Chapter 10

Erik was now quite sure that he could not handle being under the command of Mme. Giry as a singer and dancer. This was definitely what Richard had in mind when he made Erik part of the chorus line. This would make Erik miserable, and Richard knowing Mme. Giry very well, would mean that he would very happy with the treatment that she gave Erik. He frowned to himself and silently cursed Richard for wanting to make his stay here miserable. He decided then and there that he would not give Richard that satisfaction. He would grin and bear anything that he or Mme. Giry threw at him. With this in mind he now faced the two gentlemen who were donning their night shirts and getting ready for bed. He glanced at them, but they were clearly preoccupied with other things at the moment, and did not have their attention on him.

"Right then, shall I just take this bed then?" questioned Erik. The man who Erik still didn't know the name of murmured something that sounded like 'yes' and Erik headed over towards the bed that was the furthest from the fire, needing no warmth or light. He placed his things under the bed and looked under his pillow for a night shirt but found none.

"So you're new here then Erik?" Erik spun around and met the gaze of the man who Mme. Giry had called Gregory. Erik nodded in his direction and glanced at the other man who was now throwing more wood on the fire. "Great to have someone new. We got a lot to teach you. I'm Greg by the way." He held out his hand and Erik walked over to shake it.

"Hello Gregory. Nice to meet you." Gregory chuckled and his blue eyes crinkled in the corners as he ran a hand through his shaggy brown hair.

"The only person who calls me that are the managers and Mme. Giry. Please call me Greg." Erik smiled, Greg was a very nice looking person and from what Erik saw of the day's practice all the performers were good looking. Greg motioned to the man who now sat beside him on the bed with his head. "This is Sampson."

"Oi Greg, I can introduce myself." Sampson held out his hand for Erik to shake, which Erik did gladly. "You heard right, the name's Sampson, good to meet you. We always are looking for young blood, some of us are getting tired doing Carlotta's work for her." Greg rolled his eyes and nodded. Erik smiled briefly, he had seen Carlotta that day and there were really no proper words to describe her. She was…well…Carlotta. Noisy, bossy, extremely sensitive, and flamboyant, with a certain disposition to talk down to anyone below her, which turned out to be everyone.

"But…" said Greg with a smile, "…if you're good enough, you won't be doing it for long." Erik sat down on his own bed and regarded the two men who were sitting across from him.

"What kind of things would someone do for Carlotta?" asked Erik.

"Ah! It's LA Carlotta to you." Said Greg with a smirk and Sampson joined in with a hearty laugh.

"Hmm…well the worst would be to take care of her little dog, it's got a viscous temper, not as bad as hers I don't think, but a close second. You could always help her with fitting her costume, but that's mainly for the sewing ladies, but they do get tired quite quickly." Explained Sampson.

"I do feel bad for them, always having to come up with a good excuse to back out of their duties and tell them to the managers." Said Greg thoughtfully.

"They're getting pretty good at it, seeing as how much practice they've had." Shrugged Sampson.

"So those are probably the worst I would say." Continued Greg, "you'd also probably need to run simple errands for her, getting hair brushes, or jewellery, or going to yell at other people. That's the kind of stuff I like, makes me feel like Mme. Giry Personally I detest dogs, ever since I've seen the one she has." Greg shuddered. Erik grinned at exchanged glances with Sampson. There was a lull in the conversation and Erik took this opportunity to say something that had been burning in his mind since he had entered the room.

"Who is the Opera Ghostess?" Sampson and Greg threw him a terrified look and Sampson leaped up and rushed for the door, which he threw open. His head twisted from side to side and he shut the door quickly and locked it. Ah, thought Erik, so they can be locked. Sampson returned to he bed and they glared at him suspiciously.

"You haven't heard of her?" Greg whispered glancing around fearfully.

"No I'm new here remember?" They both nodded slowly, as if seeing him for the first time.

"Right…right…"Sampson trailed off, "We can't talk about it, you saw how mad she got."

"Mme. Giry?" Erik queried and Sampson nodded swiftly.

