Trapdoor || A Phantom of the Opera/Doctor Who Fanfiction

Chapter One

A/N:

A few notes before we get rolling here:

1. I'm only going to do a disclaimer once, since we all know this and I don't want to have to type it at the beginning of every single chapter. I don't own Phantom of the Opera or Doctor Who.

2. My Erik is almost entirely ALW, as portrayed by Ramin Karimloo in the 2011 stage version. The main reason for this is quite simply because he is my favorite version of Erik. I am using his portrayal in basically everything, from the physical - height, eye color (dark brown, not gold), and especially voice - to the emotional - the way Karimloo develops Erik's emotions is unique and not something I've seen in other versions. That said, I do still call him Erik, despite his name never being given in the musical. It's just easier that way.

3. No, this is not a time travel fic. Yes, it is AU. Yes, it will be Amy/Erik. If you don't like it, well, don't read it. You've been warned.

That said, I hope you enjoy.

-Han

Chapter One

It all started when Amelia Pond found the hidden door in the ballet girls' dressing room.

Really, it was an accident. Amelia was the newest member of the corps de ballet, and therefore it was only possible for her to have heard the barest whisper of the 'Opera Ghost' in the three days she'd been there. If she had heard such rumors, she had dismissed them as merely stories, and had forgotten them already. So it was no surprise when she found the door and did not realize it for what it was.

It was the end of Amelia's third day at the Opera Populaire, and the ballet girls were in their large dressing room. Sighing, Amelia gingerly sat on the floor to take off her toe shoes. As she leaned against the wall, she heard a faint creak, and the wall moved ever so slightly, as though she had leaned against a closed door.

Amelia - or Amy, as she was commonly called - immediately stood up again. When she turned to look at the wall behind her, however, there was no evidence of a door there.

"Amy, are you coming?" asked the last girl remaining, a petite brunette named Clara. She stood in the doorway, watching Amy stare at the wall.

"Yeah, I just forgot something," Amy lied, giving her a quick smile. "Go on ahead, I'll be right along."

Clara nodded. "Don't forget to blow out the lamps," she reminded her friend before quietly leaving Amy alone in the room.

As soon as Clara's footsteps had receded, Amy's hands were skimming over the wall, feeling for ridges that might indicate the outline of a door. Even though it could have been just the wall itself that had creaked, but she wanted to find out for sure.

Once she had a rough approximation of the size of the door, she felt along the wall for a way to open it. Eventually, her fingertips slipped into a shallow, circular groove that was a little too perfectly shaped to be natural. She pushed against it, and with another creak the wall opened up into a pitch-black corridor.

Amy stepped into the corridor, still in her toe shoes. Her heartbeat accelerated as she stood just inside the mouth of the tunnel. All her senses were telling her, Go back. Close the door and go to bed and forget about it.

She kept walking.

As Amy went deeper into the tunnel, the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, and she had the distinct feeling that something - or someone - was watching her every move. She tried to tell herself that it was just her imagination, that it was just the darkness getting to her. She had never liked the dark much.