Phantom Wishes
Chapter 2
Erik stomped around his lair.
How dare the managers put CARLOTTA in the role of the duchess in Il Muto! He had made his objections to the matter QUITE clear when he had left them all those notes.
Seriously, they just did not appreciate his work. It usually took him at least an hour to perfectly mix fear, threats, recommendations, and criticism into his letters. With too much of any ingredient, the bumbling oafs might get so scared they would cancel the performance for that night.
Well... maybe that WAS the problem. While threats were present in the letters, they tended to be subtle undertones and puns about the outcome. He had thought they were obvious enough, but Firmin and Andre were rather stupid... it was quite possible they simply didn't understand Carlotta's performance meant more than a few dropped sets.
Hmm... Maybe looking into including picture diagrams in his letters would be a good idea...
Muttering darkly under his breath, Erik sat down at his desk and began to cut a sheet of paper into many equal sized squares.
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"Andre, look!" Firmin gasped.
"What is it?"
"There's... another note. Er, well a few notes..."
"Well, what do they say? I haven't got all day for that ghost's shenanigans..."
"I think you should take a look for yourself. I've only opened the first one, and then I resealed it as quickly as possible."
Andre began rocking his chair back and forth, hoping to achieve enough momentum to launch his overweight frame from his sitting position.
Flying forward and stumbling, Andre came to rest at Firmin's desk.
On the desk were three envelopes, each labeled in the order in which they were to be opened.
Andre picked up the first envelope and turned it over.
"Oh, look at this seal. A skull. How pleasant. I certainly hope he's sending us good wishes for our health..."
Firmin just paled a little more, and said nothing.
Andre slid his letter opener under the tab, and pried open the envelope. Simple instructions were written on the inside.
Choose one.
Andre turned the letter upside down and shook it, and five pieces of paper fell out.
Each piece was on thick paper, and was labeled in bright red ink (at least that's what Andre hoped it was) with a name. Carlotta, Firmin, Andre, Buquet, and... Some kind of blob.
"What's this one say, Firmin?" Andre turned the card sideways and pulled his spectacles down onto his nose, peering intently at the angry scrawl.
"You know, I'm not quite sure. The first letter is an R, and the second an A, but after that it appears our resident ghost just stabbed the paper a few times in rage. "
"Well, I would understand if that was Carlotta's name, but I really don't know anyone whose name starts with RA. Maybe... isn't there someone named Regulus Arcturus Black that lives down the street? Could it be him?"
Firmin shook his head. "I don't really get the feeling the Phantom gets out much, so I don't see how he would know him in the first place..."
"Huh. Well I guess that one could be someone important, and whatever the ghost is plotting is sure to be bad, so let's just choose Buquet. He smells almost as bad as Raoul."
"That's it! Raoul! He's the last card!"
"Oh, that would explain the hatred stabs. Raoul sat in Box Five the other day, so maybe he's angry that it reeks of body odor and filth. I would be angry too if some idiot made my room smell like that."
"Quite right. Unfortunately, we can't choose him for whatever he's planning, as we need to siphon money off of him to run the Opera Populaire."
"Oh well, let's go with Buquet."
"Righto, my friend."
Firmin picked up the Buquet card and placed it on the table. Andre grabbed the second envelope and tore it open. Four more cards fell out.
"Ooh, Firmin, these cards have mathematical symbols! That's not going to make this easy to understand..."
The four cards read minus Christine singing, plus Carlotta singing, minus happy Opera Ghost, and plus atrocious toads.
"Oh god, it's been a long time since I did math... "
"Umm... the most I know is plus Carlotta singing and minus Christine singing mean the same thing."
"Well, the Opera Ghost is happy when Christine's singing, so if she's not... minus happy Opera Ghost means the same thing."
"And we all know he's been calling Carlotta a toad for years."
"So they all mean the same thing? Well plus atrocious toads sounds least offensive to him, so let's go with that one."
Andre laid the plus atrocious toads card next to Buquet's name. "Now for the last envelope."