"The Opera Ghost is never seen by anyone, except to those who she chooses." Whispered Greg.

"Greg…come on, we've already got in trouble once this night, let's not make it two."

"No, Erik's got to know this. It's important." Sampson sighed in defeat and let Greg speak.

"No one's sure what she looks like, because she kills whoever sees her." Erik's mouth hung open in fright. How could any woman do this? "She's haunted the Paris Opera House since before it was built. Some say that she herself was an opera singer and that her voice will make anyone deaf. She's a ghost but she's made of flesh and blood just like you and me, and she uses the Punjab Lasso." Both men shuddered in fright and swept the room with their eyes as if afraid that the Ghostess herself would pop out of one of the walls and eat them alive.

"But, if she kills anyone who sees her, where do these stories come from?" asked Erik. (A/N: Yay for Jack Sparrow Quote! Arg! The Black Pearl! Swash, swash, buckle, buckle!–giggle-) Greg looked at Sampson and shrugged.

"Good question. I bet she spreads those stories herself, so that people won't bother her. Seems funny to me, she's always bothering the managers, not that they don't deserve it mind you."

"How?" asked Erik completely wrapped up in the tale.

"Through special notes. Never seen one myself, but the managers always get really quiet when Mme. Giry brings them one. I always have a laugh because it shuts the pair of them up, even Carlotta." Sampson grinned in spite of the situation.

"And what's the Pubab Lasso?" asked Erik

"You mean, The Punjab Lasso." Said Greg really quietly, so quietly that Erik had to lean forwards just to catch the following words. "It's a terrible thing, kills instantly it does. She throws it around the neck of the poor soul who was stupid enough to incur her wrath and he dies in a horrible fashion, all blue in the face." Greg closed his eyes and took a breath. "I would never want that to be my death. Never ever."

"I second that." Joined in Sampson. A few moments later when both of the men had composed themselves, Sampson looked into Erik's eyes with a serious stare. "If you remember nothing else lad, remember this: Your hand at the level of your eyes." Erik nodded, quite unsure what this was supposed to mean, but had no intention of pressing the matter further.

"Have either of you seen the Punjab actually used?" They both shook their heads.

"No never, like I said, the Opera Ghostess only can be seen when she wants to be seen." Said Greg, "Have you ever heard of a man called Jacques Laffrey?" Erik nodded.

"Yes, I was in the orchestra before I came here. I was only there a day, but I heard he was in First Chair for quite a while."

"Right you are. Do you know what happened to him?"

"I think Andre or Firmn said that he retired." Both of the men looked at each other and grinned.

"So the boy doesn't know." Said Greg.

"Erik, that's what the managers were pushing to the newspapers. This Opera House has had its fair share of scandals with the Ghostess hanging around all the time. There's quite a different story that circulating around here."

"What's the story?" asked Erik in a breathless whisper.

"He was killed, by the Opera Ghostess with the Punjab Lasso." Said Greg in an almost inaudible whisper. Erik's head swam and he too began to glance around the room. Who was this Opera Ghostess? Why did she kill Jacque Laffrey? Why was she tormenting the managers? Erik had heard from Mme. Giry from his eavesdropping that she was becoming for demanding. Demanding what? These questions stirred inside Erik's head and his eyes were loosing focus. The silence after Greg's comment was pressing in around him and he thought he was going to drown in it. He was finding it hard to breathe when a bang on the door made the three of them jump in terror and let loose three terrified shouts.

"Beds! Now!" Mme. Giry's voice floated through the crack in the door and quick as a flash, the three men were in their beds all trembling like aspen leaves in the cold wind of Autumn.

A/N: Didn't want to put an authors note at the beginning lest it spoil the mood, which is does for me sometimes. More shivers down my spine for this one, I enjoyed telling the Opera Ghostess' history. R&R please! Plus if all my reviewers are really nice, I might post my next chapter which…dun…dun…dun you see your first look at Christine. Can't spoil anymore! –zips her lips closed-