Chapter Three: Bloodhound on a Trail

The small suitcase still in my hand, I burst through the doors of the Opera Populaire. A giant grin was plastered on my face, I stomped my way toward the nearest person. This man looked like he would be able to help me. The way he positioned his body gave him the aura of a businessman. Still unknown to the human ways, I gave him a soft slap on the back in greeting. That had been how I had greeted my friends, anyway.

The man nearly lost his footing when I slapped him. He turned around, eyes wide. "Excuse me, mademoiselle, what was the meaning of that?" Coughing, he straightened his top hat and waited for my explanation.

"I'm sorry, monsieur, but I was just saying hello. Isn't that how you greet each other here?"

He shook his head. "No, that is not how we say…hello. Is there a reason why you are here, mademoiselle?" He spoke quickly, as if in a hurry.

"Actually, there is. I'm looking to obtain a permanent residence here, if possible. Can that be arranged?"

"Can you sing?" He raised one eyebrow curiously.

I hesitated before answering. "I've never been able to sing." Not all angels had melodious, perfect voices.

The man adjusted his hat again, frowning slightly. "Can you dance ballet?"

I began to feel embarrassed because of my lack of skills. "No..."

He briefly grimaced. "Can you clean, Mademoiselle?"

Jumping into a victory stance, I proudly nodded my head. "That I can do! You should see my cleaning skills, they are-" I was interrupted by a broom being tossed into my hands. A smiling maid stood next to me. Where in the world had she come from?

"Good, Mademoiselle. You now have a job here as a maid." With that he turned, leaving me in the care of the other woman. I stood there dumbfounded, wondering how I could have gone from angel in heaven to human maid.

The middle-aged woman motioned for me to follow her. "Don't you mind Monsieur Richard. He's secretly happy you're here, I'm sure. It's a good thing you've arrived. After the accident, we haven't been able to keep as many employees. We need all the help we can get."

"Accident?"

Sighing, her eyes became vacant as she remembered. "The chandelier toppled on the stage. Some people believed it was the doing of that Opera Ghost. Some workers left because they were afraid that they'd be the next victim of the Opera. Rumor says the ghost killed a few people." She must have noticed my nervous look. "Don't you worry none. I'm sure the Opera Ghost is just a myth. The name's Charlotte, by the way."

"Wow, that's interesting...and spooky. Nice to meet you, Charlotte. I'm Jesabelle." I stayed silent for some time as I pondered. This Opera Ghost sounded like the person I had to help. In heaven I had heard that the man with the 'death's head' had dropped a chandelier on an audience. It was the best and only lead I had, but I wasn't one hundred percent positive. Still, it seemed like the right way to go.

"Say, Charlotte, do you know any more about that Opera Ghost?" We began tidying up the inner auditorium, cleaning rubble from the chandelier incident off of the floor. I figured I could have an interesting conversation and get the information I needed.

"Well, I heard he's up in Box Five…that he stayed even after the chandelier fell. Not sure what else. There are people that know more about the ghost than I do." Charlotte carried on with her work.

I leaned against my broom and stopped to gaze at Box Five. Maybe it was just my eyes, but I could have sworn I saw something moving in the box. "Who else would know?"

Charlotte shrugged. "Lots of others. Just gotta ask around."

I took her advice literally. Head high, I walked off. "I'll be on the other side of the auditorium if you need me, Charlotte." Dragging the broom with me, I gradually swept my way across the room. A smile on my face, I casually started cleaning next to a fellow maid. "Nice weather, isn't it?"

The maid raised one hand, scratching the scalp that lie underneath her curly hair. "You sure about that? It's pouring out. I don't think I've seen you around before. Are you new?" She returned my smile with a tiny grin.

"Yeah, I'm new…just got a job, actually. I was wondering, do you know anything about the so-called Opera Ghost?" I tilted my head slightly.

"The Phantom supposedly tricks people, steals things from the corps de ballet. The little ballet rats blame him when they lose anything."

The first few weeks went by very quickly; I think I made quite the impression on the workers. Of course, I asked anyone and everyone about the Phantom. Once, I even dared to question Monsieur Richard, the man who had given me a job. He had just brushed it off and told me to get back to work.

Even though I talked to many people, I didn't get much information. I may have quickly gained a reputation as the girl who was obsessed with the opera ghost, but that didn't help if I couldn't find him. I was a woman on a mission, a bloodhound on a trail.

I regret being oblivious to the shadows, namely the one that began watching me.

Author's Note: Thank you, those who read and/or review. I love that people are reading this story. (:

Important: I do not own Phantom of the Opera or any of its characters. I only own the characters of Jesabelle and Charlotte.

Don't worry, Erik will be showing up soon. ;]

xoxo,

Jezebel Denver