Firmin held the third letter away from himself like it was a bomb, as Andre slowly slid the letter opener against the final seal.
The seal broke, and at least ten cards fell out.
Andre and Firmin froze, aghast at what they were seeing on the cards.
"Equals a broken chandelier?"
Firmin flipped over another card. "This one says equals a magical lasso and has a diagram of said lasso and a body..."
The pair continued flipping over cards. Rampant fires, poisoned goblets, sets replacing the blades in guillotines, guns, a drowning person, an alligator pit, and a room full of mirrors decorated the cards.
"Andre, what's this one? All the other ones were pretty clear, but this one has some roses on it, so it can't be all bad..."
A small diagram of a trapdoor above a pit was drawn on the card. Two roses hung from the ceiling of the pit, and they were completely thornless. Below, there were small triangular objects filling the chamber below.
"Huh. It looks like one of those new fangled ball pits. You know, the ones little kids play in?"
"Oh, yeah, it does! But those look significantly less comfortable than balls... they look like little spikes, or maybe even roses thorns."
"Strange threat of death. All of these are ridiculous!" Andre tossed the cards in the air, and the equals magical lasso landed right next to the plus atrocious toads card.
A low throaty chuckle echoed around the office. Firmin and Andre both froze, momentarily incapacitated before they regained control of their movements and proceeded to duck under Firmin's desk and cower in fear. A light breeze caused papers around the room to flutter; the managers slinked farther under the desk. The breeze grew into a gust, and into a wind, and into a full on gale. The cards on Firmin's desk jumped in the wind and swirled about in the air, raining down all over the room.
The gale stopped as suddenly as it had started, and the laughter echoed away.
Andre peeked his nose around the corner. "He's gone!"
"Well, we never saw him to begin with, so we don't really know that."
"Oh, shut up."
The two managers stood and dusted off their trousers, before turning their heads to the mess that was now Firmin's desk.
Papers were scattered everywhere, and the little cards and their envelopes had flown around the room. Andre stooped to pick one up. "Let's make sure that we keep these in their separate envelopes... I never want to hear that laugh again."
The pair scuttled around the room, sweeping the various bills and taxes into a pile, and carefully replacing each pictograph into their respective envelopes. Andre looked at the clock and started.
"We only have an hour left before rehearsal! We have to ready everything in less than an hour!" Andre pulled out large chunks of his already sparse hair.
Shoving the three envelopes in his pocket, Firmin raced out the door, followed closely by a huffing and puffing Andre.
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Christine lagged farther and farther behind Raoul each time he approached another noble. While this would all be fine and dandy if it was some boring business matter he felt the need to discuss, Christine was beginning to get rather sick of hearing him squeal and ask where all of the noble ladies had bought their dresses.
It really didn't occur to him that the aristocracy still used tailors.
Glancing again at the neighboring lord's pocket watch, she was overjoyed that it was time to make it to rehearsal.
Sauntering over to Raoul, she placed her arm on his and gave him a simpering look that likely permanently mentally scarred all in the immediate vicinity.
"I'm so upset... I have to go to rehearsal now. But rest assured, after the performance I'll be wide awake with you the whoooolllleee rest of the night." Christine winked mischievously before turning on her heel and walking slowly away. As she left, the rest of the eligible rich daughters ground their teeth in anger that she was the one Raoul had chosen: the majority of them had been vying for the handsome blond since their teen years.
The moment she was around the corner, Christine practically skipped down the rest of the hallway. Completely free! Maybe she would even get a glimpse of Erik preparing some terrible trick on Carlotta during rehearsal...
Yes, that seemed like one of the few ways to make her day even better than it already was.
A/N
Whoopsies… I was hoping to update this sooner, but all of my teachers decided January was a perfect month to give as much homework as possible. I heartily apologize that I am a terribly slow updater, and I sincerely hope bumbling managers, and the actual existence of Erik's pit of thorns makes up for it.
Please drop me a review with any suggestions/what you think!
