The Siren of the Opera [ON HOLD!!!]

Chapter Two

Meanwhile....

"Monsiuer? Are you alright?", asked the girl. Erik's consciousness snapped back.

"Hm? Oh, forgive me. Yes, I would very much appreciate to meet Monsiuer...Firmin. Thank you", he replied. The ballerina smiled back. "Of course. But...um...before we go, and sorry to question you once more, do you have any letter of recommendation or recognition? That way, in case Monsiuer Firmin is busy, it would help fasten your meeting with him."

She had a good point, Erik thought. Luckily, he had brought along the letter his mother had written. He quicly rummaged his sack. Erik, then pulled out the year old envolope of his mother's last written words. He handed it over. "Follow me", she said. "Oh! Where are my manners? Sorry for not introducing myself. I'm Meg. Meg Giry. What is your's, if you don't mind me asking, again."

"Ah...my name is--", said Erik, but was interrupted as he had missed a step and slipped. He was fortunate that they were on the last steps. Still, his legs were hurt, possibly leaving a mark. Why must my clumsiness happen now? He questioned. "Oh my! Are you ok?" The girl, or now Meg, said.

Erik nodded his head. Obviously lying. "It appears, Monsiuer, you have a case of buttery feet. What did you say your name was again?", Meg helped pulled him up.

"Erik. Erik Destler. Thank you."

"Well, Monsieur Erik Destler, it seems I can't take my eyes off you."

"Uh...", Erik felt himself blushing.

"If I did, you might hurt yourself. I can't let a decent and good man such as yourself, be injured."

"Um...thank you, I guess." What was she doing to him? He have never felt this way before. This girl, was really something special.

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While they were off, Monsieur Andre and Madame Giry, head choreographer of the opera house, had a intimate discussion. One that concerns safety and future. "Which is why I need you to look out for her. You know the tunnels more than I do and she trusts you. Without me, the Opera Poplaire would be just like how it all started. Just to remind you, it was all in havoc."

"I understand of your concern, Gilles, but I don't have all the time. I have rehearsals to teach, auditions to hold and my own daughter to take care of."

"Yes, but you did say she was also like a daughter to you--", Monsieur Andre replied, abruptly interrupted by none other than Monsieur Firmin.

"Ah! Andre", he said, nodding to Madame Giry in acknowledgment. "Since you are here, I would like to discuss a certain matter. Privately," emphasizing his last word to Giry.

"M'dm Giry is a trustworthy employee. If any of this concerns the opera house, best refer to her opinions. She has worked here longer than I have," mentioned Monsieur Andre.

Firmin exhaled deeply in return, with a small smile. "Very well then. I found this on my desk," he said, revealing an envelope, "and would like to know how and what it means."

"How?".

"Yes. How had it been there? I was certain I had no visitors and had the door locked, when I wasn't in."

Monsieur Andre opened and read out the note. Worry began to grow in him. He noticed he was not the only one. The letter simply stated:

Joseph Buquet has broken the rules.

He turned his attention back to Monsieur Firmin. "What rules?" He enquire sternly.

Andre exchanged a glance with Madame Giry. He needed to make sure if now was the right timing to tell Firmin of her. As if knowing his thoughts, Giry nodded her head in reply. He sighed. "Firmin, before I tell you this, who is Joseph Buquet."

"He is my sister's and brother-in-law's costumer. Carlotta and Piangi. Last I of heard of him, he was sent downstairs to find something. Dresses perhaps. Or merely to check what's down below."

"From the looks of it, he found something else. You see, my dear Firmin, there is a ghost in this opera house. A spirit mostly. And there are certain rules that must be obeyed. Do so, and everything is fine. Clearly your Joseph Buquet did not know this."

"What?!"

"All you need to know," Andre continued, "is don't go down below."

Firmin smirked with a slight titter. "If this is a joke, Andre, it's not funny", he retorted.

"I can assure you. It is not a joke. The spirit has been here for quite some time. She moves every--"

"She?!" heckled Firmin. "Yes, Monsieur Firmin, the spirit, is a she. As I was saying; She moves through doors, she moves through walls. Sometimes she can be frightening. But we obeyed her rules and all went well. We paid her her salary. We left Box 5 for her using. Rumor has it that she lives beneath the Opera Populaire, near the lagoon. It was said that it were once torture chambers too, from the past. That's her territory. That's her domain. Basically, that's where she lives, and whoever goes down there, does not return. She calls herself The Siren of the Opera."

"Andre," Firmin scoffed, "as much as I believe and trust you and everything, it's not real. I know what you're doing here. You're playing tricks to get back at me and my sister for having you fired. This", he held out the letter, "is just a prank." He crumpled it without a care, walking away. Firmin stopped halfway and turned around. "I don't believe in ghosts nor am I afraid of them. There are no such things".

Andre and Madame Giry watched Firmin leave. They expected his reaction. No one would ever believe them until it is too late. No matter their position, one would find them odd and perhaps even mad. But that wasn't the main problem now. What worry them both was Joseph Buquet. Knowing the consequences of disobedience, What did she do?, were both on their minds. They knew very well Buquet was killed, due to early experience. "Perhaps we should wait till the body is found", blurted Giry, breaking the silence.

"No. It would do no good. I must talk to her. It might have been just an accident."

"Gilles, it's very obvious that she did it. Even if she didn't, what...Gilles we've known her for about 20 years. This was no accident."

"Indeed it wasn't", boomed a voiced. "What's going on?".

Andre eyed the ceiling, as if expecting her to be there. "Christine. Did you do it? Is he dead?"

"Answer my question; what is going on?" The voice demanded. "Christine, please" Andre pleaded.

"Yes...yes, he's dead," she replied. While so, a secret doorway opened. This could mean she wanted to discuss confidentially. Andre took in a breath and walked. "Let me come too", said Giry, "if anything, I could be of assistance". Andre inclined his head, and the two proceeded down.