Disclaimer: Phantom of the Opera is copyrighted to Leroux, Kay, Webber, Schumacher, and all the people that somehow produced official material related to Erik the Phantom. Meh, but basically copyright to thefour blokes mentioned up there. Don't sue! This is a non-profit story made for the sole purpose of entertaining. Fin.
A/N- It's me! Feri! this is my second phanfiction currently. This one is going to be more Raou-friendly and Raoul is attempted to stay IN-character. Though I still love Erik WAY more than Raoul ... He he... this phanfiction is also going to be purelybased upon the Andrew Lloyd Webber musical/movie, so no references from the books will be used to avoid confusions... and because there's no need to look back on Erik's past beyond that that is told on the movie/musical. That's all ya need to know. By the way, I need a beta-reader! I'm a spanish-speaking gal and let's just say my english skills are quite...er... lacking... for more info look up my profile ... And don't get fooled by the guidelines; I know they seem strict but I'm usually quite carefree and open-minded, so don't take them TOO seriously. I need a Beta-reader! (cries)
Anyway... This story takes place minutes after the "Down Once more/Track Down this Murderer" scene, just when Christine returns the ring to Erik. Enjoy! And please review! Constructive Criticism is very appreciated, whatever I need to get better! Trust me, I always take criticism into account, and I know I have a LOT of flaws! Flames will be used to cook marshmellows :D and will be totally ignored ha ha:D
So that's about it. And I'm usually a Raoul-basher. Sorry. I'm a faithful Erik/Christine shipper, but I wanted to try something new and write a phic in which I kept Raoul in-character. So please excuse any 'offs' in Raoul's behavior... I'm new to this XD...
Enjoy!
"The Main Attraction"
Chapter 1
'Fallen Angel'
"You alone can make my song take flight…" Erik murmured miserably. Diamond tears cascaded down his face as he saw his love glide away from him, his right hand holding the gleaming engagement ring she had returned to him. His newly broken heart shrank inside his chest as Christine ventured a glance back at him, looking over her shoulder to gaze one last time at her Angel of Music as Raoul took her away on the gondola. That was the final straw. That last glance sent his heart shattering into a million pieces as his soul was ripped from him. Where once was an incomplete soul yearning for entirety, there was now nothing but sheer emptiness.
Erik then took a candlestick that rested on the floor and, approaching one of the mirrors, he gazed at his disfigured reflection staring back at him mockingly. He was imperfect. A monster that had been foolish enough to believe that he could be loved. How had he dwelled in such an idiotic belief was now beyond his knowledge. He had been the worst fool of all.
"It's over now the Music of the Night!" Erik screamed, tears streaming down his cheeks furiously as Raoul and Christine drifted away through the lake and out of sight.
Trying to fight back the tears, he raised his arms, holding the candlestick with a firm grip. All at once, he swung his arms forward with a tremendous force and delivered a razing blow upon the mirror, the potency of the hit shattering the surface into a million pieces, just like his heart.
He advanced to each mirror, destroying their surfaces with such a strength he never knew he could have in this situation. All the sadness, hatred, regret, and frustration became bottled within him, and he unleashed all of those feelings unto each hit he gave.
There was a rumbling sound coming from the upper ground. The opera was burning down. But he cared not about it. He had lost his everything, his reason to live on, the only reason of his sole existence; now he had nothing to lose. He broke the last mirror, revealing a hidden passageway in its depths. The rumbling became slightly louder and more menacing above him.
He also heard the mob approaching. He could hear their angry voices echoing on the walls as they neared his lair through the lake. He looked down at the broken pieces of glass and saw the various distorted reflections of his face staring up at him. He sighed sadly and dropped his arms to his sides. The candlestick hit the ground with a clatter as it was released from Erik's grip.
With one final look at the point of the lake where his love had disappeared into, he stepped into the hidden passageway. Before stepping in entirely, he lowered a curtain, which concealed the secret opening, and disappeared into the darkness.
The mob reached the portcullis and waddled in. They looked around, looking for signs of the Phantom, but saw no one. The lair was deserted. There was no sign of the murderer, the soprano, or the Vicomte. Several members of the mob, who carried pitchforks and blazing torches, stared around in confusion, standing still on the lake. The police that came with them lowered their rifles and looked around for any sign of movement beyond the shoreline.
