Preview of the new write

Prologue Zero
It was the end of the war, and despite the competition of the celluloid film, but there was a need to feel close to the real person that stood on the stage. So then birth a new opera house, named simply the word that was known by most for its fine culture; the Paris Scene House. It was to mesmerized the theatre goers to full nights of its screening with the array of great actors and composers accompanied by the fifty orchestra piece. All of its thirteen private boxes were booked in advance with a longer waiting list for its open seating. Nobles and royalty once graced its corridors, but after a decade of the grandeur, the place soon came to its end. 
The main star of the house died when the chandelier from the ceiling fell on her during her play. She was killed instantly but the scream of the patrons was overshadowed by the scream of one who sat at the private box #5; a long devoted fan of her. The fan stopped up and later collapsed on the flooring to breathe last soon after.

After that, the House was closed for the investigation on the cause of the incident, but during that two weeks of investigation, there was more mayhem. The other actors found their costumes damaged with cuts and tears, while the orchestra pieces were dented or cracked with force. There were others which caused bodily injuries but they were not fatal; more of inconvenience like the missing plank in the floor boarding when the dancers stepped in it.

It was then the rumors went around, the play was cursed, but soon it became more of the place was cursed. The rumors went like wildfire from the foundation of the place was once a cemetery to that of a killing ground. The rumors spread fast among the actors and no one wanted to be part of it. After a six months of trying to revive the place, the owners and management decided to close the House. 

There ended the Paris Scene House on the night April 11 of 1963. Its walls silenced with the final latching of the locks. 

Act 1 Scene 1
"The Opera Opens once again. The curse would strike again." That was written on the walls of the old opera building. It was etched in the color of red, and streaked like the sight of the blood splutter from the freshly cut wound. It was wet and must had been done prior to their arrival that morning in April 11, 2013.
"Its bold, my dear brother." The young man in the denims who stood there at the entrance of the sealed doorway of the building spoke. "I like it."

"Too dramatic for me." The other man in the business suit replied. "I am irritated that the news traveled faster than the wind here."

"The musical people are a close knitted group; they are close ...." The one in the denim added on. 
"As we are, Philippe." The one in the business suit continue for his brother. "Perhaps we are in the right investment." 
"Come on, Raoul. You brought me this ..." Philippe the one with the business acumen smiled.

"Hideous? Let me complete your words. You still hold on that, and yet you stand with me here." Raoul, the carefree one told his brother.
"Yes, we are family, and above all, we are the Chagny. With blood that flowed in our veins, we cannot deny our heritage and above all, our love for each other." 
"May our investment continued our ....love." Raoul added on cynically. He knew that the money that the family holds was one reason they are here; the last two surviving siblings of the Chagny. 
"Okay, enough of the theatrics. Let me see where our latest venture had led us to." Philippe grew tired of standing idle, looked to his personal aide. "Open the door, Micheal." 

Micheal stepped forth but he found the locks had been replaced with a new set. He tried the different sets of keys and finally gave up. He turned to his employer and shook his head. Philippe was to stepped forth, when his path was stopped by homeless dressed man wielding a hammer. 

"Step not another foot, you scoundrels." The man dressed in those sewn rags showed his protest with the hammering tool. "This place is cursed. It never could be open again. It ought to be torn down and covered with concrete...."
The man never got to complete his short protest when he was taken down by Micheal who did his part as the personal aide. The homeless man however managed to jab the hammer into Micheal face causing his face to bleed. The blood from the broken nose and left cheek flowed onto the pavement, and seeped into the cracks.

"The blood feeds again." The homeless man shrieked out in fright. "No! It must be stopped."

The homeless man was not able to stop that while other aides who accompanied the Chagny assisted to subdue the man. He was led away while his hammer lies on the pavement. Philippe looked to Raoul, and asked. 
"Dramatic? So what's next? A parade of ostriches and giraffes?" Philippe asked in a mocking tone.
"Probably a disgruntled actor. Nothing to worry on." Raoul seized the situation. He took up the hammer and broke the locks.

"Welcome to very own Opera House." Raoul declared when he pushed the main door of the seventy years old building. On opening the doorway, he saw the small monkey drummer there on the floor. It was a about six inches in height with its stance of holding the drum while standing in the parade line. It reminded him of his own train set when he was younger.
"Well, if we can't open this place, we could sell the antiques here." Raoul picked up the toy and smiled. "I am sure the Devil would find much to pick from here." 

Raoul took to wind up the monkey drummer and wind up the key behind its back. It started to play the drum as it probably did sixty years ago. While it was drumming its legs would move as if it was marching.
"I can agreed to that. There are always our souls the Devil could pick." Philippe replied. He sighed as what insanity made him invest in this God forsaken place.