Erik walked casually around to the back of the opera house and slipped in the back door. From there he walked quickly through the hall and into one of his many secret tunnels. He rowed across his lake easily; he was so used to it. He dashed over to his organ, and it sprang to life as his fingers danced across the keys.

Quietly he sang, "Night time sharpens, heightens each sensation. Darkness stirs, and wakes imagination…" he paused, forgetting the rest of the words he had written.

He grabbed his quill and dipped it in his nearly empty bottle of ink.

"I really need to get some pens down here." He said to himself.

He scribbled down some notes very sloppily, and in his attempt to fix them, tore the paper in two.

"Damn!" he exclaimed.

Hastily balling the paper with his fist, he grabbed another sheet and made the same notes, but a little neater.