Warnings - M/MA Rating. Violence, implied underage notions.

Christine/Raoul | Leroux Erik/Christine

Christine screamed at the mass of glass and metal smashed into the auditorium in front of her eyes.

The whole building seemed to shake as the sudden lapse in electricity send them all into darkness.

From the rafters, she heard what sounded like a madman cackling above the chaos that ensued below.

As power returned the company dispersed and Christine felt a hand grab her wrist.

Expecting it to be her Angel she fought to free herself but as her eyes met Raoul she threw herself into his arms.

Raoul instantly looked for any injury desperately asking, "Are you hurt?"

"No" stammered Christine, unable to feel anything for the shock.

As the screams continued they watched as people desperately trying to pull loved ones from under the mass of metal and glass.

The voice above them kept laughing, taking delight in the horrors below.

"It's him" cried Christine, seeing a figure move with speed.

"No that's a man, not your ghost" assured Raoul, urging her off the stage.

"I must see him" exclaimed Christine. "I must know if he did this!"

"We need to leave" ordered Raoul. "It is not safe for you here"

Prising her hand from his Christine ran from him, pushing into the crowds of dancers that were trying to flee.

"Christine" shouted Raoul. "Christine!"

He yelled for her but Christine continued her journey.

Moving against the tide she fought to get back to her dressing room and threw open the door.

Slamming it closed behind her she shouted: "Angel where are you!"

Rushing to the mirror she hit the surface hoping it would summon him.

"Why would you do this!" she yelled. "What have I done, those people were innocent"

"After all that work, all that effort. Learning Carlotta's part at your insistence!" she cried.

Smacking the mirror harder. "You wanted me to perform tonight, why would you do this!"

Getting no response she began pelting the mirror with various objects. Books, shoes even her hand mirror smashed against the surface but it did not crack.

"Angel" she begged. "Please, what have I done!"

She broke down on the floor and sobbed, "What have I done to you?"

The chaos outside was raging, a deafening noise that rang in her ears.

It came as a shock when his voice finally replied, no louder than a whisper.

"Delilah" he hissed, his form appearing in the mirror. "Jezebel"

"Angel!" cried Christine. "Please, what have I done?"

"Temptress, you know what you have done" shouted Erik.

"I do not" cried Christine, rushing to the mirror. "I do not know my crime!"

"After I have given you everything, you dare to love another!" roared Erik.

Christine fell silent, "That is not a crime"

Erik jolted, slamming his fist against the mirror.

Feeling the searing violence behind that action, she backed away from the glass.

"You love the boy?" hissed Erik, through gritted teeth.

Christine took a deep breath, "Yes I do, I want to marry him and I will"

"After all, I have done for you" replied Erik slowly. "This is the repayment"

"You have been my mentor and my guide, why must that end?" urged Christine.

"I have made my feelings for you very obvious Christine" exclaimed Erik. "This betrayal is my cause for violence"

"Your feelings?" cried Christine. "What feelings? I don't understand"

Erik went silent and that became his answer.

"Do you-do you love me" stammered Christine.

"As a man would love a wife" replied Erik slowly.

Christine fell back into her chair, this revelation frightened as well as repulsed her.

"No," she said in a whisper, "No you cannot"

"I will not deny my feelings, Christine. I want you as my wife" proclaimed Erik, finally passing through the gap creating by the moving panels of the mirror.

"Stay away from me" cried Christine, leaping from her chair.

"Christine please, I won't hurt you" assured Erik, holding out his hands.

"I cannot love you as you wish" she blurted. "I cannot"

"You are young and naive, I can understand my intentions will frighten you" explained Erik. "In time my love will not repulse you"

"You have my love" cried Christine. "As a daughter loves her father, that's what you are to me"

"I am not your father" replied Erik swiftly, "Nor do I want to be treated as such"

"Then why fulfil his role" demanded, Christine. "Guide me and help me as a father would?"

"Because I love you" exclaimed Erik. "I love you more with every passing moment, Christine, please, be mine"

Moving back further Christine shook her head, "No, I will not"

"Christine," said Erik, taking a firm step towards her. "You will"

"You cannot make me, I have a man who loves me and I love him. You must forget the love you have for me" replied Christine boldly.

"Never," said Erik. "You will be mine, whether you love me or not"

"I think" he added. "Some further time in my home will make you understand"

Christine knew what would come next, she hurtled towards the door, but Erik already had her in his vice-like grip.

As he dragged her towards the mirror, Christine grabbed the only weapon she could see. A piece of broken glass from her small hand mirror had landed on her vanity.

Reaching for it, she plucked it up and pushed it towards his face, pained to hear the noise he made as it dug into his skin.

Giving him a swift kick in between his legs, Christine freed herself and whilst he staggered she pushed him, hoping he would return to his realm through the mirror.

As neither of them expected Christine to have such strength, she cried out as her Angel's body smashed against the glass laying on the floor.

He lay there for a moment before pulling himself off the ground. Christine by now had grabbed another piece of glass, holding it ready if he should try and grab her again.

Erik turned towards her and took some delight in her horror.

Christine was trembling as she saw glass embedded in his face and hands, blood trickling down his skin and the mask.

