Disclaimer: Once again...Grg, I don't own Phantom of the Opera

O.O Wow...O.O I didn't expect such a good response... yes, I thought a sugar-high Erik would be a funny idea so I just started writing it for fun.

AND OUR FIRST VICTIM IS...

(warning: Carlotta bashing)


Erik's POV

Muwahaha!

Inspiration: you are my favorite lover! At last, a way to set that detestable woman in her place! I don't know what it is about Carlotta that annoys the crap outta me, BUT IT WORKS! Must be the way she struts around, Prima Dona we all know she is, like she owns the freaking place! IT'S MY OPERA HOUSE DAMN IT!

But, I at least have thought of a way to scare her right out of that too-tight corset of hers. No wonder she can't sing well with that thing on, it probably blocks the air passage and...she's so fat after all! It must be a horrible burden. However, I will so relieve her of said burden. MY MASTER PLAN WILL GO INTO EFFECT AT REHERSALS THIS AFTERNOON! Carlotta wants so much attention, eh? Well, she'll be getting a lot of it after this!

But first: supplies! I need rope, a...a...Ah crud, what do you call those things that hang above the stage again? I ALWAYS FORGET! CRAP! Whatever they're called, I'll be using one in my little plan.

Heh-heh-heh-heh.

Regular POV

Madam G. walked around in a frenzy trying to find Erik. He was loose and hopped up on sugar and this could not bode well for anyone within the opera house.

"Vicomte," she panted, crossing Raoul in the hallway. "Have you seen him?"

"You mean Erik?"

"No, I mean the ghost of Napoleon! WHO DO YOU THINK BOY! Now tell me if you've seen him or not!" Nowadays, we would say that the dear Vicomte did something along the lines of OO at the shouting of the usually very calm Madam G.

"Has...something happened madam? And please don't yell at me." Madam G. took a deep breath, rubbing her head as though in pain.

"I think I may have made a horrible mistake," she said, trying to remain calm, though she was anxious to find her sugar-intolerant friend and get him underground where there would be no injuries. Raoul gave her a concerned look.

"How so madam?" She sighed.

"I gave him pure sugar." Once again, I'll bring up the idea of Raoul doing this: OO

"You did what!", he said, obviously more then a little concerned at the prospect of a sugar high phantom running about.

"I know, I know, it was foolish. He obviously can't hold his sweets," Madam G. said, folding her arms. "Point is, I'm very worried. He has it in for a lot of people here. You being one of them." The vicomte went visibly pale, his mouth barely a thin line. He hadn't known whether or not the famed O.G. was still angry at him for the whole Christine thing. Apparently the guess was very much right and he now had a sugar-high maniac on the loose. All in all, it wasn't that calming of an equation.

"I'm dead," he said finally. "I'm gonna die in the freaking night."

"NOT if we find him monsieur," Madam G. pointed out. Raoul nodded, acknowledging this idea as a quite good one.

"Right then. Now think...who is he gonna go after first?" It didn't take long for both to snap their fingers and look at each other in mutual knowing.

"Carlotta," they said in unison. Within mere seconds, they plugged their ears and made way to the stage. Rehearsals were still going strong and, unfortunately, so was Carlotta's voice. It echoed through the halls and rooms like the cry of a banshee that wouldn't shut up until the person who's death it had come to foretell put a bullet in their brain just to put an end to the screeching.

That was a very good analogy for Carlotta...

And a horrifically accurate one. As the Vicomte and Madam G. finally got to the stage, they could not have guessed who currently stood above them on one of the swinging...things.

"Signora," the vicomte started to say, getting abruptly cut off by a particularly loud and high note coming out of Carlotta's over-lipped mouth. He mad a face, as though straining not to put his hands to his ears to save himself some a severely busted ear drum.

When at last she was finished, the vicomte was allowed to continue.

"Signora," he said. "I'm afraid you might be in a good teal of danger." Carlotta gave him a confused look, combined with a slightly pouted lip. "You see...I have strong reason to believe that our beloved Opera Ghost is going on a sugarcoated rampage." This just earned more stares from the other dancers around him. He sighed and held his head. "I'll explain later, but we must get you out of here, lest you fall prey to some horrible prank."

Too little, too late I'm afraid.

A can of red paint promptly fell on the soprano's head, drenching her in it. She screamed loudly, tensing up and her face clenching like when a cat is about to lunge at some unsuspecting fool. A tirade of screaming followed, some of it in an understandable language but most of it in Italian so that no one knew what she was screaming at them. Many of the people around snickered behind their hands like they had when Carlotta lost her voice, again courtesy of Erik.

And as if the paint weren't enough, not many saw it, but a small hook on a long piece of strong thread was slowly creeping down toward the stage. Carefully, and with practiced skill, it hooked under the hem of Carlotta's costume. One final tug back upward and...

THUMP!

Carlotta fell face forward, her dress going up over her head, and more screams coming out of her throat in mostly Italian. The snickers broke out into full-blown laughter at the Phantom's newest tactics. Childish though they were, they were funny as anything. What the people did notice was three little notes, sealed with a bright red skull drifting down. Raoul caught one, Madam G. another, and Meg, who had been one of the ballerinas dancing caught the last one.

"After you Vicomte," Madam G. instructed. Raoul quickly opened the letter and proceeded to read it aloud.


'Dear Madam Giry, My Beloved Vicomte, and any they read this note to,

HA! I STRIKE AGAIN! I am going on a revenge spree on all you suckers! You don't know when and you don't know how, BUT I'LL GET YOU! HA!

Sugar-highly yours,

O.G.


The Vicomte looked at Madam G. briefly, both of them wearing the same worried expression. She opened the letter in her hand and began to read as well.
THE PHANTOM LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVES! MUWAHAHAHAHA!

She looked at Meg, who had already opened the note and she read it.


By the way, Madam Giry, if you happen to run across a black glove somewhere behind the stage, that's mine and I would very much like it back. I'm running around with ONE glove and it...it just feels weird you know? Like running with one shoe.

So, yes, again: MUWAHAHAHAHAHA!

FEAR MY POWER!

O.G.


"Mother?", Meg said, raising an eyebrow at Madam G. who looked ready to faint. Carlotta had long since stormed off the stage, screaming about how outraged she was. Raoul had his head in his hands as though someone had hit him outside the skull. Sugar-high Eric was still on the loose and many people were at risk. Himself included.

Where will the Phantom strike next?


Once again, I'm thanking my reviewers for their support. n.n I honestly didn't expect there to be such a great response. THANKS AGIAN! AND HOPE YOU LIKED THIS CHAPTER TOO!