Erik stood menacingly over the red figurine, pointing at it with a rather long bony finger. His dry lips were curled into a cruel smile. "Choose the scorpion, Christine, and Chagny will be set free, meaning that you have agreed to remain here with me for all eternity as my bride." His eyes then clouded with an unreadable expression which scared his young ingénue even more than she already was. His finger slowly moved from the scorpion to another figurine and she could have sworn she saw his whole hand twitch just for a moment. "Or choose the grasshopper and the whole Opera House will be blown into a thousand pieces!"

Erik stepped back in equal paces until he reached the wall, smiling to himself as he crossed his arms. He knew he had the dominating hand over the situation. His yellow eyes, which seemed to glow in the murky darkness, stared into Christine's inner soul and he immediately knew what she desired. She wanted to leave, leave with her lover and never look back onto this gloomy place ever again. But he also knew that if she truly loved the boy then she would choose the scorpion.

He knew this and yet did not care. He wanted her to choose, he wanted her to lose the one person who brought her joy, he wanted her to feel pain. Of course, deep down in Erik's once living heart, he did not want to put her through that, and yet his love for her right now was blinded by the hatred that had spurred in him so many years ago. He needed her to go through the pain which haunted him till this very day. And... he was scared. He was scared, for the first time in his life, that Christine might willingly choose the grasshopper and send them all to their horrible ends.

Christine's eyes grew wide as she felt the shadows watching every movement of her frail body. Her hands were shaking violently and were coated in sweat, but she refused to meet his eyes, or to even look up on that face—that terrifying face which only the devil himself in the fiery pits of Hell could have conjured up! She clasped her hands together and focused on her breathing. It was shaky and uneven and, at this moment, it was the most comforting thing to her. How she wished she was somewhere else! Anywhere else! She wished that she was tucked up in her bed... A dream? Could this have all been a dream? No, she reminded herself bitterly. It was a nightmare. A living nightmare—and she was living it!

"Christine!"

Her eyes, which were wet and stinging from her salty tears, suddenly flung open at the sound of the voice which she knew and loved dearly.

"Christine!" the voice screamed at her again and Christine managed a tiny smile.

"Raoul?"

"Christine … can you hear me?" Her lover's voice chimed through the lonely walls of the lair.

"His time is running short, my dear." Christine snapped her head around to where Erik's voice came from as he chuckled darkly. "He cannot withstand the heat of the chamber much longer."

She felt a scream forming in her mouth but nothing escaped as she laid her eyes accidentally on Erik's unmasked marred face. She immediately averted her gaze from him so that she was staring at the little figurines below her. Erik stood away from her but kept a close beady eye on what she was doing. "Choose."

Resting her hands on the edge of the case which held the small models, Christine, as though something were pressing on her back, began to lean in closer and closer.

"Hmm," Erik's voice sounded again from behind her. "Christine's choice," he mused, clasping his cold hands together in front of him as he watched his love contently. "Yes, it was always going to come down to this. You knew it, did you not, my Christine? Of course you did, you were always such a good little girl." He chuckled again. "What do you offer for their lives, Christine? Hmm? You don't know, I hear you say? Oh, my, my. How about a love for a love? There! Now that sounds fair, doesn't it?"

Christine gulped and started to move her twitching hand towards the grasshopper. She shuddered at the very thought of being a captive for the rest of her life.

Erik drew his hand up to his face in fear of what she was going to do. Was she really that selfish that she would end thousands of lives rather than stay with him? She could not make the grasshopper jump! Her little heart was too pure!

But, to Christine, death never seemed so welcoming in all her life then it did at this moment in time...

But then her hand seemed to stop in mid-air. Her fingertips had just brushed the surface of the grasshopper and she felt just how cold it was. Her lover's cries for her came rushing back and she knew that she couldn't end his life. He was too important to her. She loved him too much. And so her hand travelled, much to Erik's delight, over to the scorpion and, with as much force as she could muster, she turned it.

