Chapter One

“Catherine, you’re late!” the man’s booming voice echoed throughout the spacious lair and across the vast, glassy lake.

“I’m sorry, Erik!” a petite blonde brushed aside the crimson curtain covering a secret hallway and stepped out. She turned and slid the mirror shut behind her, then ran lightly and delicately across to where the masked man was sitting at the gilded piano bench.

“I thought you weren't coming.”

“You know I couldn’t ever leave, Erik!”

He sighed, but after a moment his countenance brightened. “Catherine, I wrote a new song last night. I couldn’t help thinking about you, and you know how I get when I’m obsessing over something.”

Catherine smiled. “Will you sing it to me? I’d love to hear it…but do make it quick! I have so much to tell you about. Monsieur Gustave Daae and his wife have come to the Opera Populaire to stay and perform for a time! Monsieur Daae plays the violin divinely, and Katrina is so sweet!” She continued to speak, and Erik listened patiently for a moment before he turned away from her and began to strike a few haunting chords on the piano. As he began to sing, Catherine stopped speaking, her mind calmed by the sound of his voice.

“Nighttime sharpens, heightens each sensation – darkness stirs, and wakes imagination. Silently the senses abandon their defenses…” Catherine shivered, a rush of heat flowing to her cheeks. Erik stopped playing, but continued to sing. As he sang the final note, he led her to the swan bed. “Help me make the music of the night.”

“Oh, Erik,” she breathed heavily now, “I don’t know that we should.”

“Why not? I love you, Catherine.” He pulled her down and began to caress her, lightly, softly. She sighed in pleasure as he began to untie her corset. She turned to glance at him, shirtless, tanned beyond belief. Then, Erik drew the black canopy surrounding the bed, and all was dark.
That night, in the ballet dormitories…

“Where is Catherine? That girl should’ve been back here hours ago. I do hope she isn’t out gallivanting in this place with that Madame Daae.”

Madame Guidicelli’s ten year old daughter giggled. “Carlotta, do you know something?”

“Oh, yes, Mother. Catherine and Madame Daae were laughing and talking quite a lot earlier, and I saw them leave the performance early.” She smirked, and Madame Guidichelli smiled thinly at the little Italian girl.

“Thank you, Carlotta. Be a dear and see if you can go find them.”

Carlotta bobbed a quick curtsy and ran out, her thoughts intent on getting even with Catherine Bourbon for being the best ballerina in the place. She’ll never know what caught her.

Meanwhile, in the lair, Erik woke to Catherine’s steady breathing. She stirred gently as he rose, a foreboding feeling upon his heart. He kissed her lightly on the lips, then grabbed his lasso and crept into the gondola. He shoved and began to paddle, stealthily and noiselessly.

Directly above him, Carlotta was hopping mad. She couldn’t find Catherine anywhere! The prima ballerina must’ve been here somewhere! She curled her lip in anger, and shoved through the door of Madame Piangi’s bedroom. Madame’s son, Ubaldo, stirred in his bed, and then woke. “Carlotta?”

“Psst!” she hissed. She motioned to him to come out. “Come quickly, but don’t waken Madame. You know she’ll be in a terrible fit if she doesn’t get her beauty rest!”
He came out, and yawning, asked, “What’s going on?”

“I need you to help me find Catherine Bourbon. She’s missing, and Mother wants her to come back now!”

“You just want revenge.”

“I do not!” she screeched.

“Hush, you’ll waken Mother,” Ubaldo mocked. Carlotta folded her arms and huffed.

“Fine, go back to bed, you lazy, ungrateful wretch!” she cried, and began to stomp off. The diva in her could not help ditching anyone who bossed her around or mocked her, like Catherine usually did.

“Wait, Carlotta! I didn’t mean it! Do let me come!” Carlotta puckered her lips angrily.

“Get on your knees and ask me!” She snickered as he did as she asked. “Fine, let’s go!”

In the meantime, Erik began his way up a long flight of spiral stairs. He knew something was amiss in the heaven above. I’m stuck in hell, with the most beautiful angel ever to guard and guide me. No one is going to ruin this. He reached the top with a flourish of his cloak, and drew out the lasso. He could now hear Carlotta and Ubaldo just outside the door. “Let’s check this room, Ubaldo!” Carlotta cried. They entered as Erik reached the mirror in the wall. He watched them through the glass, as they searched. They were about to leave, when they were stopped in their tracks by a demonic snarl.

“How dare you come here in search of Catherine?” Erik murmured, his voice threatening them to answer. He slid open the mirror as the children began to turn around. Quick as lightning, he slipped the noose around Carlotta’s neck. She gasped, and he pulled tighter.

Behind him, he heard Catherine’s voice. “Erik? Erik, stop, where are you?” He loosened the noose and Carlotta breathed heavily.

“Go!” he commanded. “Never come back! The Opera Ghost is watching you!” Carlotta and Ubaldo ran, frightened out of their wits. Erik turned as Catherine reached the top stair. Her long hair was tousled, and her dress was disheveled. “What’s going on? Where did you go?”

“I had to take care of some mischievous children, that’s all. Come, the night is still young, my dear.” They both began to walk down the steps together.

Carlotta rushed back to the dormitories, where she told her mother everything that had happened. “An opera ghost, you say?” Carlotta nodded, and Madame Guidichelli set her face in a grimace. “It was your imagination. Go to bed.”

“Yes, Mother.” Carlotta kissed her mother’s cheek and laid down. Madame Guidichelli took herself to her own room, where she immediately crashed on her bed.

“An opera ghost?” she whispered into the darkness. “Hell could not be worse.”