Authors Note: This is based off The Phantom of the Opera, a popular musical. Except they won't be breaking out into song and dance in my story. (Hardy har har, I crack myself up.) :) Sorry. We're going to say this takes place during the time where Edward became defiant, leaving Carlisle to feed off of humans. He's new enough to being a vampire, and hasn't interacted with humans much, so he doesn't know quite his strength. Enjoy, and please review! (And if you like this story, go see my other ones!) XOXO

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or any of the characters in it. I do not own The Phantom of the Opera and this is not my idea. It was taken from The Phantom of the Opera. All rights go to Stephenie Meyer and the individuals who created The Phantom of the Opera. No money is being made off of this. It is a fanfiction.

I glanced behind my back, biting my lip. It was a bad habit of mine that I'd had ever since I was a child. My friend Jessica babbled away next to me, oblivious as to what my problem was. I wrapped my arms around myself, lowering my gaze to the ground. I liked to imagine that if I didn't see someone, they couldn't see me. It was far from the actual truth. I always felt like someone was watching me, a dark shape always a little bit away from me. Occasionally I'd hear the rustle of cloth, or a ghostly whisper.

I confided in Jessica about it before, how I always felt like someone was following me. She rolled her eyes and said I was letting my good voice and looks get to my head. I told my mother who said I was simply over-reacting due to the darkness of the opera we lived in. I had agreed with her. Anything was better than being followed.

"Wasn't that so dumb of him?" asked Jessica. I had no idea what she had been talking about, but I nodded my head.

"It was." I hoped she wouldn't catch the fact I hadn't been listening to her, just agreeing. Then again, she never did.

She continued babbling until we reached my mother, Renee. She hugged me, waving Jessica away from us. "You did a marvelous job, Bella, dear." I smiled at her compliment. I had just gone up on stage -- I was an opera singer. Well, sort of. I sang whenever the woman, who usually sang here, some major drama queen, bailed because she didn't get exactly what she wanted. Usually I was just a dancer.

I had been, basically, nobody at first, until about two weeks ago. The lady had bailed and despite the owner of the operas pleadings, she left. Renee, knowing I had a good voice, offered to have me sing for them instead. They had decided that even if I couldn't sing, I would go up on stage, simply because I was "very pretty", as they put it, and they needed someone to sing. But the thing is I did have a good voice. I wasn't trying to boast or be mean or anything of that sort. I'm just not one of those girls to sit there and deny their talents. Be grateful for what you have or can do.

"Thank you, mama." I was most likely blushing, and that was confirmed with my mother pulled away from our hug and burst out laughing. I giggled.

Abruptly, she turned serious. Taking my hand, she started pulling me along. "Come with me, Bella. I have something to show you." I followed after her, tripping a couple of times to my humiliation. While I was fortunate looking, and while I could sing, walking across a flat surface without tripping was not something I could do. "Oh, Bella," she sighed. I stared at my mother. The confusion must have been evident on my face.

We stopped inside of my room, and by my mirror, on my dresser, lay flowers. There was a bouquet of pink flowers, which according to my mother and other girls in the opera, meant a crush. I smiled, flipping open the card.

Beautiful flowers for a beautiful lady.

-M

I groaned. That was Mike. He never really took the hint I didn't like him, but shrugging it off, I shut the card, dropping it onto the dresser. There was a bouquet of bright red flowers, which apparently meant love. My cheeks flushed in pleasure. Was somebody I knew actually claiming to love me? Or somebody I didn't know? I shuddered; thinking of the shadow that I always felt was following me. I flipped the card open.

When I saw these flowers, I thought of you and how bright your cheeks are when you blush. HAHA.

Jake

I groaned once more, but this time it was in embarrassment. Did my cheeks really go that bright? I turned to my mother. "Do my cheeks...?" My voice trailed off. I knew she had read the card; she was a snoop. She nodded her head before bursting out into laughter. I rolled my eyes up towards the ceiling. Of course.

And last, but not least, was one white flower. I froze. That meant eternal love. Who on earth would send me that? And only one? That was... odd. I picked it up, turning it around in my hand, and that was when I noticed it.

The tip of the flower was black, as if it had been dipped in ink. I clutched the flower tightly, hearing the hard stem snap between my fingers. I had crushed the flower. Good. That would show anyone who thought this prank was funny.

