Phantom Of The Opera Book Novels & Stories

Professor Howl barely managed to keep his crystal ball from rolling off the crowded table without breaking his concentration. Principal Rapport, with a wave of his hands, the two cloaked people turned and left the room. Principal Rapport’s eyes were back to normal as he went toward the round table and unclasped the bindings that kept the book closed. He hovered his hand over the leather cover, never breaking his eyes from it. “Carmilla Opun,” He spoke, and the book flew open, pages rustling as it skimmed the entire book before stopping on a single page. The name Carmilla Opun glowed gold against the aged parchment.

They'd been bickering for an hour about who. "You really like that book, huh?" Xavier raised a teasing brow. I stuck my tongue at him. "If you must know, Mr Nosey," he gave me a playful scowl. "I love old books, Frankenstein and Dracula were some of my favorites, as well as the Brothers Grimm and Phantom of the Opera." Theo gave a confused look. "The Phantom is a book?" I laughed, grabbing my bag and finding the tattered paperback, the spine on it worn and the book folded easily from overreading.

Ace asked and Phoebe placed her fingers under her chin like she was in a deep thought. "24" Phoebe chose some random numbers. "Give me a book," Ace said, and Phoebe gave it _ to him; immediately, it was right on Ace's hand; he caressed the book like he was trying to check whether it was a book Phoebe gave him. Ace placed it on the table in front of him. "I am blind, so my calculations might go past the lines, " Ace said and started solving the mathematics; though he was blind, his calculations in the book weren't as rough as she expected them to be.

Without hesitation, I opened the book to the first page. The pafes were filled with elegent handwritings, seemingly written. As I leaf through the pages, o realized that it's not just any ordinary book and it made me wonder because it looked so weird. There was absolutely no picture at the front, neither was there a name that identified the author who wrote the book. Was this the book we were searching for? Why was it in Cassandra's room? Had she been pretending all along that this book was yet to be found? I felt a breeze coming from no where as I looked into the book, till I opened a page and saw a note inside. I took it and opened it. 'If anybody sees this book except the one who is chose

“Cara...” A low velvety voice echoed in a hush. My phantom moved closer to me from across the dim room, walking with a such regal bearing that its presence overwhelms me to the point of suffocation, stifling and bursting me into flames. Yet, at the very same time a kind of air I longed to breathe. To inhale and fill my lungs with his manly scent. I should be frightened after what happened. I should be wary of his presence and call the cops immediately. He could be a psychopath, a murderer, and an obsessed stalker.

I NEED to know who he is, and something tells me I won’t discover much if I approach him as Phantom Reaper. I don’t really even know who I actually am, to be honest. I never indulged in friendships or relationships with others. It’s just always been survival. The only person I had any kind of positive relationship was my mother. I don’t know my father but because of my hair color, I’m fairly certain my father was Christian Bartoa. I know he frequented the slave cells whenever he was bored, and the urge arises so it doesn’t surprise me, but I don’t intend to ever claim him nor carry his surname. The thought of actually SPEAKING to Damien makes me feel a weird sense of anxiety. I’m unsure if i

Zora held it out to me, "this belongs to you." I gingerly held the book between my fingers in fear it would disintegrate to ash if I was too rough. The leather on this book had been embroidered with purple thread—the image of a howling wolf's head being formed. If I listened closely enough, I could make out faint whispers coming from the book—a cacophony of different sounds urging me to do one thing: open the book. "The wings called to him the way the wolf calls to you," Zora explained. She moved to exit the room with one last statement, "Only one person would make a better queen than you and when it comes time for them to rule, you will be proud."

ROSALINE “Tanti auguri a te. Tanti auguri a te,” the entire room sang cheerfully while Fabiola stood in the centre, under the grand chandelier, in her red glittering ball gown. “Tanti auguri, dear Fabiola. Tanti auguri a te.”

She turned toward him equally smiling. "A moment." Her fingers touched the spine of a black book resting upon the shelf, Immediately the room grew colder. The candle flames stretched unnaturally and shadows deepened. The rogue's smile faded. "What is that?" Delilah's eyes glowed faintly. "It is power." For the first time, uncertainty entered his expression. The book suddenly opened by itself, and it's pages flipped wildly as usual. Then the chamber fiiled with hundreds of voices speaking at once. The rogue stepped backward.

It was a time for completing projects, doing homework and the likes. I went inside the library in hopes to see a book that I can read to past my time. As I sat down on one table in a corner, I opened the book I got from the shelf. It's title is "After the Stage Ends". The story is about a group of opera actors. The female actress fell in love with her co-actor, the main lead of their play. However, after the curtain falls and the play ended, she found out that her co-actor is in love with the girl in their opera group who is playing a side character role.