Alright. This little thing has been in my head for awhile and finally I've decided to write it down. I don't own POTO...sad isn't it? Please review all those out there. Ta muchly!

Tick….Tick….Tick…

Sitting in the "living room" that was made up to look as any other in the world even if it was 5 cellars below the world, Christine looked around the dimly lit room trying to find the clock that was making that sound. She had been down in the dark abyss for a long time, but how long, she had no idea. The days wound together and she had no idea if it were morning, noon or night in Paris anymore. If she could just locate the clock, she would at least have some kind of clue as to when it was. Not only that but she was sure that knowing one thing that would always remain steadfast, Time, would help her keep her sanity in this world of night.

Scanning the area around her she saw no signs of any clocks. All around her were many gadgets and things from other lands. From the Persian rug, to the Indian elephant statues, to the books containing stories from the ends of the Earth and back, there were many things that should capture anyone's interest, but it was not what she wished to find. There was no clock over the fireplace as there would normally be, nor a grandfather clock in the hall marking the amount of money one had, nor even in any of the rooms she was allowed in.

Erik must have a clock somewhere. How else would he get to the operas on time, every time? Or meet me in my dressing room for my lessons? Besides those reasons, I hear the ticking of a clock!

Christine decided to try to follow the noise, though it was difficult with the echo that the caverns made. Pressing her ear against Erik's door, she was sure that was where the noise was coming from. She put her hand over the knob and slowly opened the door hoping to stay quiet so as not to disturb Erik and suffer his temper. Before she could stick her head in through the small opening she had made, the door flew open. Falling to her knees, Christine looked up at the towering man in formalwear who had a majestic air about him as well as a death's-head mask over most of his face. Only the man's stern jaw and golden eyes were shown. This man was the king in this kingdom of black darkness. His entire being showed the motif of death and the power that comes with controlling it.

"Erik!" Christine squeaked while backing up. Her doe eyes widened in response to seeing the man who had brought her down to the 5th cellar and the house by the lake.

Glancing down at her with an expressionless face he asked her in a silky voice which did not match the dread he induced in all he came in contact with, "Christine, what were you doing? There is nothing in my room to look at other than a coffin."

"I was just-" She stopped. The ticking was stronger when he was around. "Do you have the time?"

"Why?" was the response she received.

"Because I wish to know. Erik, one must know the time…it is the only accurate thing that someone can rely on," she said nervously. She wanted to know how long she had been stuck in this pit of hell with him. The dark had always scared her, and with no other person around, she needed something to keep track of or she was certain she would try to rid herself of this place by smashing her head against the wall again.

"You are correct my dear. Time is all one has anymore. Everything in the world is always late. Operas are late due to tuning and actors, dinners are late because of cooking…everything is always late or early. Only two things are ever on time…" the walking skeleton mused.

"Two?"

"Yes two. Time is never early nor late…it is Time and always will be on time! The other my dear is death. One cannot stop death from coming. It will take you when it wants and there is a certain time for that. Understand?" he asked while walking into his living room, the abode of a nightmare and death.

"Yes Erik…" Christine answered wearily. She despised when he would think things out in circles, creating too deep of a meaning that she would never understand.

A smirk appeared on the Phantom's face. His boney long pale fingers reached into his waistcoat to take out his pocket watch. Yellow eyes looked upon the face of the clock, the only face that would not look at him in disgust and fear, and his head nodded.

"Eight twenty-five, mon ange," he told her while dropping the watch into his pocket again.

Christine nodded and let Erik through. After a moment, she followed him. Once he sat in his throne, she kneeled in front of him, looking up to him again.

"Do you wish for a story?" he asked her unsure of why she wished to be there at his knees of all places.

"I wish to know why you do not have any clocks about your home Erik," she said softly, wanting to understand why.

"It's simple really," he said with a chuckle. "I need my watch and no other. It's simply wasteful to have anymore. This one is here so that I can time my death. Isn't that what every clock is for?"

A pause came between them as she stared at him. He was timing his own death? It was one thing that he surrounded himself with death, but to wait for his own was something farther than she wished to think about. Did he wish to die? What if he did die while she was there? She would be trapped! Panic began to rise in her.

"Christine, calm yourself. It is simply my way of doing things," he chided. "Come along…I must get you to your dressing room. I expect you to go home and rest. You have a jolly big day tomorrow."

Christine nodded knowing that she would have to work hard tomorrow since the season was starting soon. Everyone in the theatre was in a rush anymore, and she needed to get ready also. She followed him into his gondola so that he could take her to the Rue Scribe entrance. After a quick nod of thanks she turned and began for her home. Before he left her sight, she saw Erik check his watch again and clutch his chest lightly. How strange.

Erik paced back and forth on the lake shore. After checking his watch for the tenth time he shook his head. Turning back, he went into his nightmarish home and proceeded to take out his anger on every object that reminded him of his love. Drawings were ripped, music was thrown, chairs were broken until everything in his house was destroyed.

Pain! All he could feel was pain! His heart felt ready to burn within his chest and his lungs could not get any air. A howl of anger and anguish admitted from him like a wounded beast. He had been deceived by the only woman he would ever love.

"She promised me! She promised that she would be here at 11!" he sobbed. "It is now 11! I told her many times before! 11!"

The Ghost had told her multiple times. He had said to her as she sobbed over him, gently kissing his cursed head that he loved her. She wanted to please her poor Erik. So, being the man that he was, he gave her two options to have. If she should return to him, even after all he had done to her, the Vicomte de Chagny, and the Daroga, by 11 in the evening, they would be wed as true husband and wife until he died. That would give him a few months of happiness which he had been searching for for his lifetime. The other option, which he had told the Daroga after she had left the first time, was that she would come back to bury him with his ring so that in death he could be happy. However, he did warn her that he would die at 11 if she did not come.

He could not tell the Persian this little extra option, for he would do anything within his power to stop it. A mob would be sent on him yet again, as well as have the Vicomte trying to capture him. All this was not needed, for it was just an agreement between himself and his beloved Christine.

All was lost for it was 11! He promised that he should die at 11 and no later unless she was there! Stumbling to his supply of herbs, he found what was needed; a bottle of poison. This time there was no choice between a grasshopper and a scorpion. There would be no hopping jolly high or otherwise. Erik would die at 11.

"Christine, I love you," was all that escaped the Phantom's twisted lips before he tilted back the poison down his throat which used to produce the most beautiful music.

Not much time was left. Taking with him all he wanted buries with him; his masterpiece Don Juan Triumphant!, Erik pushed himself into his coffin. The world would finally be rid of his damned existence and he could take his place in hell where he belonged. With one last effort he looked at his watch. 11 o'clock. Death could be timed perfectly.

Christine made her way down into the dark lair. She called out for her teacher, fearing that a mob had come without her knowing. Assuming this from the chaos about the place, she searched for him. Finally, the only room to check was his bedroom where that horrible coffin was. Still, she knew that she must go in. Turning the knob she looked around, finally resting her gaze on the coffin. Erik was in there.

At first she thought he might be resting, for she knew he had a bad heart. After shaking him slightly, she realized that he was colder than he had ever been. Realization hit her and her eyes grew wide. The man before her was no longer the Living Corpse, but a true dead corpse. