Phantom of the Opera

Darkness envelops you. You stretch out your hands, feeling the cold air as you grope your way toward the exit. Your pulse is pounding. "Is anyone there? What's going on?" your own voice startles you out of the silence. Your fingers brush the doorknob and you carefully open the door, but a creak breaks the silence. A soft breeze caresses your face. At that moment, you hear footsteps in the distance. The faint glow of a lantern illuminates the far end of the hallway. "Who's there?" you ask, clenching your fists to calm the slight trembling in your hands. "___..... is that you? What are you doing here at this hour?" You relax as you hear that familiar voice. It's one of the opera's employees, specifically the watchman. "I was practicing in my dressing room. I didn't realize how late it was. I heard someone scream, do you know what happened?" The employee doesn't answer your question. "Don't move from here, I'll go inspect the electrical board." The sound of his footsteps and voice fade away.You stand in the darkness waiting alone. After a while the building is lit up again. "That's it. Go back home,___. It's not safe to be here at this hour." "What you're saying doesn't comfort me. What happened?" "It's better not to ask. Come on, I'll take you to the entrance. Tomorrow you'll know everything." You don't insist any more, you know that no matter how much you ask him, he won't tell you. You decide it's better to go home and wait for tomorrow. --------------------------------------- When you arrive at the opera house the next day, you see that the police have cordoned it off. No one is allowed inside, but you manage to hear some rumors that someone had hanged himself inside.... Then, the noises you heard.... You wait the whole day impatiently waiting for more information. In your dreams you only hear women's screams. A few days later, the opera resumes its activities. -------------------------------------------- Meg finds you in your dressing room. "___, you don't look so good. I heard you were inside the opera that night." "It was terrible. The next day I couldn't calm down—when I found out what happened, I thought the police would come looking for me at my apartment, but they didn't." "I guess it's because they want to get this case over with as soon as possible, but so far they haven't been able to find any definite clues." "What do you mean? Why did you say it like that? Meg, please. Tell me, what's going on?" Maybe it's the look on your face, but after hesitating, Meg places her hands on your shoulders and speaks. "___, the person they found dead was Joseph Buquet, the stagehand. The janitor discovered him in the storage room." "Now that you mention it... the scream I heard was definitely a woman's. It must have been hers..." With a panicked voice and a pale face, Meg tells you everything she heard about the incident. "The janitor said there was a power outage while she was cleaning. When she lit a lantern and turned around... Right in front of her was a pair of feet suspended in mid-air!" "My God!" You're horrified just to think of anyone having to see such an image. "The watchman rushed over. That’s when they noticed... a red rose lying beneath the corpse." A red rose? You don't understand what relevance it could have to what happened. "When he was finally able to calm the janitor, he went upstairs to inspect the electrical panel. That's when she ran into you." "No wonder he was so shaken! But if Joseph hanged himself, why did he say the opera wasn’t safe?" "Because of the rose, of course! The moment they saw it, they knew, it was the Phantom’s work!" "Phantom...?" You don't understand why Meg is talking about a ghost, it makes no sense. Ghosts don’t exist... right? "You’re new, so you wouldn’t know. But an ancient, terrifying phantom haunts this opera house... He appears and vanishes without a trace. He’s attacked many people, and always leaves a red rose behind." "But... I've never heard of a ghost at the Paris Opera." "It's a secret of the opera. So many terrible things have happened, but the police don't know what to do and the spiritualists can't help either. If word got out, it would be the end of the opera..." You came to the opera with so many desires and hopes, but you never imagined that it hid such a terrifying secret. You can't accept it, it's not possible. "___, you don't believe me? I’m telling you the truth!" "But, Meg, don't you think it's crazy to think it's a ghost just because of a red rose? Maybe they're just trying to find a simple explanation for a strange phenomenon." You reply, totally reluctant to believe it's possible that it's a ghost. "I know it’s hard to accept. I was like you at first... but you’ll understand soon." "So the police will just stand by and do nothing?" "Maybe they'll declare it an accident or a suicide, as usual. A new director is about to take over, so the current director is anxious for the dust to settle so he can retire in peace. Whatever happened, it's over now." You don’t agree with their methods, but there’s nothing you can do. The incident hangs over you