Meg Giry stepped in, her pants soaking wet from the walk on the lake as she climbed the shore and looked around. Her blonde hair had come loose of its previous bond and fell graciously down her back. Her blue eyes inspected the place, falling on the various objects it held. As her eyes marveled over the golden organ on the far end of the room, she saw a threshold to another room. She climbed a small set of stairs and reached a chamber with a big swan bed in the center. It looked quite ornate and warm, with a comfy fur rug underneath the bed. She inspected the room and stopped at the sight of a curious object lying on the floor.
Her blue gaze traveled to the small musical box with a shape of a barrel organ standing on a little pedestal. The Music box had on top a figure of a monkey dressed in Persian robes, which held two golden cymbals in each of its paws. But what caught little Meg's attention, was the pure white, half mask that rested beside the music box.
She approached it and kneeled, taking the delicate, porcelain mask on her hands. She examined it and stared sadly at it. Suddenly, she looked around at the sound of steps.
A policeman with a brown mustache and hazel eyes came in, looking severe.
"Mademoiselle Giry, we must make haste. The Opera is crumbling to the ground," the policeman said, "We must get out of here before we get trapped."
Meg nodded and hid the mask behind her back. As the policeman left, she followed him, keeping the mask well hidden in her arms.
The few policemen that traveled with them led the mob through an emergency exit located in a part of the Opera that had not caught fire in its entirety. The people were put out of danger as they were taken to the surface and out of harm. The only thing they had to worry about now was the whereabouts of the Phantom, Christine, and the Vicomte.
As the inhabitants of the opera watched in morbid satisfaction the burning opera house from a safe distance on the streets, Meg went to find her mother. The once glorious Opera House was ablaze. Smoke and menacing flames erupted from the windows, which had exploded due to the intense heat in which the Opera was engulfed. A huge tower of heavy black smoke traveled upwards into the sky, dimming the stars. The firefighters had reached the place, but so far they've been proved unsuccessful in their attempts to calm the fire as they sprayed tons of water through thick hoses at the blazing edifice, but to no avail.
As Meg finally found her mother in between the crowded onlookers, she found her staring in preoccupation at her former home. But it was not the building itself which held Mme.Giry's preoccupation, but the whereabouts of the three people that were yet to escape from the crumbling Opera. She rested assured that Erik would resurface safe and sound and escape thanks to his cunning escapist skills, but Christine and the Vicomte knew nothing of the secret passageways that led to the surface, and they were in grave danger.
"Maman!" Meg called at her mother, "Maman! Where is Christine? Is she safe? And the Vicomte?"
"I don't know, Meg," Mme. Giry said gravely, "They have yet to appear. If they don't make it on time, the opera will collapse on them and they'll be burned alive!"
Fear was evident in the Girys' eyes. What if they never made it? Mme. Giry prayed to God that they could escape unscathed.
Please Christine… Erik… Get out of there!, she thought desperately.
"Come on, Christine! We must hurry!" Raoul said urgently as he helped Christine up the winding stone staircase that led back to the opera through the mirror on the dressing room. There were pieces of wood and rock falling from the ceiling as the fire advanced. A rather big piece of lumber fell relatively close to them and Christine clung to Raoul in fear, giving a cry.
"We'll never make it, Raoul!" she cried as tears sprang to her eyes, holding unto him for dear life.
"Don't say that, Christine! We're going to get out of here alive and well! Trust me!" Raoul told her, giving her a little reassuring kiss on her forehead as he held her in his arms.
They climbed the rest of the stairs and emerged in the dressing room. They encountered the fire burning every piece of furniture in the room.
"Come on, Christine!" he cried, grasping her hand and leading her to the backstage. All the costumes, props, and equipment were burning to the ground.
Suddenly, a humongous piece of wood, probably from a beam, fell to the ground and Raoul and Christine got separated as it crashed on the floor, sending little embers flying about. A wall of fire burst in front of her and she fell back in surprise.
"Raoul!" Christine screamed, searching for him frantically around the crackling flames.
"Christine!" she heard him say somewhere beyond the firewall.
