~Prologue~

The building that once housed the world-renowned Branson Dance Company was now in shambles. Once grand, it was now empty and forgotten. Nearly thirty years ago, a terrible fire had gutted the building. The cause was still unknown; most attributed it to faulty wiring in the building. But some knew better. They spoke of an "Opera Ghost", a man that had lived in the basement and secret caverns of the building. Today, however, a few people straggled into the building: today was the day of the public auction. A black limousine pulled up, stopping in front of the building. A man jumped out of the limo and opened the door, allowing a gray-haired man to make his slow exit from the car.

This man was Richard Crews, the CEO of Chagny Enterprises. He stared unhappily at the opera house, reflecting on the terrible things that had happened there. He walked slowly into what was once the grand opera stage, where the auctioneer was finishing up a sale: an old poster for a musical. It sold quickly, and Richard waited. He had come for one reason: to buy an old music box that had been described to him. It was made of mahogany, with twin music notes on the top that chimed when the box was wound.

As the auctioneer ended a sale of props, the porter came out with the music box. As he gazed at the box, he became aware of eyes on him. Looking around, he saw an old woman: it was Mrs. Greene, whom he had known in happier times. He barely nodded in recognition, and she too tipped her head.

"Item 665, then. A mahogany music box. It was discovered in the depths of the opera house and is still in working order," the auctioneer said. "Do I hear twenty?"

The bidding war began, with Richard bidding against Mrs. Greene. He won the box, and the porter handed it over to him. He fingered the details, sadness enveloping him.

"It's exactly as she said," he mused. "Will you still work when we have all passed?"

"Lot 666, then. This chandelier once graced this opera room. Many believe it was the cause of the fire. Most of you will recall the strange events of that time and the man they called the phantom of the opera. This mystery continues to baffle us even today. However, we have had the chandelier expertly repaired. Perhaps we can shed some light on this mystery. Gentlemen?"

Richard blinked as the chandelier lit up, restored to its former glory. As it did, all the memories of that time period came rushing back. Things he'd rather leave forgotten.