#phantom!ghost x reader

When you think about the masked man or Ghost, as he is fearfully referred to as, you can’t bring yourself to be scared of him or feel any hostility towards him as you once were when you first noticed him watching you. Now, you even begin to refer to him as your guardian angel, making you feel safe and protected, knowing that he is always there looking out for you. It all started when he would leave you small red roses with a black ribbon tied around the stem and a small wax skull in the center of your room after particularly rough days, sometimes even leaving food with it when you accidentally end up missing dinner because of dance practice taking longer. 

Some of the other dancers are scared of you, now thinking that you are in cohorts with the supposed Ghost and will incur his wrath if they are seen talking to you. It doesn’t bother you that they all leave you alone now because they were never really the best company to keep around anyways, always getting into trouble trying to sabotage one another for the leading roles in performances besides, you have found friendship with two of the stagehands.

Today, something was different; there had been a strange gut feeling that something bad was going to happen today ever since you woke up, causing you to be more on edge. As you stand in the practice room alone, trying to perfect the newest choreography, the door slams open, causing you to jump in surprise. You turn around to see the newest stagehand smiling creepily at you. You hear your friends talk about him, and they have nothing good to say about him. The door clicks into place behind him, breaking you out of your thoughts as he walks to where you stand in front of the mirror. 

Taking a step back as he approaches fearfully, you ask, “What are you doing?” 

He lets out a deep chuckle, eyeing you up and down, “ I just wanted to introduce myself to you; I have seen you around and thought that we should get to know each other better.” He reaches his hand up, resting his hand around your neck and rubbing his thumb against the side of your neck. 

You let out a panicked sound, ripping the man's hand away from around your neck and stepping away from him, “What are you doing!?”  you shout as you make your way towards the door, but not putting your back towards him in fear for what might happen if you do. 

He lunged forward harshly, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into him, trapping you in his grasp. “Relax, you might end up liking it. You never know.” he sneered before. His heavy breathing fanning over your face, making you recoil in disgust, trying to free yourself from his arms. You begin screaming at the top of your lungs for help, hoping that someone will hear you and come to your rescue. 

 Loud bangs erupted from behind the mirror, and the sound of glass shattering echoed in the room. The man holding you throws you to the side, causing you to lose your balance, falling to the floor and smacking your head against the ground. At the harsh impact, black dots begin to swarm your vision; the last thing you hear as you succumb to the darkness is the thudding of heavy hits like someone was fighting. 

From the darkness, your Ghost had emerged when he heard your desperate screams for help. He had left you alone in the practice room for no longer than five minutes so that he would be able to leave a rose in your room like always, but this time, as he approached the practice room, instead of hearing you dancing around the room, he heard the sounds of your cries for help. Sending fear and anger throughout his body, without even thinking, Ghost threw himself into the two-way mirror, shattering it into a million pieces. At the sight of him emerging from behind the mirror, the man who held you captive threw your body to the ground as Ghost grabbed the man, unleashing punch after punch. The pathetic man tried fighting back, but it was no use; he didn’t stand a chance against the Ghost. 

After a couple of heavy hits, the man lays limp at Ghost's feet; whether he is dead or alive does not matter to him at all. The only thing on his mind was you. He walks over to you, carefully lifting your unconscious body into his arms, checking for injuries, and finding nothing too serious. He stands, cradling you to his chest, walking back to the gaping hole in the mirror. 

Reaching his liar hidden deep beneath the Opera House, Ghost gently places you down on his bed, whispering to your unconscious form, “Don’t worry, no one will ever hurt you again.” 

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-

Price, the owner of the Opera House, lets out a deep sigh at the letter from Ghost in his hands. He lits up a cigar, letting out a puff of smoke before standing and beginning to make his way to the practice dance room, muttering curses under his breath at another mess he has to clean up.

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