"Raoul! Where are you?" she screamed worriedly.
"Don't worry about me! Save yourself!" he screamed.
"No! I won't leave without you!" Christine screamed back. She still couldn't see him, but she knew he was just meters away from her, just beyond the blazing barrier. Tears had returned to her eyes in terror.
"Christine! I'll find a way! I'll be all right!" Raoul said, "Save yourself! I promise everything is going to be fine!"
"Raoul," she whimpered.
"I promise," she heard him whisper and she nodded to herself, knowing that he wouldn't break his promise.
She began looking around, searching for a possible way out. The flames were gradually cornering her as they advanced.
"Raoul?" she muttered. No response. He was gone. She ran through the backstage, covering her face with her arms to fight the overwhelming heat. Then, she saw a staircase come into view: a winding, metal staircase. She climbed it hastily and reached the rafters.
Some of the ropes had already caught fire, and the wooden bridges that connected both ends of the backstage were swaying and making groaning sounds. The way out was beyond the bridge; she had to cross it.
Trying hard to not look at the blazing inferno below, she grasped the ropes at either side of the bridge for balance. She made her way slowly and carefully, trying to apply as less pressure as possible.
But then, there was a grumbling sound and the wooden boards beneath her feet gave in and broke. She gave a cry as she grabbed the ropes, holding for dear life as she dangled. She was going to die. She could feel it. She could feel the menacing flames burning just a few meters below her. She wouldn't resist that long for she wasn't that strong, and there was no one to help her.
She gave a scream as her hands slipped a bit on the rope, but she managed to keep her hold. She couldn't stop the tears of fear from escaping her eyes and they rolled down her cheeks as she sobbed in fright.
Erik made his way up a dark staircase that led to the surface through his shadowy passageway. His steps were heavy and slow as he climbed. His entire world had crumbled around him in a matter of seconds. He had lost his only love, his music, and his home. Now there was nothing worth living for. He had lost everything. Why continue living if there's nothing to look forward to? What a waste of life his had been. When he emerged, he would make sure to end it without wasting a moment. He just didn't want to die in the only place he had known as 'home'.
As he wondered in his thoughts, a piercing sound cut through his head.
He stopped on his tracks and straightened up in attention. What he had heard was a scream. A woman's scream… CHRISTINE!
It had been Christine the one that had screamed! He recognized her voice. She was in danger! He thought she had exited the building safely. But she was still trapped inside. He had to help her. He couldn't let her die. No matter what had happened between them, he had to help her at all costs. Dropping all rational though aside, he decided to go on his plan, even if it was in expense of his life.
He ran up the remaining stairs and reached the landing, but instead of going through the door beyond another flight of stairs that led out to a way out of the building, he took one to his right that led to the rafters.
He opened the door and ran through a dark hallway. He quickened his pace at the thought of him arriving too late to save her. He finally reached the hidden door that took him to the rafters. He had used this passageway to look upon the Il mutto opera some months ago, and also, led to the place where he had killed Joseph Buquet.
He kicked the door open and was met with the overwhelming heat of the fire. He coughed as he inhaled a lungful of smoke. He began to sweat immediately and his marred skin burned horribly as the heat touched it. He squinted his eyes and searched around. He was sure he had heard the scream come from here. Then, his eyes fell on the white figure dangling from the ropes in the middle of the place, the bridges each crumbling down consecutively. She tried to climb the rope, but she only slipped further and she gave a feeble whimper. The wedding dress was starting to weight on her and her arms were turning weak.
"CHRISTINE!" Erik called desperately over the raging sound of the fire. She turned her head to his direction and her tear-filled eyes widened.
"Angel!" she tried to say, but smoke caught on her throat and all that came from her mouth was a rough cough.
"Hold on!" Erik screamed as he looked for a way to reach her. He saw the random ropes dangling from the ceiling and a yet unharmed bridge swaying calmly just beside Christine; he reached for the nearest rope and stepped carefully unto the delicate bridge. He walked as carefully as he could toward Christine, grabbing the ropes above his head for security.
As he stood beside her on the subsequent bridge, he kneeled, holding one of the ropes tightly as he reached out for her.
"Christine!"
She looked up at him with fearful eyes filled with tears.
