He supposes it was his childhood that made him fall into the hitman business. He had been taught that he was a monster, that if a person even looked at him, they would be scarred for life. Because of that, he thinks, he may have thought it was a fitting job. To scare someone out of their wits with just his appearance, and then to end their life.
He didn't particularly like it. Of course, his real passion was music (the contrast always makes him give a sharp smirk), and he had once wanted to become a composer. In fact, he still composes in his spare time, but can never find anyone to actually come near him, nevertheless sing his music.
It was because of this, his racing mind tells him, that he finds himself so compelled to meet Christine Daaé.
After reading the general information about her, he had moved onto the rest of the file. Details of where she may be found, her past (she was originally from Sweden), her personality. It described her as a gentle, kind young woman. A smirk formed on his face. He didn't think those two traits could be found in any human being, never mind a famous opera singer.
Lastly, he came to an unsealed white envelope. He felt inside and retrieved several pieces of squared card. Turning them over, he gasped audibly in the silent room. They were pictures.
The photo looked like it had been taken professionally, as she was on stage and the shot gave a clear view of her entire body. The brown curls that framed her face and reached her waist looked soft, and they were accentuated by the green and red dress she was wearing. Her face was dainty, her mouth stuck in an 'o' shape, obviously in the middle of a presumably impressive note. Her eyes were large and brown, and the incomparable youth and wonder she possessed in them was unmistakable.
The other pictures were similar. Her in different costumes, always on stage. He found himself grinning, a phenomenon that hadn't occurred in a very long time and shocked him so much he had to force a grimace onto his face.
"Oh, god," he whispered as he leant back in his chair, his head lolling back as he tried to make sense of the situation he was faced with.
He was a natural at this- murdering people for money, he found it easy and his quick mind usually came up with flawless plans and tactics that would make himself or his employer look guiltless. But this woman, this Christine Daaé, something about her made him want to let her live. He had never had second thoughts about killing people before, and he frowned when he realised that it must be because she was a female. He felt pity for her, obviously. She didn't deserve to die, not just because her soon to be brother-in-law disapproved of her engagement.
But he still had to do it. He couldn't disobey the viscount. He knew how ruthless he was. In fact, he himself could find himself murdered if he didn't go through with it. He sighed. It wasn't fair. Unfortunately, he couldn't pinpoint what it was that was unfair about the situation. After all, he had done this many times before.
Eventually, he settled to go and see her perform first. See if there was anything he could hate about her, something that would justify him killing her. A weak note, a quiver in her voice, anything.
Yet, just from the pictures, he knew that he would find nothing.
"Oh, sorry, sir."
He grumbled. That was the third time someone had bumped into the back of his head as they walked behind his seat. Every time, he turned to them, gave them a vicious sneer, a full view of his mask, and they scampered away with a look of horror on their faces. He chuckled.
He was sat in the theatre, a full central view of the stage. He had booked out the two seats either side of him too, just to ensure he was as alone as possible as he surveyed the girl.
He was expecting her to be good. Looking through the programme, he understood that she was the prima donna of the show. Impressive.
He looked around, seeing that the theatre was probably sold out, or close enough to it. He lifted his eyebrows- how had he not heard of this, especially seeing how popular it seemed?
The lights turned down and everyone went quiet. Suddenly, the curtain opened, a single spotlight on the stage, and she was there.