Though I knew she would probably always hate me, I still loved her. I wanted her love; her acceptance of me. My heart sank as I watched her dancing with another man. 

“I love you, Alice,” he said.

“I love you, too, Raoul.” Her musical voice rang in my ears.

She loves another man, I thought.

I flew into the next corridor, my cape trailing behind me. I watched, through a small window that looked down on the entranceway of the opera house, Alice and Raoul dancing as the crowd sang Beauté de Coeur.

I pulled out from my pocket the scroll where I had written a song just for Alice. 

I knew it was an unjust trade; her giving me love while I, though loving her, am a hideous and torturing creature. 

I peered down at them, again; my true love and the man I’d very much like to kill, dancing together. I felt my cold, dead heart shatter into a million pieces as their lips met. 

“Can’t you see I love her,” I whispered to no one.

I strode quickly out of there and down the winding staircase into the catacombs beneath the opera house. I sat on the old wooden chair. I pulled off the mask that hid my disfigurement. My eyes closed as I listened to the faint voices stories above me.

I sauntered closer to the man on the other side of the room. I looked below myself to the stage where there was a rehearsal. The man holding the rope for the screens noticed me and, as instincts told him, ran around a corner. I chased him.   We were back over the stage when he fell over. I wrapped a noose around his neck, and tightened it. His breath quickened then stopped all together. I let the body drop onto the stage below. I heard the screams as I moved away. 

“The Phantom of the opera, he’s here,” I heard a girl whisper.

I left and walked down the stairs into the hidden hallway behind Alice’s mirror.  I knew she’d arrive soon. 

She walked in a few minutes later. Her long hair curled around her pale face.