Erik is NOT Dead (Phantom of the Opera one-shots)

Gaston Leroux's Book

Author's Note:

Dear Readers,

I was inspired to write this one-shot after reading a short story on Fanfiction.net. I simply couldn't leave the idea alone. So, here is your "little" one-shot. I hadn't intended for it to be THIS long.

sarahlet2999

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Summery:

After finishing his book Phantom of the Opera, Gaston Leroux decided to do a little more investigating into this "ghost" business. He still thought it to be a bit of a fairy tale but still thought it worth his while to look into the last lead. Soon, he learns it wasn't a fairy tale.

_______________________

Gaston's Leroux's POV:

I descended into the darkness of the cellars. Deep down I knew my trip would be foolish. It was just a tale. Just a myth. But, something lured me down there. It had to be simple curiosity to see something few had ever seen.

My shoes made not much noise as I went into the bowels of the earth. It was dark and even my lantern couldn't penetrate it. I felt eyes on me. I shook my head, convincing myself it was simply my overactive imagination. More than once I courted the idea of leaving the place but I quickly changed my mind everything time the thought crossed it.

I had made my choice. I would descend until the fifth cellar and see if everything was as it was rumored to be.

It took me close to two hours to reach the fifth cellar. I wasn't a coward. No, I had always prided myself on my courage. But, this unending darkness that oppressed those from the light who dared to venture into it.

Yes, I decided I must be going mad. I spoke of the darkness as if it was alive. I was going mad. I knew I had to be mad when suddenly, from the darkness, a calm voice spoke.

"Monsieur, are you lost?" I glanced around, searching for the voice until I saw a light moving towards me. If the light hadn't been attached to the voice I would have run towards it but knowing something was with it, well, frightened me. I was starting to believe the legends I had heard.

There didn't seem to be a face with the light until it grew closer and I nearly gasped as the face I did see.

It was the face of a woman.

She couldn't have been more than fifteen with blazing red hair and hazel eyes that almost glowed. Her voice was deep. If she had been a singer she would have been an alto. If she hadn't such a low speaking voice I would have been at ease much quicker. But, as it was, I was now relaxed. This pretty girl couldn't be the phantom. It was impossible.

"Ma'am, I don't know if I am lost. I'm seeking this ghost everything speaks of." I decided to be blunt with the girl. She looked at me and then at the ground. Then back at me.

"Monsieur, Mama will want to speak to you before Daddy gets home." I looked at her, very much confused. I had spoken of ghosts but she spoke of parents. She turned her back and began to walk away, halting to see if I was following her. I was. Perhaps her mother knew something of the ghost.

We continued to walk until we reached a lake. Lamps burned on what looked like a pier. I followed the girl as she walked out onto it. She extinguished her torch and laid it on the pier before stepping into a small gondola.

She made gestures for me to follow and I did nervously. I hated vessels of any kind. Not only did I get seasick often but the thought of not having solid ground beneath me frightened me.