Don't Be Afraid... //Made In 2015

Chapter 1:

The night was young, and the sky was lit with all the full moon's glory. The only thing out of the ordinary was the flames that ingolft the Opera House. One of the most beloved building of entertainment, was now up in flames by the incident that had happened earlier. An incident that now invold many people to die. However, due to the new chandiler falling upon the audience, there was no telling how many were dead now. If they weren't able to get out of the Opera Populaire in time, they certainly were burned alive... Hours earlier, an opera called Don Juan was being performed. To many that were seated in the house were pondering over why there were so many officers standing at attention; standing there, eyes cautiously looking around at Box five, and their hands on their guns. What could have possibly been going on? True, there was that one 'accident' that happened with one of the stage hands being hung by his neck over the stage during one performance...Then the destuction to the chandiler. But since they repaired the new one, and had the Masquerade; nothing seemed to be all that bad. But now, the Opera House was gone, ruined. There would be nothing left but the horrible memoeries of what The Phantom Of The Opera did...

"Christine, I love you..." a haunting, yet beautiful voice played out towards the ballet girl, who became the new Prima Donna for quite some time. She stared at the disfigured man, eyes tearing at the sight og him. He was barely a man at all. Christine walked to the man, and held his hand tightly in her's. He looked up at her from his desk, both confused, and happy to see that she returned to him. However, as she pulled away from him, he felt something in his grasp. Looking down at his hand, he saw a ring. The same ring he had given her to ask for her love. Now that she had given it back, he understood. Looking back up to where Christine had stood, he saw that she was gone. This caused his heart to sink further in his chest. Of course, how could such a lovely woman as her, love such an ungly creature as him? After all, he was The Phantom... he had caused all this terror to the people of the Opera House. He murdered, he haunted, and he excisted... But without him, there would have never been the Opera Populaire. He was the master mind behind the stage. He was the creator. He was everything that the managers could not be. Much to his desire for the flesh of a woman, he could not substane himself the jealousy and bitterness that he left towards her lover, Raoul. But that was all over now. In an attempt to keep Christine as his prisoner forever, Christine had proven to him that he was never alone, at least she believed that... Now that she was free, Raoul and herself could leave and be together. Weather she left Paris, or France itself, she could go anywhere with her fiance. She was free.

" Say you'll share with me, one love, one lifetime..." a soft voice, like a hush whisper...

"Say the word and I will follow you..." a torment due to his fury...

"Share each day with me each night, each morning..." the voices haunt his mind, soul, and heart... The Phantom stood, in a fit of heart break, and grabbed a near by candlestick. Turning to the mirrors in his lair, he gripped the cnadlestick tightly.

"You alone can make my song take flight, it's over now, the music of the night!~" The sound of glass shattering, and a voice calling out like a howl through the underground caves. It was truly a sound of loneliness and desperation...

But that was many years ago. Most of it had been forgotten. Most of it still haunted the minds of victims. But the events that happened at the Opera never left. Tales of those who went into the abandoned Opera House could still hear the shatter of the chandiler, the screams of victims, the crackling of flames that bursted thr windows.... It was still there. It would never go away. It had been stated that The Phantom of the Opera was dead. But never determained for sure. No, he was very much still alive. Still in Paris to this day. He walks the streets every now and then. But he still takes shelter in the under grounds, like a rat. He is unknown to people in Paris, but if he is to give out any name; It's Erik. Erik Destler... Well, on this very day he was wondering about Paris, only looking around for any kind of amusment that catch his attention. However, none so far. It was when he looked up at the sky he notcied that it was quite clouded by gray. Of course, it was around the time of year when the great Opera disaster happened. Erik shook his head, and pulled his coat around him tightly as a rush of cold hit his body, sending shivers down his spine. He turned the corner of a street, only seeing the gates of a cemetery were open. He studied the gate carefully, before his attention was caught in the distance. A funeral must have been going on right now. He could see a crowd of people surround a coffin being lowered into the ground. At first, he was curious to know who had died in Paris, but figured it would be rude to easedrop... However, seeing a familar face made him stop in his tracks before he left. Seeing those hazel eyes, looking down at the coffin. Erik knew exactly who is was; Raoul. Erik was now fully confused. Didn't he and Chistine leave France? Now curious to why they were back, he entered the cemetery, making sure not to be seen by Raoul, he made his way in the shadows. Finding a patch of forest in the grave yard, he hid behind it, and looked over at the grave.