A cold winter breeze blows through the Mushroom Kingdom. It is in the middle of December, and the capital city of the kingdom is getting ready for Christmas, cheerful chatter and children playing in the snow.

However, not everyone is enjoying the holidays.

A young detective named Pennington is slowly walking the streets of the city, his eyes narrowed as he looks for a certain building. A building, at least fifty years old, that has become a stain on the town's history. A place filled with so many dark secrets, that no one dares uncover the truth.

That place is the Mushroom Kingdom Opera.

Pennington, after walking for hours, finally finds the dark building. He stares in awe at the half destroyed historical opera. Scorch marks stain the once beautiful white marble building, with shatter windows and half obliterated roof. A perfect place for rumors, a perfect place for mystery.

A perfect place for a ghost to live.

Pennington looks around the opera's surroundings, and sees a bunch of people crowding into the place. Puzzled as to why so many people are around the dark building, Pennington slowly walks over to the nearest toad.

"Excuse me," Pennington says. "But why are so many people here at the opera? I thought no one comes here."

The toad turns around.

"Normally yes," he replies. "But the princess has ordered for something to be done about it, as it is a gloomy place. There is a auction going on, you see, to get rid of the opera's old treasures before they destroy the building and rebuild a new opera."

Pennington's eyes widen. "What? They can't do that! There so much history here, so many mysteries of the past!"

"Mysteries that everyone wants to forget."

The toad studies the young detective.

"You aren't from around here, are you?"

"No, I am not. I'm a reporter from Poshly Heights," Pennington explains, tipping his detective's hat. "I'm doing a story of the famous Mushroom Kingdom Opera, hoping to prove that its dark legends are true."

"You mean..."

"Yes. I am here to discover the truth about the Phantom of the Opera."

The toad gives Pennington a serious look, though it is hard to tell if he admires Pennington for his determination or finds him crazy.

Pennington sighs heavily, looking towards the crowd of people enter the opera for the auction. Not even taking the time to think about what they were really doing.

"...You know, you could buy something from the auction for your story," the toad finally mentions. "It may not be what you're looking for exactly, but it should help."

Pennington stares at the building, not even bothering to look at the toad.

How...how could anyone want to destroy this place?

With another heavy sigh, he thanks the toad and then walks into the opera. Dust covers the entire interior, once golden statures now rusted away from weather as snow enters the building from the holes in the roof. It is extremely cold inside, making Pennington shiver as his blue penguin feathers frill up.

Walking a bit, he finds the entrance to the auditorium, people gathering inside for the auction. Pennington looks inside, gasping as he saw that in the middle of the auditorium seating, there was a giant hole. The chairs had all been burnt badly, barely holding themselves together. Some of the people had to sit on the floor as they listen at the auction, because of the poor conditions.

But what catches Pennington's eye to the most is the giant chandelier that is on the huge stage, along with the other treasures ready to sold. It is made of pure crystals, though most of it shattered or gone from age, it still looks impressive. He imagines it back in the glory days of the opera, when the whole opera was in working order. It would have been a beautiful sight, the whole opera would.

"Having a good time?"

Pennington jumps as an old woman approaches him. She gives a friendly smile.

"I'm sorry if I startled you," the woman says. "But I couldn't help but notice that you were looking around the opera."

"Oh, well, I..."

Pennington stutters a little, as he tries to explain himself. The old woman chuckles softly.

"Don't worry, there's nothing wrong with that. In fact, I'm happy that you are looking around the opera, and not avoiding it like most people here do."

"Well, it is good to appreciate history," Pennington replies. "Even how dark it is, we must always learn and know the stories of the past. And solve their mysteries."

"I completely agree with you. I hate the princess's idea of destroying the opera. What needs to be done is that the opera gets revised and turns into a museum. Not be physically destroyed, hoping people will forget what happened."

The woman sighs.

