The Phantom haunted the opera house for years. Though he wasn't a phantom. He was a man. A genius. And he was your teacher. Ever since you father died and you took comfort in the opera and began living there, training as a ballerina...his...voice....was always with you. At night you would hear him... He would teach you, mold your voice to perfection. Because you were perfection. Though you had never seen him you...trusted him. He was a shadow...an aura of dark music... And strangely it was terrifying but also comforting...

After your first starting performance at the opera. He was proud. And he revealed himself to you. Appearing in your mirror with his black clothing and a white mask that covered one half of his face, he took your hand and led you to his lair beneath the opera. It was a world of candles and art and him. He sang to you, his voice intoxicating you with its sound and influence. He was like a drug... He wanted you for himself, to sing for him, to perform his art, you were his. His leather gloves hand was wrapped around yours as he led you through his lair. You couldn't help but look at him. He was handsome from what you could tell. His eyes were dark...his black hair was slicked back...he had a tall and lean form... Everything about him and the energy around him felt...odd but not wrong.

"You alone can make my song take flight..." He held your fainted body and laid you down on his bed as he sang softly... "Help me make the music of...the..." His gloved hand caressed your sleeping face. "Night..."