A moment of dreaded silence filled the room and a rush of regret flew over Christine. She had never felt so alone in the world as she turned and saw Erik just standing there in the middle of the room like stone, unmoving and not even looking like he was going to free her love at all! "Raoul," she shouted. "Raoul, are you all right?"

Erik stood staring at the floor. Did she really choose him? No, he must have been dreaming. Yes! This was a dream and all of this would disappear and he would be left alone again. But she was so … so real.

"Let him go! Let him go!" Christine cried snapping him out of his thoughts. "Please." She dropped to her knees in front of him and clasped her hands together as if she was praying to the heavens. "Please," her voice failed her, "I will be your slave forever! I will stay here with you! Just please, release him! Have mercy!"

The sight of his love at his feet was enough to make any man weep. But not Erik, not now. "Mercy?" He scoffed. "I have none. Now get up, child."

She scrambled to her feet and frowned. "But, we... we made a deal! You promised!"

"Ha!" Erik's laugh echoed the walls and bounced back to Christine and then suddenly it hit her like a bad smell. The bargain was not specific. She had been too rash, too eager. "Oh, Christine." He moved a hand to stroke her face but as moved her own hand to she batter him away, she yelped as his fingers wrapped round her wrist. She let out a small whimper. "Sometimes I do forget just how naïve and young you are." He then looked not at her but at the chamber door.

"Christine… Christine…" Raoul's voice was fading and Christine could feel tears running down her cheeks.

"I said that he would be free, child," Erik turned his ugly face to look at her directly. "His soul, yes, but his body, no."

"What … what are you saying?"

"His soul will be set free but his body will be crushed by the water." He out his hand dramatically to his ear, listening. "Yes, it will soon be over. You shall soon be mine!"

Christine wept harder than she had ever done before. Where was a miracle when she needed one?

"What water? What are you talking about?" she yelled at the top of her lungs.

"Christine, I—" Raoul's cries were interrupted with the sound of a crashing wave.

"The water from the lake outside, of course." He pointed from the door guarding his lair to the chamber door. "Your lover will be drowned soon. It will be a quick death, I assure you."

Christine stood with her mouth hung open. She quickly wiped her tears away with her free hand and then started to slowly shake her head. "No, he... he cannot die!" Her eyes sparked red. "Liar!" she screamed as she began to hit Erik on his chest as hard as she could. "Liar! Liar! Liar!" she kept repeating as she belted him with non-effective hits. When her strength left her she went limp at Erik's grip. "Please … please."

Something suddenly changed in Erik at that second which made him release his grip on her and take a few steps back. Christine followed him with pleading eyes. "Please, if you love me, let him go."

He placed a hand to his chest as he felt a strange but unwelcome feeling arouse within him. Pity. He pitied the poor girl.

Quickly nodding his head, he took no time at all to unlock the chamber door, allowing the cold water and the Vicomte to flood the floor of his home. Christine rushed to her lover's side and held him tightly in her arms. He was alive, coughing and wounded, but alive none the less. She smiled contently, happy to be back in his embrace, and placed a sweet kiss on his wet forehead. Erik narrowed his eyes at the happy couple as he realised with bitter catharsis that this was the way it was meant to be. She would never have been happy with him down here.

A noise suddenly sounded from outside and Erik broke away from the entwined pair, trudging through the nearly ankle-high water to see what the noise was. "So," he hissed as he laid eyes upon the approaching gaggle of men. "They have finally come to drive the beast out."

Running back inside, Erik slammed the door behind him and, for the first time in his less than meaningful life, he did not know what to do, but as a loud bang echoed through the halls, he knew that there was no need anymore.

Stumbling a little, he then fell to his knees in the water, seeing the clear liquid mix with something dark, something fresh, something red.

Turning, he saw the boy standing strong with his little love behind him, a smoking pistol in his hand. He laughed at the sight of them and then coughed violently, his mouth filling with blood. But despite his position, Erik was still able to catch the small look in his love's eyes before they ran past him, a look that he would remember always. The look of regret.

"Christine," he rasped before a flood of angry voices met him.

Men crowded him and Erik allowed them to do so as he fell asleep forever in the darkness and met death as if it were an old friend.