People often talked about the phantom of the opera. Supposedly, he was suppose to leave red roses with the tips of them black to symbol before he was suppose to kill you. It was rumored that he killed often and without mercy. People claimed that he stalked the halls of the opera, a creature of the dark. I tossed the flower onto the ground, stepping on it with my heel.

"Bella! That is not wise!" Her voice rang out in horror. I could see by her expression she was horrified by what I had done. She was a firm believer in the phantom of the opera. I dug my heel into it for good measures.

"Please, mama, be reasonable. This is just a nasty prank. He leaves red roses when he kills somebody, not pretty white flowers." I smiled reassuringly at my mother, who continued to stare at the flower which laid on the ground in horror.

"And what if he doesn't want to kill you, Bella?" She was shrieking now, her hands flying up to her cheeks. "What if he meant something else, leaving you a white rose instead of a red one? What if he doesn't want to kill you, Bella? What if he wants you for his own?" She was screaming now, her eyes bulging as her cheeks flushed. I stared at her for a moment before I started laughing – I couldn't help it. My mother could be so absurd sometimes.

"Mama, mama, sit down. Do not fret; I will be fine. I highly doubt the phantom," I snorted, "wants me. He is just a fairytale, mama. That is all." I tried to calm my mother, patting at her shoulders reassuringly. She shrugged me off, her eyes still wide. I sighed, pursing my lips together. "Mother, the phantom of the opera does not exist. He is a story told to scare everyone that goes to this opera."

"Bella, you've seen some of the people he's killed!" She was persistent, trying to make me believe I could be in danger. I sighed once more, turning my back on her to look into the mirror. This was partly to hide my ludicrous expression, and partly because her words sent a small shiver of fear up the length of my spine.

"Mama, please. Do not worry so. I am perfectly fine."

"Perfectly fine? Perfectly fine? You are far from perfectly fine! You are... you are," her voice was coming out strangled. I turned back around, grabbing her firmly by the tops of her arms. I backed her up, seating her in a chair. That seemed to calm her slightly, and I bent so I was eye level with her, gently putting one of my hands on her cheeks.

"Mama, I know you are a firm believer in the phantom of the opera. I am not." Renee opened her mouth to say something, but I cut her off. "But if it'd make you feel better, I will not roam the halls alone. I will always have another girl with me." Mama was already shaking her head.

"Take two girls with you. He would hopefully be more merciful on girls and not kill them. If you took a boy, he might kill him. If you took one girl and she saw him, she would be brushed aside, deemed tired or insane." She seemed furious, and I couldn't really blame her. She believed the phantom existed, and yet everyone scorned her for that. I thought it was ridiculous that she wanted me to take two girls with me, but I didn't say so. I just nodded in agreement to appease her.

"Maybe three girls would be better." My mother mused quietly, and I stood up before she made me promise something else.

"I am going to go get changed, mama. I wouldn't want to ruin your dress." I had nothing to wear when I went on stage -- I was rather poor, and it was last minute, so my mother let me wear her old wedding dress. She was a widow, and I silently wondered if it was painful to have to look at her wedding dress once more. I hoped her pride for me over shadowed that pain, if so.

"Good idea," muttered my mother. Her voice was distant, patronizing, so I knew she wasn't really listening to me.

I went to my room, quietly closing the door behind me. Who would play that sort of prank on me? Obviously not Mike or Jake. Not Tyler, because from what I could tell, he seemed rather fond of me. Maybe Lauren had done it. She had always been jealous I was a better dancer, and now that she knew I was a better singer as well it must of made her angry. Yes, that made sense.

But I still felt like something was off.

Lauren and I had grown up together as dancers for the opera. While we may not get along, she knew me and I knew her. She knew that I wouldn't be frightened by receiving a flower from the phantom, because I wouldn't believe it. He doesn't exist, and any sightings of him were just someone playing another prank. I sighed, taking all of the pins out of my hair, one by one. I winced each time I had to do so, the sharp pins having dug into my head. Finally, after several minutes, my dark curls fell back down my back and I messed them up, trying to make them look more natural.

"Bella."

