Already I am anxious.

Night has yet to fall in which I shall use the shadows to make my way into the opera house, and investigate for myself the house of music.

I'm not sure the posture I shall bring into the presence of a decrepit opera house in the middle of the night with a ghost story in my subconscious. Whatever I am to bring, it will determine the progress of my investigation.

While I still have the gift of daylight, I am making use of my time to prepare for any means of unforeseen conjuncture: flashlight, matches, camera, my journal, the original, an extra notepad, the mask wrapped carefully in a cloth, food, gloves and a dagger for extra precautions. Knowing this is in my possession has only proven my false security of having a stable mind through the whole of this.

Nonetheless, one can never be too careful.

My goal for the night is to find any evidence of my grand' mere amidst this opera, perhaps find any remains of this musical carved into her statue, "Don Juan Triumphant", as well as her dressing room and possibly, the passage to the phantom's lair.

Though the night only lasts so long. My concealment is limited, so I must salvage the mystery and extend it as needed.

"And what is Miss Sherlock up to tonight?" my grand' mere walks in.

My thoughts seemed to have slipped in regards to sneaking past my grand' mere. "Um... just a stroll. That's all."

She nodded knowing otherwise. "Beware. He is one with the night."

With that said, she tosses me a cross pendant attached to a golden chain before disappearing down the hall. I have a feeling the night she refers to holds an entirely different meaning than the mere time of day.

I'm not one to fear the night, as my grand' mere refers to it, but something tells me this is bigger than I believe.

The cross lays still in the palm of my hand, pulsing as if in warning of what is to come, knowing my intentions, and the consequences that will come of them. I have always known the Lord, never being ashamed to know Him, connected to His Word, but never have I faced the enemy that fell from heaven.

Perhaps... this is my calling...

Whatever the case, I only hope this turns out for the glory of the Father, and my head still sitting squarely on my shoulders.

And my sanity remains intact...

...

My day is not put to waste as I wander up and down the street of the opera house.

It's a wonder all its own how this magnificent structure has been able to withstand the weight of age, to remain in its grandeur, and outwit the age of time.

A miracle all it's own.

Out in front is a grand courtyard with a set of steps and the doors themselves boarded off of entry. Many of the windows are coated in ash from the fire years ago, broken and shattered, but still boarded up. Debris has littered the perimeter with pieces of the building, rocks still stained with burns, dust coating the ground.

I remembered reading of a stable around the back of the opera house that was used to tend to the horses, and where my great grand' mere would go to request transport of a carriage. It is possible to find entry through that way, provided the chance no one considered that to be a possibility.

However, what I have come to notice throughout my observation how poorly the opera house is closed off as if whoever was trying to close it off made a poorly rushed effort to do so.

This has enhanced my curiosity all the more.

Even along the streets, people seem to avoid this treasure, as if subconsciously making an effort to create as much distance as possible. Not a glance is given, nor a thought, almost an unconscious fear.

"What hold has this curse taken on the city?" I write in my journal.

Night has fallen at last and the streets have slowly begun to clear.

Now is the time to make my move.

I casually stroll to the other side of the street towards the opera residence, carrying a curious stride as I creep closer. The pendant resting on my chest begins to pulse, but a thick presence becomes vibrant the closer I merge into the property of the phantom.

My own heartbeat feels numb, overcrowded by this dark presence, and the pulsing of my cross pendant. I feel pressured on both sides either to run or move forward as if battling for my actions.

Nonetheless I am moving forward.

Stepping onto the edge of the courtyard is almost suffocating, feeling the bind of this dark presence surrounding me.

I pause a moment, fighting to catch my breath so I may move forward with this mission. Already I know this is not some break-in and salvage, but something bigger than I am able to understand.

As the night grows thicker I trek forward with a cautious stance, crossing the courtyard towards the steps leading to the main entrance.

Of course it is boarded up, though not very well, it could withstand a hard blow. My throbbing shoulder may thank me for that discovery.

Unfortunately a diminutive stature, such as mine, would require a great amount of effort to remove these boards, causing a ruckus and unwanted attention. If I am to make a noise of any kind, it must be out of sight, or untraceable.

"Alright... I'll try around the back."

After checking for any officers or onlookers, I saunter about the side of the opera house, up a path that opened towards the street. Following it to the back leads me to a rotted iron gate, allowing me access beyond its fence through a gap in the side.

Just to the right I come upon a series of empty stables, littered with broken-down gates and rafters. The wood has rotted to mere stumps, looking to crumble by mere touch. An old carriage sits in the corner with the roof caved in, the door off its hinges, wheels broken off, or broken all themselves.

On the back wall of one stall, there hung a rusted horseshoe upside down.

There is no shock in this discovery, considering my current setting, however, I am void of knowledge as to why such a spectacle should exist. I am near tempted to retrieve it for observation.

A series of short steps rushes me to concealment under a pile of debris, keeping watch for any sign of life.

On the wall I notice a shadow belonging to these footsteps, now more carefully placed. It didn't resemble the figure of any law enforcement, perhaps a nosy tourist or a landlord. Whatever the case I wasn't too keen on finding out.

I lay against the ground, peeking out from under my shelter, when I heard him slip with his shadow, and dash out the other way.

Now I really have to make my move.

Night is falling faster than ever, and if I am being followed, time is of the essence.

Between the sets of stalls I notice a large door opening, caved in with debris and the doors completely shredded.

"At last..." I sigh.

It will be some work before I am able to make any sort of entrance, but seeing as I am low on options, this is my best choice.

As I start to climb towards the top of the rubble, there is a soft chill breezing through small crevices, causing my hair to stand on end. I start with some of the smaller pieces up top, pushing them back towards the other side, slowly making progress as it crumbles into the structure.

Pushing another large chunk, I am taken by surprise as a great gust of dust bursts through the opening, nearly knocking me back as it carries into the stable area.

It almost seems to hiss, warning one to either turn back now, or enter at your own risk.

"Definitely not normal," I mutter.

Above the door, I grab what is left of the ledge above it, take a grip, and kick in what is left to get enough of a crawlspace for access. A few good kicks have me crawling through and sliding down into terribly cold space. It is too dark to tell where I am, but the congested air certainly creates a challenge to breathe.

"Well... this is... a fine start..."

I crouch down and dig through my bag, feeling for my light, reaching it, at last, only to shine it on a pack of large rats.

"AH!"

They scurry out of sight, leaving me alone in the dark. I only hope the sight of their incredible teeth will not leave me scarred for much longer.

All around me I am surrounded by the ruins of a once majestic palace of music, now scorned with ash from the burn of flames, draped with webs, coated with ash and infested with creatures that have no place in this monument. Once beaming with lights, now consumed with darkness and overrun by the burden of age.

Somehow... not just by mere interior... it holds a haunting presence.

"Well then... let us begin..."