Phantom of the Opera 1. Prologue

A/N: My apologies… I haven't had all the time I needed to really sit down and write. Well, yet again, I rewrite the prologue… I know I know… Where's the rest of the story… I rushed it so I decided to really sit down and take the time to develop the plot… look over it better and really get into the heads of the characters. With some great help from Marie Erickson… I think I can have something going here. Enjoy!

Prologue:

Madame Giry impatiently called for the dancers. The dressing rooms were busy and people rushed to do makeup, hair, and costumes. Some dancers were tightening their shoes and touching up some makeup, some of the chorus members were warming up their voices with scales. As for Elizabeth she was in a panic, quickly adding some darker eye shadow to her eyes and brushing her cheeks with a ruby red powder. Her nightly dark hair was pulled back and a blood red rose settled in the side of the bundle of hair. She stood up in front of her mirror for a final check and hardly recognized herself. Her proactive black dress was low cut. It held tight around her body and accented the dancer's curves. Except where it stopped at the hips and flowed, the slit of the dress starting at her hips and reaching to the bottom.

"Elizabeth!" Madame Giry sharply called. She quickly came out of her trance by the strict woman's voice. She rushed out of the room at the end of the rest of the dancers. She stood in the wing waiting for her cue, and she got a glance across the stage of the young Prima Donna Christine. She caught her eye and smiled… feeling as though she had to reassure her of something… for Christine seemed afraid. Afraid? Why would this suddenly successful young singer fear anything? Then Elizabeth considered the stories she over hears the brats chattering about, the strange stories of the Opera Ghost, who haunted the Opera Populaire. She had no reason to believe them… but with the look in Christine's eyes tonight… Elizabeth could believe that there was something, and she felt pity for her.

Suddenly Elizabeth felt a shove from behind… she had missed her cue and was being reminded by her partner, Jacque. Elizabeth entered the stage and followed her routine as practiced but with passion, for she loved to dance. But when dancing on stage, it was more than just passion and the routine… is was your heart and soul.

Then, she heard a voice that was soft and intriguing. She wanted to stop dancing just to listen to the melodic voice of the masked man. She looked up and saw the figure dressed in black and walking towards Christine, singing his beautiful song that could not be matched by even the perfect tuned pitches of the instruments in the orchestra. She saw as the masked man sang, not for the audience, but for Christine, who his eyes never left. Under the bridge where the man and Christine sang together and longed for each other the dancers mimicked the movements of the couple. Elizabeth noticed how the man twirled Christine with such care, as to not to break his precious glass menagerie, as her partner spun herself into his chest with such haste and roughness. The man's hands slowly ran up Christine's body as Elizabeth's partner maliciously rubbed his hands up hers. Elizabeth longed to be her friend in the arms of the masked man who handled her ever so gently.

Elizabeth could hear the whispers offstage, the whispers of the Opera Ghost. As the music reached it's end the Opera Ghost extended it. Dancers looked up, as did people offstage as saw Christine's hand slowly and cautiously move her hand towards the mask of the Opera Ghost.

It all happened to quickly. The dancers below the bridge could not fully see the unmasked face of the Opera Ghost, but the screams and gasps from the audience was enough to send shivers down their spines. The pain and anger betrayed Phantom slashed a rope and grabbed the instilled Christine around the waist. They fell through the bridge into a black hole. No one really paid much attention to their disappearance as the grand chandelier began to tear it's way down towards the crowd. People rushed around, chaos erupted into the once elegant and prim opera house. The chandelier reached the stage with a horrid crash. The nearest chairs began to burn in a flash spreading the fire further into the audience.

Screams echoed in Elizabeth's ear as she rushed away from the nearing flames. The heat of the embers and heavy smoke were engulfing the opera house. Elizabeth rushed away from the stage, noticing Madame Giry pull away the Viscomte, Raoul de Changy, Christine's fiancé. Elizabeth thought at first of the safest way to get out of the opera house, but then the image of Christine and her fear entranced eyes flashed in her head. Elizabeth had to help, in any way should could, the only kind person to her when she first arrived at the Opera Populaire. Elizabeth noticed Meg Giry at the head of a mob, and pursued them knowing they must know a way to reach Christine.

Elizabeth followed them deep into the cellars of the opera house. They reached a lake that was knee deep for the men, and they began to cross it. Elizabeth regretted the fact that she still wore the proactive dress that brought no warmth to her in the cold and damp cellars. They reached a shore, and found a well-furnished lair, which could only be home of the Phantom himself. The thing was, that was all they found, and empty lair with no signs of Christine, the Viscomte, or even the Phantom. The mob searched the lair finding nothing useful to the whereabouts of the missing people. Elizabeth glanced over to Meg who stood alone holding something white in her hand. Elizabeth approached her, "Anything?" Meg glanced over her shoulder, her eyes showing she was trying to hold back tears. "No, nothing… nothing" Her voice fell into a whisper and whimper. Elizabeth tried to comfort her, but Meg took a deep breath of renewed anger and threw the white mask in her hand. "Let's leave." And she turned away, brushing away a fallen tear with her sleeve. Elizabeth watched the mob come together and begin to leave. She began to follow, but the white mask caught the corner of her eye.