While wrapping his right hand securely with the rope, he reached out with his left hand.
"Take my hand!" Erik screamed. Christine's rope was beginning to untangle under the weight. The fire below was gaining force and the tongues of flames almost reached them.
Christine reached out with her right hand, trying to hold on with her left, but then, the rope ruptured and Christine fell, but Erik managed to take her hand just in time. But at that point, the wooden boards underneath Erik broke and he held on to the rope with might. Now they were dangling perilously over the burning hell below, him clutching her arm as firmly as he could muster, she clinging to him desperately.
"Christine!" Erik screamed. The weight she was exerting on his arm alone was crushing and he couldn't think he could hold on much longer. She understood the message and climbed. She reached out and wrapped her arms around his neck securely.
"Hold on as tight as you can!" he told her in her ear as he reaffirmed his hold on the rope with both hands.
Christine felt awkward doing this, but she circled his waist with her legs as she held to him firmly. She trembled with a mixture of adrenaline and terror, and sniveled into his shoulder as they both hung above the raging inferno underneath.
"Christine," Erik whispered in her ear, "I won't let anything happen to you… I promise."
Christine closed her eyes and nodded. Erik then climbed the adjacent ropes cautiously, since there was no bridge, and reached the edge where the hidden door was located.
She climbed off him, but Erik held her tight against him. Erik opened the door and pushed her through it, closing the door behind him as he followed her.
Before they could advance further, Erik turned her around by the shoulders and made her face him.
"Are you all right?" Erik asked, concerned and trembling with adrenaline. His face was sweating and his heart was pumping rapidly.
"I… I'm all right," she told him, avoiding his eyes. She couldn't forget what had just happened down at his lair moments ago. She couldn't forget his saddened face. She couldn't forget the pain she had caused him. She couldn't forget the kiss that had broken him.
"I-I thought you had escaped…" Erik said softly, diverging his eyes as well. They were both sharing the same feelings of shame and remorse at that current moment. Erik felt guilty for being so possessive of her; he was also ashamed of having frightened her… but most importantly… that kiss… he couldn't forget her lips locked with his… that blissful feeling that invaded him and seemed to last an eternity when it had only been some mere seconds; that feeling he had been yearning for so many years, and that now he was afraid of.
"Raoul and I got separated when a piece of wood fell on us. I don't know where he is," she said, her voice breaking slightly as she stuck her eyes on the wall, tears slowly making their way back to her eyes, "I tried to find a way out… but I…" she didn't finish the sentence as she felt the color rise to her cheeks. She had been too clumsy and that had almost cost her life… had Erik not saved her.
"Thank you for saving me," she whispered. "How can I ever repay you?"
She tentatively returned her gaze back at him and managed a small smile. Erik was surprised but hid it. How could she smile on a moment like this… and more notably… smile at… him?
"There's nothing to repay," Erik said, turning his head and instantly covering the right, mangled side of his face with his hand when he suddenly realized he was not wearing the mask.
She reached out tentatively and removed his hand from his face. She didn't care how he looked. She cared about him, his soul, his very essence, his heart and nothing else. Their eyes locked for a moment, and in that instant, everything was forgotten. There were only he and she.
"I-" she started, but she got cut off as the floor beneath them gave an ominous shake, followed by a grumbling sound that reverberated against the walls.
"What the-?" Erik muttered, looking down at the trembling floor, but before he was finished, Christine pushed him roughly and he fell backwards to the floor. He heard something crash loudly and there was silence... the quaking had diminished and the grumbling had subsided, and a small curtain of dust hung around the room from the recent collapse… Just then, he heard Christine give a pained moan.
"Christine?" Erik called. He straightened into a sitting position and squinted his eyes to look for her in between the darkness. He saw tons of little rocks lying across the floor, and the dust covering everything from his view. As the dust settled, he made out a big silhouette some meters away of him. With a new feeling of worry filling him, Erik distinguished Christine's face through the darkness. She was frowning in pain and was laying facedown on the floor, her head turned to a side. She lifted her elbows and attempted to stand up with her arms, but she quickly fell back on the floor, giving a soft, muffled groan.
