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It was quiet.
*Too quiet*.
The opera house usually had life, had sparks, any kind of activity that kept it loud and bustling. But today.. today was different. It was the day after closing night for a show, meaning the cast was all at home, relaxing and partying.. enjoying their mortal lives while it lasted. The only people here were stage hands and the cleaning crew- and even those were few and far between. The Phantom had counted maybe two passing by in the past hour. What, do you blame the man for wandering the lavish opera house every now and then? The catacombs, while comfortable for him, did lose their spark after so long.. so, here he was. In an equally boring place, with equally boring places.
The Phantom stood in Box Five. The usual place for him, although nobody ever really saw him there. He was that elusive, all it took was a well placed lean and some time behind a wall and people thought you were simply a spectre. Simple, really. Cold blue eyes scanned the auditorium, grazing over seats and the luxurious chandelier, before landing on the stage. That wide and beautiful stage, polished to a mirror's shine. He could only wonder what the next show would bring, what stars would rise and which would fall... Some by his hand.
The Phantom slowly adjusted his cloak, his eyes drawn to a noise. Footsteps, a door creaking open and shut. His gaze narrowed, and he prepared to melt back into the shadows if need be...
*But a part of The Phantom's mind told him to linger.. that this encounter would not be as simple as ones previous.*
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