She bent down to pick it up, and noticed the shattered glass; she furrowed her eyes and followed the trail of the broken class. With the white mask still in her hand, she stepped around the glass and followed it with her eyes. It led to a deep red curtain. She walked over to where the glass led her, hearing the crunch of glass echo in the now empty lair. She looked back only to find that everyone had left, and she was alone. She pulled the curtain back with her hand, revealing a dark tunnel. _This must be where they went through. _Determined, Elizabeth gathered up the fragile courage she had and stepped over the frame, with fear in her heart.


	2. Chapter 1: No way out

I have rewritten this chapter as well, and I plan to do so with the rest of the chapters up to chapter 3. I know it has been forever, but with help from my beta Marie Erikson, I finally have a clearer view of where I want my story to go. The plot has a changed a bit, but it's mostly the same. I can't tell you first of all the readers how much I appreciate you just reading my story, and reviews are always welcome. You are my critics, and I improve with your helpful thoughts. Without further ado…

Chapter 1:

Even with her strong dancer's legs, Elizabeth had trouble managing her way down the tunnel. It was dark, darker than the lair, and she couldn't see anything in front of her. Adrenaline from fear pumped throughout her body, her heart thumped so loudly she thought she could hear it echo off the tunnel walls. Suddenly she heard something scurry across the tunnel path in front of her, and a shiver went up her spine. She cringed at the thought of what it was. She quickened her pace, wanting more to be out of the tunnel. When she heard it, something, so familiar. It was a voice. The one she heard on the bridge during Don Juan Triumphant, right before the disaster. But this time it was not singing an entrancing tune, it seemed to be yelling in rage.

Her fear became more powering over her. Her breath became heavier as she saw a dim light at what was hopefully was end of the tunnel. She quieted her steps nearing the end, and came to an opening. Her once perfect-in-place hair was loose and around her shoulders, merely being held up with some pins. Her arms and legs were no longer the clean and pale complexion they once were after going through a lake a dark tunnel. She had a few cuts on her ankles and her legs were smudged in dirt, as well as her arms. Her hard worked on dress was ripped in the back and there was no long one slit in the skirt but two. The once flowing fabric was now damp from the journey through the lake.

She notice the man sitting in the corner, he was singing softly to himself, a tune similar to the on sung at the masquerade ball. As she approached him she became stiff as he whipped around after her foot hit a small rock. His glare stabbed her like a hundred daggers to the heart. "What are you doing?" He screamed, quickly getting to his feet and slapping his hand over the right side of his face. "Come to stare at the monster, have you!" he began to stride towards her, his face twisted with anger and yet washed over with pain and betrayal. "I, uh, I thought, I mean, you mask monsieur." She stuttered, and slowly raised her hand with the still remaining mask as her hand and whole body began to shake. "His eyes widened and he snatched it out of her hand, "LEAVE!" She began to back away from him towards the tunnel, which she had just come from. She was just about to turn and run, when he grabbed her arm, "Wait, you'll only tell them I'm still alive and where to find me." He spoke, not as to speak to her, but as to inform himself. "N-no, I never…" Elizabeth tried to speak, "I did not instruct you to speak, silence!" He snapped back at her. He kept his grip around her small arm fierce, and he closed his eyes in deep thought. "Please, monsieur" she was able to whimper, "You are hurting me."

Out of frustration he threw her to the ground, "Really now? What gives you the right to trespass and disturb me? But who would be considerate of a murderer or monster!" he yelled as he march towards her, as she winced at his words, "Please, monsieur, I was only intent on coming in search for Christine…" She was cut short by his slap on her face, "Never! Never speak of her in my presence! You will stay here, where I can know you are unable to get out, I can not risk a foolish little girl like you speaking of me." Elizabeth was in shock. She had never been slapped across the face since she came to the Opera House. She left her home to escape from that. There was no way this man could treat her that way, but he was much stronger than her, and there was nothing she could do. All she could do was continue to lie there and hold her face, but she dare not to cry. She would not cry in front of this… this monster!


	3. Chapter 2: Reminicing in a Dream

A/N: A thank you first for gerfan who has been leaving reviews, also Laliel whose review was very inspiring. Thank you both and my other readers, I really hope you enjoy my story… Did anyone else despise Beyonce's performance of Learn to be Lonely? Just an opinion… On to the Chapter! And sorry many times for not updating sooner… major writer's block… though I had it all planned out then realized it was very much like many other "phan" fics…

Chapter 2

_"Miss deLorm" I blinkied out of my nervous trance and slowly walked on to the stage. "Please begin your piece" I nodded to the pianist and as the music began my nervousness receded. The music began to surround me and no one else was there, it was just the music and I. The music guided my graceful moves and my passion of dancing burst and I danced the way I have always wanted too. Thinking how proud my old teacher would have been. _

_When the music ended, I broke out of my trance and as I looked up I saw blanks faces on the Managers and Madame Giry. "Where did you learn to dance?" Madame Giry questioned. "I had a tutor once, since I was young I would see her for lessons, but she passes away." "Well we have certainly found out lead dancer!" One of the managers exclaimed, I blushed and replied, "Oh please, I am not sure I am ready for a big part like that…" "Don't speak nonsense, that was a beautiful performance." Madame Giry grinned and motioned me off stage as she called the next name. _

_"That was wonderful! You dance beautifully." A young girl about my age exclaimed, she had dark curly hair and her complexion was pale and flawless, I recognized her as the singer in Hannibal. Christine Daae I think was her name. "Thank you." I replied with a slight curtsy. I wasn't good at making friends fast "Christine" she said smiling, "Elizabeth" I returned. She was my first friend I made at the Opera House. Since I made lead dancer I stayed at the Opera House. Christine showed me my room that I would be staying in. I thanked her and that was the last I would see her before the performance of Don Juan Triumphant. She seemed worried and her voice seemed to quiver when she spoke. I heard the other dancers whispering about an Opera Ghost. I never really paid attention for I was too busy with dancing, and I wasn't going to waste time gossiping. I hadn't been at the Opera House for long but I knew that everything you heard wasn't always true. Then that fatal night came. When the Opera Ghost fulfilled everyone's talk. When he took her down, I could not let him get away with taking the first friend I made. So I followed. _

I woke with a sudden shill. I felt as though someone was watching me.


	4. Chapter 3: Getting Realistic

A/N: I know brief chapter last… sorries. And I know… sudden ending…. But I really tried to leave that chapter just as her dream and give a little history of her and the Opera house and the relations. I really am sorry if I am confusing anyone… or if my writing is just… ick, I just can't get on the computer and type sometimes and I run blanks. I know what I want to happen I just don't know how to lead up to what I want to happen… Anyways, here's your chapters, and feedback is always welcome… please keep it constructive… and don't hurt my feelings too much if you feel the need to…

Chapter 3

I looked around the dark room. There seemed to be no one there, but I swore I felt a presence and eyes watching me. I tried ignoring it and thought I'd look around the room. It was quite elegant, but dark and lonely. The bed itself was covered in dark red and black sheets and blankets. There was a dresser and a vanity. It was as if this room was pre-made for someone - a woman. I saw a wooden wardrobe in the corner next to a large mirror. I walked over and opened one the doors, the hinge squeaked a little and I glanced behind thinking that someone was around me making me feel like I had to be cautious. Inside the wardrobe were some of the most elegant dresses I have ever seen outside of the operas I've seen. They were mostly black, when I held up one up to my figure and stepped in front of the mirror a sudden hand snatched the dress away.

"Who do you think you are? Rummaging through things that do not belong to you!" The Opera Ghost screamed. I was still scared stiff from the shock and stood there blankly with a slight confused look on my face. "Are you hearing me clearly? Stay out of things that you should not be into unless I give any permission, which is highly doubtable!" He continued to scream, but all I could do was stare into his eyes. Those beautiful eyes that lured me in and captured me, yet filled with suffering and pain, I couldn't escape the stare. The Opera Ghost looked at me anger rising in his tone trying to avoid eye contact, "What are you staring at!" I finally replied, broken of my trance, "I-I'm sorry, I was just, I didn't think…" "That's right you did not think at all!" He interrupted. By now I was snapped back into reality and sudden anger and disappointment rose in me, and I couldn't control it. "What do you expect me to do then? It wasn't like I was harming anything! What am I suppose to do down here, in this dark and gloomy hell. I didn't mean to get stuck down here, if I really knew what kind of-of monster you were, I would have never came down here!" Sudden and violent anger burst through The Opera Ghost. His face turned red, his eyes - his alluring eyes, filled with anger, yet hurt. I really didn't mean anything by it; I just didn't know how to react to his sudden enragement. I never really thought about what I said before I spoke… foolish me.

The Opera Ghost with a wave of his black cloak disappeared. I was left there, in the room to sit and think back on what just happened. I heard the organ in the main room playing fierce music. The music even with all its hostility was beautiful in its own way surrounding you with its emotion and feeling. It must have been him, venting any anger. Fearing I would anger him more if I went out there, I stayed in the room. My stomach yearning for something to fill it, but all I could do was fill it with tears. For all I did was cry and think of what was to come. I either cried myself to sleep, or I was so hungry I passed out, because then all I remember was drifting out of consciousness.


End file.

Phantom of the Opera, Romance