"Christine?" Erik swiftly jumped up and ran to her side, kneeling beside her. Just then, he noticed what was keeping Christine from standing up; there was a huge piece of rock crushing her legs. With shock, he quickly stood up and tried to remove the rock from over her. He gripped the edges and pulled with all his might. Straining his eyes because of the exertion, he heaved the huge rock and, with a grunt, he pushed it forward, freeing Christine. The rock gave a loud 'clunk' as it fell to the floor.
Panting, Erik returned to Christine's side and helped her up.
"Christine, are you all right?" Erik asked her as she weakly stood up with his helping arm.
"Yes…" she muttered, but suddenly, she closed her eyes shut in pain and gasped as she fell. Erik grabbed her before she hit the floor and sat her down. Christine took her hand to her ankle and rubbed it. She quickly withdrew her hand and stared down at her fingers; they were covered in warm, crimson blood. Her eyes and Erik's traveled to her right ankle, which was bleeding freely under the wedding dress's rim.
Erik suddenly took the edge of his left sleeve and ripped off a long portion of it. He approached Christine's leg and examined it. After he removed some blood from the wound etched across her ankle with his right sleeve, he tenderly wrapped it with the piece of cloth, bandaging the wound to stop it from bleeding anymore. As a red stain formed on the surface of the white cloth, he turned back to her.
"Why did you do it?" Erik asked her severely.
"Excuse me?" Christine said, confused.
"Why did you hurt yourself to save me?"
Her eyes widened a bit, "Well… I…"
"You shouldn't have done that! I'm not worth it, Christine!" he said, raising his voice a bit and looking sternly at her, "You shouldn't have risked yourself for my sake! This may look like just a minor wound, but something worse could have happened! Don't you see that your life is much more valuable than mine? My own life is not worth sacrificing for."
Christine dropped her gaze sadly. How could someone be so cruel to himself? How could someone think so low of one and value not what he is? And after what she had done to him… he still intended to do anything she asked of him, even give his life for her. Erik's thoughts were far too modest and noble. Why couldn't he think of himself highly for once? Why couldn't he see that he was a very special person with incredible blessings? Why couldn't he see that, regardless of what had happened, she still cared for him and saw him as a guardian and protector; that she didn't want the only person that kept her company when she was alone as a child to get hurt?
"I don't want you to ever put yourself in danger because of me again," Erik said, "My only concern is to get you out of here alive, even if that costs my life."
"Angel, I.-"
But Erik interrupted her.
"Don't call me Angel… I'm not such a thing," Erik said, averting his stare.
"I-I never knew your name," Christine clarified softly.
"My name… is Erik," he said, returning his gaze to her.
"Erik," she said softly, tasting the sound of the name. An unwilling chill ran down his spine as his name brushed past her lips like a soft wind. His name sounded so beautiful when she pronounced it. A rumbling sound was heard above them and they both remembered that the Opera was collapsing around them.
"You can't walk like this," Erik said, nodding to her ankle. He hastily heaved her into his arms and ran through the door to the hidden passageway. Taking advantage of Erik's haste and distracted attention, Christine glanced up at him. She felt strangely comfortable in his arms, and very protected.
As he kicked the door to the passageway open, Erik ran up another flight of stairs toward the door to the near exit. Erik pushed the second door open and his insides gave a lurch. The sight before him was of crumbling pieces of wood and rocks covered in raging fire, blocking the exit.
"Damn," he muttered, rummaging in his mind rapidly for another possible way out. In his pensive state, he unconsciously tightened his grip on her in a protective way.
Then, something clicked in his mind: the roof.
They could still make it through the roof. It was worth a try, and Erik would do anything to get Christine out of harm's way. He ran back down the stairs and dashed through the door from which he had come from. He opened the third door and encountered himself once again at the rafters. All the bridges had collapsed, the ropes were turning to ashes, and the fire was increasing height alarmingly fast.
Trying hard to protect Christine from the heat with his own body, he turned right and ran through a narrow hallway toward the stairs to the roof. As he ran, he turned his head sideways and gazed in morbid satisfaction at the sea of blazing flames consuming all the stage, backstage, and props.