I sat up straight, hearing the whisper float through my room. I was frozen, my pulse increasing as goose bumps went up my arms. It took me a moment, but I glanced around the room, checking to see if anyone was there. Nobody was, naturally. They could possibly be hiding, but I turned back to the mirror, playing with my brunette locks once more. I wouldn't let whoever it was know I was scared. (It was probably Jake. He thought it was hilarious how easily I got scared.)

The whisper did not return for several minutes, and by then I had been sure I had been imagining it. Jake wouldn't have the patience to hide behind something for more than a minute. He would of jumped out at me by then.

"Bella."

It said my name once more, but this time it was louder, more clear. I straightened up once more, sparing another glance around the room. I was scared, but I refused to show any fear, just in case it was Jake playing a terrible prank.

"You know, Jake," my voice was furious, but the terror mixed in was easy to hear. "This isn't funny. If you keep this up I'm going to tell Quil and Embry about how you like spending time with Billy, despite how much you complain and whine to them about it." It wasn't much of a threat, but it would work for now. There was no response. "They are going to think you are a baby, Jake. Do you really want to be labeled as a baby?" There was no response once more. "That's what I thought. So come out!" My voice cracked, and I realized just how scared I was. Perhaps I should get my mother to help me undress.

"Bella, who are you talking to?" My mother demanded, banging on the door. Speak of the devil and the devil shall appear. Or in this case, angel, for she was my mother. She tried to turn the knob, I could it, but it wouldn't turn, and she began beating against the door roughly. "Bella, you open this door right now young lady!" Her voice was frantic. I was just confused. I know I didn't lock the door. Maybe the knob was just slippery.

I brought my hand to the knob, turning it and pulling.

It didn't budge.

"Mama, um, small problem," my voice was as terrified as hers. "Actually, scratch that. Mama, big problem. It won't open." I was shrieking now, pulling the door with all of my strength. She was banging against the door, most likely as terrified as I was. All because of that shadow I often saw and that rose that someone had left me. It was ridiculous of me, I knew, but I couldn't help the spark of fear that triumphed over my, causing my diaphragm to clench in response. I put my foot on the wall next to the door, pulling as hard as I could. All I managed was to fall backwards onto my backside.

Hearing my fall seemed to increase my mother's panic. "Bella, are you alright?" She had stopped banging against the door, realizing at the same time I did that it was futile. It's not like we could break down the big door. It was quite big, and we weren't strong enough, for we were not large ladies. Even if we were, it might land on one of us and injure us. "Bella, Bella, answer me." I hadn't answered right away, causing my mother to panic even more.

"I'm fine, mama. I just fell. You know me and how graceful I am..." I joked lightly, attempting to make this situation better. It was odd, though. I could dance quite well. I just couldn't walk across a flat, stable surface with nothing in my way without tripping. Perhaps it was years of practicing that gave me the ability to dance, for I often wished to impress my mother, and so practiced whatever would make her jubilant. My mother seemed to of calmed down slightly, although I knew she was still panicking. After a long moment of her not saying anything, she finally spoke.

"Bella, I want you to say right there. Well, actually, back up a few feet and then stay right there. Don't move from that spot until I get some men to break down this door. Do you hear me, Isabella? I want you to stay right there." She was calm now, but I knew her well enough to know that was a facade. I nodded, then realizing that she couldn't see me. I sighed at my own nonexistent intelligence. I took a few feet backwards.

"Yes, mama."

"Good girl, Bella." I heard her feet shuffling away as she walked... no, wait, ran away to go find some men. I don't see why I couldn't move from this very spot. It's not like someone could take me away from here, despite my mother's constant fear. There was no where we could go. What, was he going to kidnap me and hide me under my own couch? I think not. Now that the image was planted into my mind, however, I couldn't stop the giggle that erupted from my mouth. I brought my hand up to cover my mouth, stifling the laughter that erupted from between the plump flesh of my lips.

"Silly Bella. Even when you're in the worst situations, you still manage to giggle. I wonder how."

It was that voice again, and I jumped slightly, shrieking. I knew know it wasn't Jake. The voice no longer whispered, and that was not Jacob's voice.

