Disclaimer: I do not own Phantom of the Opera, only my ideas and my characters. Suck it up and deal with it.
P.S. Hope you like! Enjoy!
--Syio
Her dark eyes observed, taking in her surroundings. She walked in a lone corridor, her long hair flowing behind her in tendrils. She stopped, and took her bearings. "Damn." She muttered quietly. She glanced down the corridor. Nothing. "Where is that old bastard…?" She sighed, her voice impatient.
"Looking for someone?" In a rush of movement and a sweep of a long cloak, a figure dropped from the rafters.
The girl started.
"Erik!" She said in a barley audible voice.
"No, it's Father Christmas." said the man in a overly sarcastic voice.
"Shut up." Said the girl in a sharp whisper.
"Why? You can't order me around." Erik motioned to an inside pocket of his ebony cloak, showing a rope.
She identified it immediately as the Punjab lasso. She made a strangled sound, searching for words.
"Cat got your tongue?" Erik asked cynically.
The girl glanced around, and murmured, "Monsieur, do you really think that little of me? You taught me better than that."
Erik let out a short cold laugh that sent shivers through the girl. "What do you want?" Erik asked din a sharp voice.
The girl appraised him with unreadable eyes. He was wearing an ivory mask, and a long black cloak. His clothes were those of a rich man, black with a white undershirt. His skin was pale, and wane. A smiled flickered over her face.
"I was looking for you. My mother is sick."
"Mother?" Erik asked sarcastically, though his eyes betrayed a hint of worry.
"Are you going to help or not? You are the only person I know of that has a slight chance of helping." The girl said her voice impatient.
"Nadir?" Erik's eyes were questioning.
"Sent me to get you."
"Ah."
Well, that's it for the Prolouge, sorry it's a bit short. Next chapter comming Monday or Tuseday...if you review.
Syio