Erik couldn't sleep. He tossed and turned as much as he could in his coffin bed as his mind swam with thoughts and ideas. And no matter what he did he couldn't quiet them. At this rate he wouldn't sleep for days.
It was hard being a genius. He was busy plotting out every little detail for his upcoming opera: "Don Juan Triumphant". Those managers were hopeless, they could never see his true vision.
His Christine would be stunning as Aminta, of that he was sure. Hopefully she could be convinced to play the role; as it would be the peak of her career. He could clearly see her on the stage singing the words he had written.
She would sing his opera, feel his music enveloping her, bringing her closer into his world. His words would be like a trance, calling Christine to his side with the subtle hypnosis in the music and lyrics.
All he needed to do was get rid of Piangi. He'd take the place of the tenor and when he and Christine sang together… The spell would be complete. Their voices, their souls, would be one and the same. And in that moment of transcendence she would forget all about everything else.
Throwing the covers back, Erik got out of bed and began to prowl around his bedroom. The only sound was the rustling of his black silk pajamas (did they really think because he slept in a coffin he wore formal theatre tails and a top hat when he slept; laid out for his funeral?) Damn it all to hell, he hated insomnia! It made him think of all the ridiculous notations people had about him. He'd never get anything done if this lack of sleep continued.
What did normal people do when they needed sleep?
Count sheep!
It was a strange thought, but Christine had told him it was soothing. "Picture a pasture of green grass dotted with flowers and a fence in the middle. The sheep line up and jump over the fence. Something in the counting eases the mind."
As another thought struck Erik he began to laugh. Who needed barnyard animals when he had a theatre full of people he could manipulate to do his bidding? Oh how amusing that thought was!
He could clearly see Andre and Firmim, in sheep costumes, falling over each other to accommodate his bizarre request. Erik roared with laughter as he pictured Carlotta. She wouldn't be able to clear a fence if she tried. She'd jump and get her gown stuck. She'd dangle there, screaming for someone to end her humiliation.
Then it hit him: the ballet girls! Pretty, young girls in their perfect white tutus jumping and pirouetting across the stage for his pleasure. He could count those beauties all night. Content with his decision, Erik left his lair for the above ground section of the theatre. Wouldn't Little Giry be shocked when he roused her from sleep?