Love of the Ghost

All Phantom of the Opera references belong to their rightful authors. I own nothing, this is merely a fantasy story. Please let me know what you think, especially as this is my first fan fict :) Oh, and please excuse spelling mistakes! But if you do find any, let me know and I'll edit it :) Thank you! - Glass Angel

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The warm sun shines through your hotel window and a soft morning breeze makes the curtains float elegantly in the air, almost as if they were dancing. You smile to yourself as you sit up and look at the gorgeous Paris hotel suite around you and dream of the day ahead. Already you have visited all the typical torist attractions Paris has to offer, the Eiffiel Tower being especially beautiful and even occassionally visiting Disney Land for a bit of childish fun. But today will be unlike any other, you can feel it in the air. Having saved the best till last, today is the day you visit the Paris Opera House, setting to the famous book by Gaston Leroux, The Phantom of the Opera.

You jump out of bed all excited, being an extremally obsessed fan and take a shower, completely skipping breakfast in your enthusiasm to get there early and throw on your Phantom Musical t-shirt before running out the door and requesting a taxi from the conseirge.

***

The roads and surroundings of Paris never cease to amaze you, so pretty and ornate even in the most run down areas of Paris, especially when compared to home. As the taxi turns the corner you gasp at the sheer beauty and size of the Paris Opera house and can barely contain yourself, letting out a squeal of delight which causes the taxi driver to give you a strange look before he pulls away to his next job.

Your eyes don't know where to look with all the beautiful pictures and carvings surrounding you but you soon see a sign with a list of times for the guided tours and quickly follow the arrows to the gathering point to find that you're just in time for the next tour.

You're with a large bunch of tourists, most with cameras and none seem to speak english so you find yourself dawdling behind a little, feeling slightly outcasted by these people, but you soon perk up again as the guide takes the group to the famous "Box Five".

You smile as the tour guide gives a brief talk about how Box Five became so famous and she gives you a knowing nod and a friendly smile seeing your T-shirt. You soon start to zone in and out on what the tour guide is actually saying, being far more interested in looking around and absorbing the scene when you hear a soft noise, a whisper floating on tind ind and you struggle at first to hear what it says. Your ears strain to hear and then you hear your name clearly being whispered around your head. A little shocked you look around you, wondering how anyone could possibly know your name, only to see no-one there. Perplexed you turn your attention back to the guide and notice that no one in the group seemed to have heard anything so you shake your head thinking it's just your over excited mind. "Wishful thinking" you laugh to yourself, but then the soothing yet eerie whispering returns, calling your name all around you, never seeming to come from the same direction. A chill runs up your spine and you're greatful that the group is moving on to the next point of attraction. As you continue to walk around the Paris Opera house, you can't help but feel like you are being watched and it feels as if your eyes are playing tricks on you as every now and again you swear you see shadows moving and the whip of a cloak moving in the air as someone runs.

You try to settle yourself but as you stand with the group listening to the tour guide ramble on about some painting, a bony cold hand reaches out from behind a deeply shadowed pillar and takes a firm hold of your wrist. You open your mouth to scrin sin surprise but no sound comes out. It's almost as if the icy cold hand has frozen you to the spot and you can't even turn your head to look behind the pillar. The same whispering fills your head "Do not be afraid, I have been watching you walking around my Opera House with my mask on your chest. You are fasinated with me it seems, just as I am you..." Your heart pounds hard in your chest as you listen to these words. "Come back tonight, meet me in box five and all your dreams shall come true.." The cold hand then releases your arm and you quickly turn to look into the shadows, but there's nothing there.

All the way around the rest of the tour, you can think of nothing else but that voice, a voice that is so angelic and gentle, yet the way it whispers from all directions yet only in your head, seems so eerie. "All my dreams shall come true.. I wonder what he means.." you ponder silently to yourself..

To Be Continued ...