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"And what exactly am I supposed to have written?" Raoul demanded, taking the letter out of its envelope. In childish, red letters, he read:

Your days at the Opera Populaire are numbered. Christine Daae will be singing on your behalf tonight. Be prepared for a great misfortune should you attempt to take her place.

Believe me, Senora, I did not write this. I came ot the Opera house about a similar letter I received.

Madame Giry stepped out from where she was standing.

"I have a letter from the opera ghost to all of you, if youd have the patience to wait a moment before you all blew up in a frenzy of frustration."

She snatched the letter from Andre and Firmin's hands and handed it to Raoul. She figured that it would be safer with him. La Carlotta might have torn it up. After she handed it to him she stood back, a slightly amused look on her face, waiting to see what their reaction would be.

((IM SOOO SORRY for not posting earlier today..i have this HUGE report due tuesday so ive been working on that))

Raoul paled at the mention of another letter. What would this one demand? This "ghost" was following his love; had kidnapped her! He gripped the letters in his hand tightly. "And Christine, Madame? Has she been found?"

Erik's eyes fluttered open. What happened? One minute he was sitting at his organ, then the next...what time was it? Ah, it was the afternoon still...well..the late afternoon. Suddenly, the Opera Ghost realized that he sent out his letters not too long ago. In fact, he had only been asleep for about a half an hour. Surely his managers and the others were throwing fits about his requests. Erik soon came to realize that his suspicions were right when Carlotta began screeching about some letter. A devilishly devious grin curled in the corner of Erik's lips, "I should like to watch this fiasco..." He said quietly to himself. Not another word needed to be said. It seemed like a blink of an eye but when Erik finally, and fully, comprehended his position in the Opera House, he was already above the group of bickering employees. His presence would go unnoticed, since he was hidden in the ceiling's rafters. The Phantom peered an icy blue eye through a franc sized hole. Amusement shot through him as he watched the young patron become rather flustered, Carlotta unable to win a battle, and the managers acting as if thier heads had been lopped off like chickens. It was truely a humorous sight, and he'd laugh at it if he could.

Carlotta snatched the letter from his hands. And tore the letter out of the envelope ignoring the big red skull seal...

((so whats the letter meant to say?? Cos I dunno whether I should improvise or what...))

Erik could hear his voice echoing through his head as the familiar words carried about in the large enterance hall. A smug smile crossed the Phantom's face as frustration and outrage oras filled the room. "What fools." He muttered to himself. That's just what they were too. Incolent fools; slaves of fashion. If they were to refuse him, then they would suffer accordingly...

"Indeed? Can you believe this?" He said to no one in particular, glaring at Carlotta. Her lover...he wished! But Christine was far to innocent for that. Philippe never had any problems getting a dancer. A pout formed on Raoul's face as the prima donna swept past him, still shrilling denouncing Christine and the Opera.