It was like velvet; soft, attractive, appealing. I wanted to go to it, to see whoever it was that spoke those words. To see if his beauty could match the beauty of his voice -- that would be incredible, and would not doubt leave me breathless. I bet he sang better than me. It was only fear that held me where I was, yet it was also fear that stopped me from screaming for help. Something about that voice seemed dangerous and my breath quickened, my chest heaving erotically in response to the fear that overwhelmed my slim entity. It was almost like that voice could sense I was afraid, for he spoke once more.

"Don't be afraid. I'm not going to hurt you. I would never." The voice was soothing now, and once again I felt the urge to find whoever spoke those words once more. It was inhumanly attractive. I knew that right away. I glanced around the room, slowly turning around to try and find him. I saw nothing. I was about to move from this spot, to try and follow this voice when I remembered the promise I made to my mother. My breath hitched, and I placed one hand on my heart to try and come it. That did no good, and so I averted my gaze downwards, briefly catching a glance of my hand.

It hand was shaking.

I took a deep breath and exhaled soundly, struggling to calm my frantic nerves. Panicking in a bad situation was not a good idea. "Please, sir," I began. "Please. You are scaring me greatly! Please, leave my room at once." I made my voice as firm as I could. I was pretty sure this man was in my room, unless he had found some way to sound as if he were in my room, but in reality was out in the hall. I shook my head, realizing I was letting my imagination run wild.

"And leave you?" He was amused. "Never." I stiffened at that. What did he mean by that? Of course he was going to leave me. I mean, I was to be married soon enough. I was of age and had enough suitors to find a decent husband.

"Sir, please, go. You cannot watch me forever. I will be married soon enough -- after all, I am of age." And now it appeared as if I was babbling, and I took another deep breath, letting it out as slowly and quietly as I could. "Besides, if you're not going to leave now, would you be a dear and break down my door? Or, at least get it to open?" That was probably not the brightest idea on my part, considering I was talking to a complete stranger. I considered the possibility my mother had gotten to me and now my imagination was going wild, but I brushed that aside. I didn't have enough creativity to imagine that voice. He chuckled, and suddenly a dark shape appeared in front of me at an inhuman speed.

He wore all black, something that would hide him well in darkness. He had bronze, messy hair that was on top of his head, and it nearly brought a smile to my lips. It was boyish and rather cute. His skin was pale, ghostly white in a way. His features... they were perfect. He was almost too good looking, and I struggled to breath for a moment in shock. Was it possible to be that good looking? I didn't think so. He reached his hand out to me for me to grab and I looked up, my brown eyes meeting his crimson ones. I gasped; horrified as I broke the promise I had made my mother and backed away from him.

Every part of me was shaking now, and I reached my hands up to cover my face in protection. He took a few steps towards me now, backing me up into my dresser. He held his hand out to me once more. His eyes were... were red! Only monsters in stories had red eyes.

"Come, now, I won't hurt you." His voice was soft and alluring. I kept my eyes downcast, not wanting to see those crimson eyes. Never, not even in my nightmares, had I seen something so terrifying. Sure, I had nightmares about creatures with crimson, vivid red eyes, but it had never been real. Nothing to be afraid of. But now it was as real as I was.

After I had nightmares, I could go see my mother. She would envelop me in her thin arms and hold my close to her slender entity while stroking my hair, her own locks tickling my forehead as I cried into her chest. Unfortunately, those days were over, for nightmares of monsters no longer occurred. "Look up at me, Bella." I kept my gaze down and he brought his fingers to my chins, bringing my head up roughly. He kept his hand under my chin so I couldn't look away. I hesitantly looked at his crimson red eyes, automatically cringing away. I would of run if it weren't for the fact his fingers tightened on my chin until it started to hurt.

"I'll scream," I threatened. He shook his head, seeming amused.

"No, you won't."

"Yes, I will. I'm not going anywhere with you." I don't know how I knew, but I had a gut feeling he wanted to take me away. To where, I wasn't exactly sure. He laughed softly.

My mother was seriously twisting my mind to think like herself.

"Yes, you will."