like a black cloud. Sometimes, you still have nightmares about it. ------------------------------------ "___, I knew only you would practice in secret at this hour! Come with me, quickly. The banquet is about to start and you haven't even changed your clothes. The new director will be taking over, so we can't be late." You open your eyes wide as you hear Meg's words. "I didn't realize the time!" you quickly start to gather your things. "Thanks, I'll be right there!" Meg waits for you, and together you rush to the banquet hall, arriving just as the director is about to give his opening remarks. "Dear friends, thank you for this welcome banquet. It is a great honor for me to work for a first-class opera like this one.... I hope we will all work together to bring the opera to glory!" The hall fills with applause, but you look around and realize that everyone is watching him with an indulgent look. Not one of them seems to have been moved by the new director's emotional words. Perhaps, like you, they are all still thinking about Joseph's death. "Honestly, I'm not interested in *glory*. I just pray that this new director doesn't fall into the hands of the ghost." You overhear employees whispering. "Just by looking at him, you can tell he is already full of himself." Hearing the murmurs of people behind his back, you can't help but worry about the future of the opera. "Come on, ___, it's time to relax, stop frowning." "You’re right. I just saw you eyeing the dessert table." "Don’t tease me, or I won’t bring you anything!" Between the music and the drinks, everyone gradually leaves their worries behind and toasts effusively until midnight arrives. Then, the new director begins to speak, and by the tone of his voice anyone can tell he's a little drunk. "I'll tell you something, the previous director was just as cowardly as a mouse. I even think he was missing a screw! One day, suddenly, he told me that in the opera there was...a ghost!" A heavy silence falls over the room. Dancers freeze mid-step. Champagne glasses are set down. "It's funny, don't you think?" The director sets down the glass he’s been clutching all night and stands, swaying slightly. "The previous director even gave me the rules of the opera. The rules aren't bad at all, only...who knew there would be a big paragraph about the ghost at the end?" The air in the room seems to freeze. You can see out of the corner of your eye that some guests, uncomfortable, sit up in their seats. A rulebook about the ghost? Does everyone really believe there is a ghost? You share some of the skepticism the new director feels on the subject. "Haha, paying twenty thousand francs a month to the ghost? That's ridiculous." You listen as the director continues to ramble on about the rules having to do with the ghost, until you hear one of the employees interject into his monologue. "It’s true! The Phantom exists, many people have seen it..." "Don't ever say such nonsense again!" The director responds angrily. "There can't be any ghosts here! Since I arrived I haven't seen a single one. If he’s real, let him show himself now! I don't know what the previous director had in his head, but from now on there are new regulations. As of today..." Suddenly, the chandelier in the banquet hall falls shatteringly. Shards of glass fly in all directions. Each shard flashes as if it were a spark. Within seconds, darkness fills the room. The only thing that illuminates it is the faint glow of the candles on the wall. The director is sitting at the table, totally paralyzed as if he were a stone. Everyone panics and there are screams all over the room. "___, over here." Meg’s voice reaches you. "Are you okay?... Your finger... Did glass cut you?" You look down to see the tip of your finger. It's just a scratch, but you feel the fresh blood gushing out like a bad omen. "I’ll get something to bandage it." "Meg—!" You wanted to tell her to be careful, but she rushes off in a hurry before you can say anything. At that instant, the the grand banquet doors slowly begin to open. Behind them, the figure of a man is silhouetted against the light. He is tall and wears a cloak as black as night. The candlelight flickers slightly in the darkness. You cannot see his face clearly, only how the flames stretch his shadow unnaturally long. His shadow does not tremble in the slightest before the flickering of the flames. You follow it with your eyes, until you spot the red rose pinned to his chest. "A red rose! What a coincidence..." You mutter to yourself. Then, you feel a great pressure, as if his gaze is directed at you. Could it be true that he is looking at you? When your eyes adjust to the darkness, you finally see him clearly, you notice that he has a pale complexion and wears a white mask covering his face. He emanates a tenebrous aura from head to toe. You try to shout to the people around you, but for some reason not a sound comes out of your mouth. Are you the only one seeing him? Why doesn't anyone else react? Who is he? All these questions are running through your mind and you don't have the answer to any of them.