Disclaimer: This POTO fan fiction is a combination of the 2004 movie and the book by Gaston Leroux. I, of course, do not own or claim any of the characters that have made this story wonderful, but I do claim Luesa, who is a character of my own and I love her very much.

-Chapter 1-

The hounds barked loudly through the empty streets of Paris, 1870. Residents shouted from doorways and open windows to the running police, complaining of the racket. But they had more important matters to attend to, and if they were halted, they would never catch the girl they were after.

She was a quick one at that. By the way she dodged through the shadows, they surmised that it was possible she had been raised by gypsies in the South. They chased her across half of the city, and neither they nor the hounds had caught her.

They had almost reached the Opera House, when the dogs no longer barked. As the police rounded the corner, they saw why. Due to the heavy rains that had started earlier that day and continued even then, the grounds in front of the Opera House were blanketed in a little less than an inch of rain. The dogs had lost her scent.

"Damn that girl!" cursed the police chief under his breath.

"Sir," shouted one of the younger men of the group, looking up at the sky. It began to thunder and lightning. "We'll have to leave her be for now. If we don't get out of this storm, we're likely to get killed." The chief grumbled angrily, but he knew the lieutenant was right.

"C'mon gents. We'll have to deal with her another time." So they left, as quickly as they had come, to try and escape the worst of the storm. Little had they known that she had hidden within ten feet, under an overturned cart.

After the men had left, the girl crawled out from under the cart, looking around for a place to shelter herself. All of the shops in the square were closed and none had suitable cover. It took her two looks around the area to notice a grate in the side of the Opera House, right across from her.

She dashed across the short span to the grate, nearly slipping. At first, the grate wouldn't budge, but when she put her full force behind it, the grate flew open, causing her to fall back hard. She winced and cursed to herself, but knew she had to get out of sight.

Water quickly followed her in as she climbed down into the shaft beyond. With another heave, she closed the grate. It latched with an echoing click that bounced off the stone walls, causing her to flinch. She ran down the passageway, splashing through the thin layer of water that trickled along in front of her.

Eventually, the ground began to slope upward gently, and she slowed her pace. Leaving the rain water behind her, she stumbled along the dark passage, feeling her way more than seeing it. Ahead of her, she could see a faint light. Within moments she was in a small room, dimly lit by an assortment of candles that lined the walls.

Huddling in a corner, she looked around and tried to slow her breathing. She hadn't noticed until then how worn out her body was or how cold being out in the storm had made her. Closing her eyes, she soon fell into an uneasy sleep in a pile of something that made her rather uncomfortable, aching, shivering, wet, and yet still too tired to care.

Deep within the labyrinth beneath the Opera House, the Phantom was rudely awakened by the echoing sound of a metal grate being closed with grate force. As he sat, sprawled in his throne-like chair, he held his head with one hand. He had tried to rid himself of a terrible headache, which had now amplified thrice. "Damnable," he muttered.
"Absolutely damnable." Stomping his booted foot, he decided that a nap was now out of the question.

Instead, the Phantom decided on discovering the source of the echo. Grabbing his hoodless cloak from the back of the thrown, he flung it around his shoulders, knowing how cold his personal hell could get on a stormy day. With a few powerful strides, he reached the edge of the small, underground lake, and he climbed into his small boat. Grabbing the long black pole beside it, adorned with a silver skull topper, he pushed off the rock bottom and soon was off, looking for what he assumed to be an intruder.

Creeping through rays of candle light, then darkness, the Phantom made his way through the water passageways. He had decided to give whoever had caused his pain to worsen a rightful punishment. Seething with anger, he nearly lunged from the boat when it reached one of the stairways.

Quickly but quietly, he made his way along dark hallways, most of the floors and walls dripping with rain water. Heading for the source of the sound, he entered a small room. Candles lined the walls, mostly lit, though the wind had put a few out. The room was almost entirely empty, but, in the corner was a huddled form, amidst a pile of bones.

Kneeling down, the Phantom studied the face that hid under the being's drenched hair and cloak hood. "Well, well, well...what do we have here?" Smirking, he chuckled a little. "What to do, my little mouse, what to do?" As he tried to decide what to do with the sleeping stranger, an idea, along with a sharp pain in his temple, hit him.

Gritting his teeth, he held his head again. With ease, he lifted the body into his arms, and made his way back up the passage. Within moments, he and his one person entourage were in the boat. With a quick look over his shoulder at the stranger, he smiled and departed for his lair...