Song of Shadows: A Phantom of the Opera Reimagining

Chapter 1.1 - "Freaks" (Christine POV)

"Come on, Christine!"

"Careful girls!"

I giggled and chased after my friend, Meg. Today was exciting as we rushed to take our seats alongside other theatre patrons and staff members consistent of performers, stagehand, musicians, and more.

A traveling circus has offered free tickets to the entire opera theatre company as they've recently setup a show in a lot near the theatre. My father, the owner of the theatre, was hesitant to accept, but my uncle, his brother-in-law and a partner manager of the theatre, Professor Richard Valérius, saw no harm. It helps that Madame Giry, my father's current lover since my mother's passing during my birth and my friend, Meg Giry's mother, wanted to go.

"Here papa," I exclaimed as my father moved to sit next to me on the bale of hay, and Madame Giry sat next to him, arm looped through his.

"Darling, have you ever been to one of these shows?" Madame Giry asks of my father.

"No, I can't say Christine or I have ever been to one. I've read of them in the paper, but they just didn't quite pique our interest. How about you?" My father asked.

"We used to frequent them often as my late husband had a fascination with the strange and mysterious," Madame Giry said tickling Meg.

"Strange?" I questioned.

"And mysterious!" Meg exclaimed jumping up.

"Creatures of a wide range!" I turned my attention as a man wearing a long dress jacket and tall hat stood on the wooden stage.

"Is he serious?" I turned asking my father as he patted my arm.

"I am, as we have a man-wolf with mange!" The man extended his arms as a sad looking man covered in hair was dragged across the stage.

"Look, just how curious!" Meg exclaimed jumping down into her seat excitedly.

"Strange..."

"And mysterious!" The crowd seemed to echo.

"But wait, look here, in exchange..." The announcer signaled to a woman walking out with her head through her legs.

"That's quite dexterous..." Madame Giry said fanning herself.

"Strange... and mysterious," My father echoed the crowd, but a look on his face that didn't quite match the rest of the crowd.

"Now, ladies and gentlemen, please exchange your eyes to one of our eeriest..." The announcer spoke as a small figure with a bag over his head was pushed out.

"We have dubbed him the son of Satan, the estrange!"

I watched in horror as the cloth bag was ripped off of his head. A boy who looked maybe ten or eleven years old – and was likely no older than me by maybe two years older - looked up at the crowd in horror and shame. His eyes appeared to water.

"Papa..." I looked to my father who looked in horror.

"How very strange!"

"How very mysterious!"

"He looks like a zombie with his face misarrange," One in the crowd blurted out.

"He is absolutely hideous!" Another shouted.

"Papa... help him..." My heart went out to the boy. He shouldn't be there.