A/N: Had a devil of a time pondering over whether or not to add more than one point of view in this story. For the most part, Maggie is the one narrorating the whole story, even when it's focused on Joseph or Erik. Let me know if you think I should start adding Erik's point of view or just leave Maggie to tell it. Hope you like!

Down, deep down, in the inky black depths of the opera house, a lone being shook to the core with rage as he entered his concealed home.

"Damn!" he cursed, throwing his cloak and hat on the ground, near the door. He had been so close, so damn close to being rid of that idiot stage manager forever, until that girl intervened.

His sister…

He was thoroughly enjoying watching his prey dangle helplessly at the bottom of the rope. Growing annoyed by his endless pathetic cries for help, he whipped out his trusty knife to finish the job. Joseph's eyes caught sight of it, and he struggled ferociously like a fish on a hook, to be free of the rope around his leg.

Suddenly, the whistling of another blade slicing the air as well as the rope caught both men off-guard. His head shot up to peer into the empty audience, and locate the perpetrator. It was dark, but his excellent night vision picked out a figure of medium height standing in the aisle near the middle rows of seats.

Realizing he'd lost his chance to dispose of Buquet, he disappeared before either person thought to seek him out. He didn't leave altogether, however. From his new hiding place, he observed the scene that unfolded below. He had to admit that he was taken aback when he saw the knife-thrower emerge from the shadows to reveal a girl; a girl in men's apparel, no less.

She was an inevitable curiosity. Who was she? He'd never seen her before, so she couldn't very well be employed in the Opera Garnier. His question was soon answered when he caught fragments of conversation between her and Joseph Buquet. The young woman mentioned something about "a brother looking after his sister." Buquet, in turn, confirmed any rising suspicions by replying, "How's my dear, sweet little sister?"

So…Buquet had a sister. How very interesting.

"I can't believe you don't have your own flat." I grumbled to my brother's back, as I followed him down the first cellar stairs. "Or at least a room in the dormitories."

"What're you talkin' about? My room is just good as any in those drafty old dorms. It's a real palace, it is! Besides, it tends to get a bit pricey for a flat in the city." He boasted.

After making our way down a second set of stairs, I couldn't refrain from asking…

"Are we residing in the earth's core?" To which Joseph laughed before replying that it might as well be.

"Don't worry. We won't be going beyond the second cellar."

"Exactly how many cellars are there?"

"Five, although not many venture any lower than the third or fourth. The fifth cellar we steer clear from altogether.

"Why is that?"

Joseph hesitated before a door on the right side of the stone wall, and then he turned to lean in closer to my face. After briefly glancing about, he returned his focus to me.

"Because of him."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "Him, who?"

My elder brother grinned deviously, fiddling with a jingly ring of keys before turning back to the door.

"The Ghost, of course."

"A ghost? Are you serious?"

I placed my hands on my hips, and cocked my eyebrow, disbelievingly. He ignored me as he pushed the door open, and ushered me inside.

"Welcome to Chateau de Buquet."

Dear God. This is where we were living?