Request for Detective_Sociopath. My apologies for taking a while, but sometimes with new characters, inspiration can take a little longer. I hope you all enjoy

Erik looked up suddenly, as the sound of a beautiful voice drifted through the vast expanse of the subterranean depths that lay below the old opera house, to his lair. The masked man not sure that the angelic noise could be real, as the dulcet tone continued to softly sing the words of an aria that he knew so well.

The opera house had been quiet for so long. Since he had let Christine leave with Raoul, his world had been bereft of music. Bereft of joy, life and love. The Phantom having little more than a golden engagement ring to remind him of what could have been. Erik sure that he would never hear the voice of another person again. Would never be given a chance at the love he craved so deeply. Yet there it was. A voice. The Phantom hoping that he wasn't hearing things. That God wasn't punishing him for all his transgressions, by haunting him with the singing. The breathtaking sound, seeming to get purer, sweeter with every word that was sung. In every utterance, he could hear the sound of joy. Love. His eyes closing, as his favourite part of the aria filled his heart. Erik sure that it had never beaten like that before. Not even with Christine. The heavy thump, the only thing making the Phantom believe that he had not just died. And that the voice was not a part of some heavenly choir.

How he wished that he could listen to the melodious sound for the rest of his life. How he wished that he could drown in it. Be soothed by it as he drifted off to sleep. And when the devil finally took his soul, he hoped that this voice would be the last thing that he heard.

"(Y/n)!? Where are you? Where is that girl?" A shrill voice called out. Erik shuddering at the hideous sound that invaded his space. The Phantom angered that the mystery woman's intrusion, had stopped the song of his angel.

"I'm here mama. Papa said that it would be alright for me to explore." A softer, feminine voice replied to the shrill shrew's shriek. Erik not sure which was better, the sound of her song or her sweet speaking voice.

"That may be the case, young lady. But I do wish that you would be more careful. Your father has bought this old place, yet there is still much to do to it. Some places may not be safe. And then there is still so much more to do before you can finally take the stage. But when that day does comes, not only will all of Paris fall in love with my beautiful daughter, but the whole of France too. So I don't want you to get hurt." The older woman replied. The Phantom jumping to his feet as he heard the words.

The opera house had been bought. It would be rebuilt. Refurbished? The building and his life would once again be filled with song? Her song? Erik knew now that he had to see more. He had to make his way back up into the grand old building that held so many memories. He had to see the face of this angel, this siren. The siren of the opera.

"I know mama, but I am perfectly capable of looking after myself. And papa said that it was safe for me to go backstage and see the old dressing rooms. Please mama, it is so beautiful here. I went to see it in all its old glory, before it changes forever. I promise I will be careful." The sweet voice of (Y/n) beseeched. Erik quickly making his way up through the labyrinth, hoping to get to the backstage area before (Y/n) found her way there.

"Very well. But remember that we have a lunch appointment with Monsieur de Riche. He is very anxious to meet you. And if we impress him today, your father believes that he will back the first performance when the opera house reopens." (Y/n)'s mother explained. Erik hoping that the older woman would not follow her daughter on her search of the old building.

"How could I forget? You have been reminding me every day for the last two weeks, mama. I promise I will not forget. I promise that I won't get dirty. And I promise that I will be careful." (Y/n) told her mother. Erik finding himself smiling at the confident, happy sound of his siren's retort. The desire to see her face, to hear her song again, growing within him, as he expertly navigated his way to the back area of the theatre.

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"How could I forget? You have been reminding me every day for the last two weeks, mama. I promise I will not forget. I promise that I won't get dirty. And I promise that I will be careful." (Y/n) told her mother. Kissing her on the cheek before quickly turning and making her way further into the old building, before her mother could change her mind.

Ever since she had been young, she had wanted to be here. She had wanted to sing in the great old opera house. To perform in front of a sea of admiring faces. But she never thought that her dream would come true. Never believed that one day she could have the opportunity to step foot on the famous stage of the Palais Garnier Opera House. Yet here she was.

(Y/n) and her parents were not originally from Paris. Her family were merchants, their wealth coming from trade across the sea. But now, her father dabbled in banking and the railways, the old man moving his family to Paris in hopes of not only finding her a suitable husband, but also helping to fulfill his daughter's dream. To allow the great and good of the capital to hear the voice of his only child. So, he had purchased the opera house, determined to bring it back to its former glory. To once again fill it with light and music.

Carefully, (Y/n) made her way up a small flight of wooden steps that led to the back area of the theatre. The young woman coughing slightly as she pushed her way past the heavy, tattered curtain. To most, the theatre would look like it had seen better days. But to (Y/n), it was the most wonderful place in the world. Her eyes not noticing the dust and the cobwebs. Not noticing the chipped and peeling paint. All she saw was the beauty. The wonders of it all filling her mind, as she opened the door to one of the dressing rooms. Her eyes growing wide as she saw a rack groaning under the weight of some old costumes. The outfits dirty from all the dust, and nibbled by the mice and rats that had taken up residence, but still, they spoke to her of all the people that had performed here. Of all the people that had worn them. Of how she might be able to wear something similar as stepped foot on the stage.

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Erik watched from the shadows of one of his secret entrances to the dressing rooms. His eyes wide. His heart beating so violently that he was sure that his siren must be able to hear it. It was true to say that Christine had been beautiful. Yet what stood before him was a vision. Exquisite, not only in voice, but also in appearance. (Y/n) proving to be more than he could ever have expected.

He couldn't help but smile as he watched her make her way over to the rack of old costumes that hung gathering dust. The young woman carefully pushing the one or two, not so nervous mice, out of the way with her foot, as she took the sleeve of one of the elaborate gowns into her hand. Her fingers brushing over the soft silken material. Her smile enticing the Phantom to move a little more into the open. The sudden creak of a floorboard under his foot, causing (Y/n) to spin around.

"Hello?! Is there someone there?"