The stairs he had been searching for came into view and he climbed them as fast as he could. They reached a landing that was filled with old costumes, props and other objects that were not used anymore. They had started burning by now, but Erik took no notice and sprinted up a new set of stairs that led to the roof. He kicked the door at the top open and darted out. They were standing on the rooftop now, the thick cloud of smoke still covering the sky. Now the only way out was either by jumping off the edge of the building or climbing down. The former would kill them immediately, so he opted for the latter one.
He lowered Christine slowly and looked around, searching for something.
"Erik?" Christine inquired at his worried expression.
Erik turned back to her and took her by the shoulders.
"I'll be right back," he told her as calmly as he could, "If anything happens, call for me and I'll come right away. Understood?"
Christine nodded and Erik made his way back through the door they had come from. Christine sat on the base of one of one the humongous Pegasus statues that stood at the edge of the edifice. Her ankle stung horribly and the rest of her lower body ached from the hit.
Moments later, Erik emerged back from the door, carrying a long, thick rope in his hands. She saw with horror a scorching fire behind him as he closed the door hurriedly. The fire was extending incredibly quickly and they had few minutes left until the main supportive systems of the opera burned to the ground and the building collapsed.
Erik approached to where she stood and tied one end of the rope around one of the Pegasus broad forelegs; he tightened the knot as securely as he could. He threw the other end over the edge and it fell down the side of the building, dangling and swaying softly against the wind.
"You must climb down," Erik told her, panting. His face was filthy and covered with soot and ashes, and he was sweating copiously.
"What?" she asked incredulously, staring at him.
"You need to climb down," he repeated, "It's the only way out."
"But… what about you?" she asked, concerned.
"I'll follow after you reach the ground safely," he told her, "But we must make haste, we haven't much time left."
She nodded reluctantly. She limped to the edge with Erik's help and looked down at the streets. It was crowded with onlookers and members of the opera house, and firemen where shooting tons of water at the flames, trying in vain to ease their intensity.
"Erik," she started, turning back to face him with a saddened face mixed with worry.
"I'll be fine," he reassured her, beckoning her to take the rope. But before she could do so, she approached and embraced him, encircling his torso with her arms.
Erik looked quite taken aback, and didn't return the gesture.
"Christine…" Erik whispered in disbelief, "Please…"
"Thank you," she murmured into his chest. She straightened up and looked up at him with glassy eyes.
"Stay safe," she told him, placing her hand above his left cheek tenderly.
"I will," he said, placing his own above hers and meeting her eyes, "Now…go!"
She nodded and took the rope between her hands. She glanced once back at him, and gave a small smile.
A window from the first floor shattered into pieces, and Raoul stumbled out of it, coughing out the smoke. His face was sweaty and filthy, and his blonde hair was wild.
He ran out into the street, away from the burning edifice, and fell on all fours, panting.
"Monsieur le Vicomte!" someone called.
He raised his head and was met with a policeman and Mme.Giry.
"Monsieur le Vicomte, are you all right?" the policeman inquired, "We've called an ambulance, it'll arrive here shortly."
Raoul however took no notice of this. He only cared about one thing at the moment. He reached with his right arm and seized Mme.Giry's sleeve, staring up at her with eyes filled with apprehension and dismay.
"Christine…" he mumbled, "Where is she? Please tell me she's here!"
"No, monsieur! She's not here!" Mme. Giry said worriedly, uneasiness invading her being now, "We thought she was with you!"
"No… we got separated," Raoul muttered miserably.
"Oh God…" he brought his hand to his temple, "She's still trapped inside! I must get her out of there!"
He stood up and ran towards the edifice but several policemen held him back.
"Monsieur! No! It's too risky!" One of the policemen muttered urgently.
"Let me go! I must get my fiancée!" Raoul shouted, trying to fight the policemen.
"We can't let you return monsieur!"
"Let go! She's going to die there!" Raoul said desperately.
Then, there were gasps and chattering among the crowd, and several of them pointed to the roof of the building in astonishment.
Raoul lifted his head and saw Christine standing on the edge of the rooftop with a rope on her hands. His eyes widened and his heart hammered hard against his chest at the sight of her.
"Christine!"
She couldn't hear him over the raging sound of the flames. He saw her turn her head back once and step over the edge, starting to climb down the rope cautiously.
Raoul freed himself and fought his way through the crowd to get nearer to the building.
