dress ripped?"

"Right down the back. I expect the seamstress will have quite a time repairing it. I will make sure it's docked out of Angelina's pay."

"She just saved your life!"

"She should learn to leave be. I would not have been harmed. Now there is more damage then there should be. Tell your precious little one to keep her nose where it belongs."

And with that, she walked off, her entourage following. Before she could manage to put two thoughts together, a young man walked up to her.

"Madam, she has not woken up. We have called for the doctor."

"Has the bleeding stopped?"

"No. I have a few dancers with her."

"Keep them there until I can get to her room."

The young man bows and then leaves her. As if by magic, an envelop falls from above. She gasps at the sight of the crest on the back of it.

The red skull.

She slowly bends down and picks it up. She eyes it and looks above to see if there is anyone there. No one. Breaking the seal, Meg's heart begins to race. She pulls out a small piece of paper and recognizes the handwriting right away.

Madam Giry –

To think, that is what I used to call your mother. You are to send the doctor away. Leave no one in Angelina's room. I will tend to her. No fears, Madam, she is in capable hands. I will not be there until sundown, until then you may tend to her – no one else.

O.G.

Meg slowly returned the letter to its home. Chills ran down her spine to accompany her labored breathing. It cannot be. He cannot be here. He swore to me. With no time to spare, Meg hurried to Angelina's room. Maybe she will wake before he comes.