Due to the fact that I do not feel like facing Fox of the Nova's wrath, I had to write this, or I may be dead. O.o I don't feel like dying. SPARE MEEEE!!! Hey, if you kill me, I will never be able to write again! Hehe, think about THAT ONE! I had the worst urge to put the Persian in here because I'm listening to 'Mundian To Bach Ke' by Pun'jabi MC. But alas, that would screw a lot of things up. So now I write!
Chapter 18: Tried To Warn You
Erik was planning something now. Amile was almost afraid of what it was. He was at his little minature of the stage, laughing slightly. The scratching of his quill on the paper was insanely fast. He only wrote like that and acted like that when he planned something. "Daddy?" she said gently. He gave an acknowledged grunt. She sighed. "What are you doing?" Sitting up, he looked at the minature stage and smiled. "That Carlotta will regret it if she decides to take Christine's place ever again." Amile rolled her eyes. "Oh Christine, I should have known." A soft growl came from him. "I know you dislike her, but could you not ruin my mood?" It struck her odd that he did not react violently when she talked about Christine. He cackled again. Now she was fearing for his sanity.
Soon, she heard the news about the newest opera. Christine was to be the lead, the countess. While Carlotta was to be the page-boy, a silent roll. If the orders were not obeyed, there would be a disaster. In a panic, she ran to find Madame Giry. She knew that her father could be very dangerous when he wanted to be. And she knew how defiant the managers were. The night would end in chaos. She knew chaos better than anyone. Though her father was known sometimes as the trap-door lover, she was known as the master of chaos. But her father taught her everything she knew from his own knowledge. She merely enhanced what she knew.
To her relief, she found Madame Giry backstage, monitoring the prop set-up. She could tell because of the ballet teacher barking orders. Carefully hiding behind the curtain, she whispered, "Madame Giry!" Luckily, no one heard her but Mme. Giry. She came over to the curtain and looked. "Amile?" Amile nodded, her eyes on the floor. "I need to tell you something important."
"Madame? Is something wrong?" came a man's voice. Madame Giry spoke very fast.
"Oh, just a ballerina having a problem with her costume."
She turned back to Amile and took her hand. "Come with me."
They went to a small room that could have probably been the old storage room. Madame Giry led Amile to a crate to sit on. "Now what do you want to tell me?" Amile thought about what words to use.
"You got the letters, correct?"
"Yes."
Amile let out a sigh. "Well, they must be obeyed. I know Erik better than I probably know myself. He taught me all I know. And you know what I can do. Well, he can do it so much better than me. If his orders aren't obeyed. Someone will get hurt. I just know it. I don't want that to happen. Suprisingly, I feel guilty over hurting those ballerinas when I was younger."
Mme. Giry was silent. "I will tell the managers. They are idiots, so they may not listen."
Amile hid behind a statue as she listened to Mme. Giry speak with the managers.
"Opera Ghost? Again with that stupid thing! I will not be obeying this silly little fairy tale like a slave!" M. Firmin ranted.
Disappointment washed over Amile. They were going to regret the night. The opera would be a disaster. Erik was smarter than anyone she knew. And he didn't care if he had to kill a hundred men to get Christine right where he wanted her to be. She shook her head sadly. Then she gently whispered, "I tried to warn you."