She saw her climbing down at an insecure pace and saw her turn her head up several times as she made her way down. Suddenly, the rope came loose of its support on the edge and Christine began to fall, but someone, a shadowy figure, grabbed the upper end of the rope and avoided a disaster. Raoul couldn't make the outline of the shadowy figure; he only knew that he was preventing Christine from crashing to the ground, holding the rope tightly.
"Who is that? " He muttered in disbelief, but the commotion was so great, that no one heard him. The figure was holding the upper end of the rope firmly, allowing Christine to continue her climbing down.
But a tiny flame, unnoticed by anyone, began eating part of the rope in the middle, quickly turning the rope thinner and thinner. She was almost near the ground and Raoul ran forward. The rope abruptly ripped apart and she fell. Luckily, Raoul was there when she fell, catching her on his arms.
The shadowy figure fell back as the weight on the rope was suddenly lifted. The ripped upper part of the rope fell down to the street with a soft thump as he fell backwards to the hard floor of the rooftop.
"Raoul!" Christine gasped as he caught her before she hit the ground.
"Christine!" he said, "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine," she said and turned her gaze back up. Erik was nowhere to be seen over the edge of the rooftop. Her insides gave an uncomfortable lurch as she saw both pieces of the long rope burning on the ground beside her and Raoul. Suddenly, her heart sank as she heard a loud scream coming from the rooftop.
Erik straightened up, rubbing the back of his head and heaving a pained groan. The rope had ripped around the middle and he had fallen backwards when the weight was lifted abruptly.
Christine.
"Christine!" he mumbled, and quickly leapt to his feet to peek over the edge. As he looked down, he saw her talking to that Vicomte, lying on his arms. Well, at least that boy had caught her before she hit the ground. He saw her turn her head back up. Judging by her puzzled expression, he could say she couldn't see him.
He looked around. There was nothing to help him escape now. He couldn't return to the room to fetch another rope, since the fire was already consuming it. He was trapped. Well, at least Christine was safe now; he had accomplished his goal.
Then, he heard a cracking sound beside him. He turned his head and stared in horror as the huge Pegasus statue came tumbling over him. He attempted to run, but he was too slow. The statue towered and fell over him, crushing his lower body and his small back. He gave a scream of pain as he felt some of his bones breaking under the immense weight. He tried to move from under the statue, but it only hurt him more.
He laid face down on the floor, slowly ceasing to feel his legs and his abdomen. There was nothing he could do but wait, the pain throbbing throughout his body.
Then, there was an explosion just a few meters beside him on the floor coming from below and big chunks of rock came flying about; one hit him squarely on the forehead, leaving a nasty gash upon it.
He was knocked unconscious instantly. He slumped back to the ground limply and his head bled abundantly, covering all the right side of his face in crimson blood.
Please, Erik… Come out… please, Christine thought desperately as she was taken to a safe distance away from the building. After the scream, there hadn't been anything. Not a sign of Erik. She had begun to worry as an explosion was heard coming from the rooftop after that.
Once she was at a safe distance, Raoul held her in his arms.
"Christine, I'm so gad you're fine," he said sincerely, "How did you escape?"
Christine froze. Would Raoul be angry with her if she told him his rival had rescued her?
"Er… Someone helped me," she said softly, avoiding his eyes.
"Who?" he asked, frowning in confusion.
"I… The one who helped me…was-" But she got cut off as a loud groaning sound emanated from the building. Everyone turned to look at the Opera House, staring at it anxiously. The edifice gave more ominous groaning and grumbling sounds.
Abruptly, the whole Opera house collapsed, its walls crumbling to the ground and the whole building falling down. There was an explosion of fire, smoke, debris, rocks and dust.
Raoul pinned Christine to the ground and covered her with his body, protecting her from the flying remains of the Opera. The firemen shot gallons and gallons of water at the falling structure as it gave away. The crowd gasped and screamed as they ran away from the falling construction
For Christine, only one thought crossed her mind that sent her heart sinking horribly:
"ERIK!"
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Dun dun duuuuun... Please review! I promise i'll update faster if you do! (adopts puppy eyes) Pwease? I totally suck at cliffies ha ha!
Toodles!
Feri