"No, I won't!" I shrieked out, raising my voice an octave higher. Where was my mother and the strong men she promised to bring? "I won't go anywhere with a monster! A terrible, cruel, stalking monster! Jake! Jake!" I started screaming, trying to back away from him. His grip on my chin tightened until I cried out in pain, and I could tell he was getting angry. Furious, perhaps. His eyes were narrowed. "Jake! Jake, please!" I continued screaming, tears sliding down my face now. I wouldn't call for my mother. That would put her in danger. Jake was much bigger and stronger, and could defend me, yes? I hoped, anyway.

He yanked me forward by my chin. I cried out in pain once more, but he brought one freezing cold hand down to cover my mouth. I bit down on it, but it didn't seem to affect him. I brought my fists up, beating against his chest, but once again, it didn't affect him. It just hurt my fists. It took me a minute, but eventually I stopped struggling. Just sat there and cried. I brought my hands up to cover my face and he let go of my mouth and chin.

I rubbed against my chin, which seemed to be throbbing, trying to will the pain to go away. There was a tense silence. "Did I hurt you?" He finally asked, and I looked up to meet his gaze. He actually appeared concerned. I didn't answer him, but I stopped rubbing my chin, wiping at my tears instead. "I apologize if I did." His voice was low now, and he held out his hand to me once more. I sniffled, averting my gaze elsewhere once more. Perspiration adorned my brow, his harmonious voice ringing in my ears.

"I won't go with you." My voice was quiet. I tried to be firm, but I was too afraid to sound certain. My gaze flickered between the floors and meeting his gaze; I gasped when I met his gaze, a shudder going through me. I was attracted to him that much was obvious – for who wouldn't be? His looks were practically irresistible, but it's that voice of his that truly got to me. There was something about his eyes that made me want to follow him, that made me trust that he wouldn't hurt me.

"Please."

That was all he said, and I gave in, placing my small hand in his bigger one. I was dazzled by his gaze. I felt light headed, sort of out of it as he started leading me away who knows where. I was too captivated by his gaze to look anywhere else, but I was positive we never opened my door (Which had yet to be broken down.) Meaning, there was another door of some sort in my room. A door was shut behind me, and I could hear a distant banging from my door.

"Bella? Bella? Are you in there? Are you okay? I'm going to open this door now." It was Jake. This snapped me out of it, and I was brought back into the present. The phantom -- I presumed, anyway, judging by my mother's persistent plea's that there was one -- had led me into a hallway that was lit by torches, and I was surprised to know this hallway was somehow connected to my room. Perhaps we had traveled longer then I had originally thought, and we had left my room. Jake's voice was getting more and more distant as the phantom led me farther in.

"Bella? Bella, answer me, please!" Jake was panicking now, thinking I might have hurt myself or knocked myself out. (I often managed to hurt myself.) His voice was getting harder to hear, the phantom quickening his pace.

"Jake?" I called out, refusing to keep walking. I had just realized who exactly I had followed into this dark hallway. Jake obviously heard me, because the knocking on my door stopped. I dug the heels of my feet into the floor, my head turning around to gaze behind me.

"Bella, you're okay! You had me worried there for a second. Why is your voice so far away?"

"Bella, come, now," the phantom was saying, his velvet voice reassuring. I thought I heard Jake inhale sharply, but I could have easily been mistaken.

"Bella! Bella, who was that speaking? Don't go anywhere! I'm breaking down this door right now. Get out of the way if you're close to it." And just like that I could hear him shoving his entire weight against it, the door shuddering beneath it. A few more shoves and it would break. I could see the phantom, the beautiful phantom whose gaze I now refused to meet, looking as calm as ever.

"Bella, come with me now. We have no more time to fool around. If you won't do it to satisfy your curiosity about me, then you should do it for Jake." He smiled lightly at that, and I glanced up, his calm eyes meeting my furious ones. Was he implying what I think he was? That he would hurt Jake if she didn't follow him?

"Surely you jest!" I was furious now, but frightened. Not for myself, but for Jake. I didn't think the phantom had any plans to hurt me. In an odd way, although I knew I was just being tricked into submission, I trusted him not to hurt me. Maybe it's because I had been raised to believe only ugly creatures were evil, as I read in stories when I was a little girl. He raised one eye-brow, his alabaster forehead's smoothness abruptly being tarnished, which was enough of an answer for me. I wouldn't take risks when it involved my best friend. Taking one more glance towards where Jake was, I took the man's hand, allowing him to lead me away.