It was obvious that when he became violent, his compassion, what little he had would vanish.

"Tell me" demanded Christine. "How many hours have you spent behind that mirror?"

"What are you talking about?" replied Erik

"When did you first start watching me?" she said bluntly. "When I first started lessons or before then?"

Erik scoffed, "Don't be ridiculous"

"Is it?" retorted Christine. "Your voice spoke to me in the dormitory as well as here. How many years have you been watching me?"

His eyes locked with hers. Christine knew she was pushing him but she could no longer hold her tongue.

"Since I was eighteen, sixteen, twelve?" she hissed.

"Your words are misguided much like your thoughts" warned Erik.

"Are they?" demanded Christine. "The way you look at me sometimes would convince me otherwise"

"I look at you in love" reminded Erik. "I want you to remember that"

Her saving grace came as Raoul finally reached her dressing room and tried the door handle. "Christine please, are you there!"

Christine ran to the door, frightened that the sound of her lover would anger Erik further.

"Before you go" called Erik, pulling a piece of glass from his face and flinging it on the floor.

"You will have peace for a while, I will not visit you nor care for you. But that will not last forever."

He looked and let out a strained laugh, seeing the door began to shake on its hinges as Raoul threw his body weight against it.

"Enjoy the time you have with him, you will need memories to cherish once you become my bride. This is not over my Christine, it has only just begun"

Christine could not say a word as Erik slipped behind the mirror and Raoul finally snapped the lock.

Bursting inside Raoul saw the utter carnage in the room and saw his fiancee standing motionless, staring at the large mirror.

"My love" cried Raoul, trying to avoid the glass that covered the ground. "Christine what's the matter, why did you run from me?"

"He did it," said Christine weakly. "He caused the accident"

"Who?" asked Raoul, scanning the room.

"The Phantom, my Angel" she replied slowly.

"They are one and the same now?" mused Raoul, trying to joke with her.

"He- he loves me" she sighed.

"Your Angel loves you?" remarked Raoul. "My love these dreams of yours are getting out of control, you need a Doctor"

"No" begged Christine. "Raoul, you don't think I am mad do you?"

"Of course not" assured Raoul. "I just want you to be happy, ever since these dreams, all this talk of Angels and Phantoms, you have not been the same"

"Just take me away from here" pleaded Christine. "I need peace"

"Then you shall have it" hushed Raoul, urging her from the dressing room.

The pair returned to the chaotic hallway and Raoul saw his brother standing amongst the many men looking for their mistresses in the chorus.

"Philippe" Raoul shouted above the crowds.

His brother turned and pushed his way to them.

"Christ what a mess this is" exclaimed, Philippe. "I see you have Christine but I cannot find my Isabelle"

"I am taking Christine to the carriage," said Raoul loudly. "Are you coming?"

Philippe wavered but not seeing his lover anywhere gave way to reason. "Yes, I cannot stand to be here a moment longer"

Christine clung to the brothers as they pushed their way to an exit and onto the street.

A whole host of police where standing guard outside the building, stopping the public from going any closer.

"Sir!" a voice shouted above the roar of the chaos.

Philippe pointed to their driver, standing and waving from the carriage. "There Raoul, look!"

It took several minutes to reach the carriage as the swarm of people made it difficult to move.

Philippe swung open the door and helped his brother and Christine inside, before shouting to the driver. "Jack, get us home, now!"

The horses whined at the crack of the whip and sped away from the carnage and distress.

Christine could not stop shaking, no matter how much Raoul comforted her.

Her Angel, now her tormentor had done the terrible deed.

The dead and their blood was on her hands as well as his.

Erik returned to lair in a rage fueled by betrayal.

How could she love the boy after he had given her his soul, talent, time and praise?. This scar would take time to heal for her actions had cut deep.

Releasing his anger items of furniture were thrown, ripped and torn. Each piece of glass and wood resembling the Victome and his delicate features.

His shaking hands fumbled for his opiates, he needed to forget this nightmare. His abuse of these substances over the years had made him build up an immunity to their effects. It would take a great deal of them to finally kill him.

As the bottle rested at his lips he pondered the idea.

Death had been at the foremost of his thoughts for as long as he could remember. This cursed life had never seemed worth living. That was until Christine.

She had brought him more joy than he cared to imagine and it had all been thrown into the fire.

His rage turned to despair and that is when his mind did its best work.

Those people above feared him but they still chose to mock him.

This disaster was the beginning of the end.

It is only when the killer vanishes does the victim feel safe.

It would take months before the Opera House could re-open. He had seen the damage for himself. It would not come as a surprise if this fateful performance would have been the last.

No doubt a party of police would be sent to find him, those brave souls he could easily rid himself of.

There was a time when the reconstruction would have been of the utmost importance to him, not anymore.

He would choose to hide, complete his life's masterpiece and return to them. All would come to fear him and his wrath. His threats were no longer hollow warnings, disobedience would no longer be an option.

As for Christine, she would become his bride. It was her destiny as well as his. She understood him like no other and he, in turn, saw her for more than her beauty and her voice. Her very soul belonged to him.

Where Erik once sensed confliction he now sensed resolve.

No one was going to stop him.