"But, sadly, it will never happen. The toads here are too much afraid of what happened so long ago. For tragedy happened on a December day just like this. A tragedy, no matter how hard people try to forget, will always linger in the back of our minds. For they think if they remember, the believe he will come back and terrorize us once again."

"He...you mean the Phantom of the Opera?"

The woman nods her head. There is a long silence, as the old woman looks off into the distance, clearly deep in thought. Pennington gives her a sympathetic look.

"Well...if you want people to except what happened, I am doing a story on the Mushroom Kingdom Opera. My name is Pennington, a reporter for Poshly Heights news."

"'Poshly Heights?' the old woman exclaimed shocked. "You mean the town where the aristocrats live?"

Pennington nods.

The woman stares at him for a long moment. Suddenly, a large smile appears across aged her face, her green eyes glowing with hope.

"...If you, my young friend, could get the aristocrats to learn the story of the opera, if you could tell people the truth..."

She mumbles to herself a little, and Pennington gives a confused look. The old woman then walks towards one of the hallways.

"Come," she orders. "I want to show you something."

Pennington stares at the woman as she walks further and further down the half burnt hall.

What does she want him to see, should he trust her? What if she turns out to be a waste of time, and by the time Pennington gets free of her, the auction will be closed and he will have no proof, no story?

"Hey, dummy, are you coming?"

Pennington is tossed out of his thoughts as the old woman waits for him, looking a bit impatient. Having no other choice, Pennington follows her. They walk in silence down the hallway, old wooden doors leading to several rooms.

"Where are we?" Pennington asks as he looks around curiously.

"We are heading to the dressing rooms," the old woman answers. "This is where the opera singers would get ready to perform and practice their singing privately."

"I see...though, why go back here?"

The old woman smiles.

"You will see. Just be patient."

Pennington rolls his eyes.

At this rate I'm not going to get anywhere!

"Here we are."

At the end of the hallway, on the room furthest to the left, the old woman delicately opens the door. They step inside, Pennington's eyes widening at how beautiful the room is. Even though it is covered in dust and cobwebs, the red walls still have a bright color to them and the golden furniture is still in great condition. Pennington walks up to a huge full body mirror, clearing the dust with his hand as he sees his reflection. Not even a crack on the glass, this room suffered the least of the tragedy.

"This is a beautiful room," Pennington says in awe. "I appreciate it that you brought me here. But, I still don't understand why you did."

The old woman smiles as she closes the door, one hand behind her back.

"I know, but if I wanted the story to have a full effect, you needed to be here. For you see, this was her dressing room."

Pennington stares at the old woman.

"...You mean, the famous opera singer Timpani? The one who mysteriously disappeared?"

The old woman nods.

"Yes. She disappeared on the night of the tragedy to be exact. For it was her that caused it to happened."

Pennington gives a blank stare. The woman laughs.

"I see that I have left you clueless. But before I give you my explanation, I want to show you this."

She then reveals her hidden hand to see she is holding an old mask. Pennington takes it. It is a mask that completely hides a man's face, only able to see their eyes and mouth. It is black on the right side and half white on the left. The black and white paint has chipped away from age, but it is still in good condition for the most part, defiantly worth a fortune.

"What you are holding right there," the old woman says. "Is the original mask that the Phantom wore."

Pennington gasps and looks up at the woman in shock.

"But...if this is his mask...why have you hidden it for so long?"

The old woman gave a sad look.

"Because, if I hadn't, it would just have been sold off as an antique, not an artifact of history. No one could handle the story behind that mask if I told it, and I have been waiting for someone that could. And I believe that you are the only one who can."

Pennington met the old woman's eyes, which are filled with grief and solemnity. He knows, for certain, that this old woman is the key to his story, the key to learning the truth.

"Sit down, my friend," the old woman says as she and Pennington sit down on the old bed. "For I am about to tell you the story that no one has heard for a long time and has been mostly forgotten. The real reason why the tragedy happened, the real reason why the singer Timpani disappeared, the real explanation of the dark, blood filled rumors. This, Pennington, is the true tale of the Phantom of the Opera."