Summary: Soon before Christine and Raoul's anticipated marriage, Christine discovers the depths of Raoul's madness-induced jealousy, and to the horrors that he sentenced Erik to. Will Christine risk everything to protect the man she truly loves, or will Raoul finally triumph in winning his prize – by ending the life of a phantom? Very mature rating for sexual content.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything even remotely connected to Phantom. Don't sue me, just read and enjoy! I must state, however, that this story will contain strong adult content and themes, so plead continue at your own discretion. That means kiddies, go back to watching SpongeBob.

A Few Notes Before You Read…

Although this is not my first fan fiction, it is the very first story that I have had the courage to post! This fic is based on the ALW movie version of POTO, and was written with those actors in mind (I am sure you would all agree that it is a perfectly delicious thing to have Gerry on your mind, oh man of my heart!) You cannot honestly tell me that there would be this many POTO stories on this site had Gerard Butler not been the phantom. Wow - he is one incredibly sexy bloke.

Anyway, things will definitely heat up in the upcoming chapters – so be warned (or rather alerted, is probably the better word!) I thought it would be interesting to have a story in which the tables are turned between the Phantom and Raoul, with Raoul holding the upper hand in the fate of his beloved and the dark creature he loathes. Erik and Christine have a beautiful love story that should be portrayed beautifully in all areas – even the fun and naughty stuff. I must tell you that it is almost physically impossible for me to swear in any of my stories. Sure, I can write a steamy little fic, but when it comes to using harsh language - I can't and won't do it. I suppose I am just a "closet" bad girl - writing is the only way to purge myself of my sinful thoughts! Trust me – it will get really good. Please review to keep me motivated – my ego desperately needs it 

Chapter One:Awakening

"Christine…Christine. Wake up, child! For heaven's sake, wake up!"

Her body ached with coldness and fatigue, yet the constant voice resonating inside her head forced Christine to rouse herself from the dark, heavy waters in which she seemed to be immersed. Although her eyes still remained closed, she knew that she was not alone – wherever she was. She knew that she was lying down, but had no recollection of what had happened or how she got to this place. Her delicate, white face was deathly pale, and perspiration began to break out upon her troubled brow. There were so many noises running rampant in her ears, although only imaginary, the deafening sound became too much for her to bare. It was mainly one voice she heard, however, that seemed to cause her the greatest amount of pain. "You alone can make my song take flight…It's over now the music of the night! Oh Christine…Christine…"

She began to mumble words incoherently, like a child uttering a prayer before an alter.

"Mama, she's beginning to wake! Oh sweet Christine, it's Meg! You're safe now. Please – open your eyes…Christine…"

The second voice seemed even louder now than the first, causing the command to finally be processed in her brain and take effect. Her eyes fluttered, desperately trying to adjust to the light, even if it was only a few small lit candles. After a few moments, she finally began to see two familiar forms hovering above her. Holding a moist lace handkerchief, Meg's warm hand began to dab gently at Christine's forehead, giving a small smile as she saw that her friend was finally returning to consciousness.

"Everything is fine, my dear. It's over now." Madame Giry's reassuring voice, as always, made Christine relax briefly. Although she was enveloped in blankets on her dressing room settee, her body was still convulsing from being damp and cold. She turned her head slowly to look to the side, noticing her room was still filled with the fragrant roses from her past performance and notes from adoring admirerers. Their sweet scent was strangely mingled with the smell of smoke, triggering a hazy memory. It was in the mirror across from her, however, did she see the reflection of something that finally put all of the recent events into focus. Draped over her silk dressing screen was a soiled wedding gown, still dripping wet from being dragged though the opera house's dark underground waters. Her eyes opened wide at the painful sight of it, flashing over to Meg and Madame Giry for reassurance.

"You are still in shock, Christine. Do you remember what happened?" Meg asked in her concerned yet sweet voice.

"Yes…I mean, no." She looked around the room once again. "Raoul. Where's Raoul?"

Meg began to respond to the question, but the moment her mouth opened, her mother gave her a sharp look, cutting her off. Madame Giry began to stroke Christine's dark, untidy hair that washed over the red velvet chaise, speaking to her in soft and soothing tones. "He will come back to you very soon, my dear. That boy loves you very much, Christine. His love almost cost him his life tonight trying to protect you. Everything is as is should be now. You will see in time. It is how it should be."

A strange and uncomfortable feeling began to form deep inside of Christine. Unbeknownst to her, a small tear escaped from Meg blue eyes and fell down her rosy cheeks at her mother's words. She turned her face away, although desperately wanting to tell Christine everything that she knew – to scream at her mother that what was being done was wrong, but no sound could escape her lips. Clutching her friend's hand tightly, she bit her bottom lip to repress the emotions that welled inside of her.

"You really must rest now. The vicomte knows that you are alright. I will send him to you the moment that he returns."

Mdm. Giry rose and was away from her side almost instantly, pausing only briefly at the door without turning to address her daughter. "Come with me now, Meg."

Meg's eyes darted pleadingly to her mother and then back at Christine, whose own were closed tightly once again, as if to shut out the world and all its inhabitants. Meg leaned down to kiss the slender hand enclosed firmly in her own, pulled a soft cover tightly over Christine's shoulders, then walked hurriedly to rejoin her mother, choking back sobs with one hand. The loud thud of the door closing echoed throughout the small room. There was then an outburst of heated whispers in the foyer.

"You will say nothing, Meg! Nothing! Do you understand me - "

"Mama how can you do this to her…to him! You know what they will do! You know what he will he will do to him! He is mad! Please!" The voices were carried away with light, hurried footstep.

Christine gripped the blanket tightly over her scantily-clad body as she turned over onto her side. Her appearance in the mirror drew a soft gasp from her lips. It seemed as if all the life had been drained from her – the once radiant glow of her face was now replaced with a sickly, drawn countenance. She clutched the cover even tighter, rocking herself hypnotically like a frightened child. Straining to hear a familiar voice to comfort her in the darkness as there had been every night since her father's death, she began to weep, for no sound came. There was no music. No beauty. No angel. Only a terrifying silence.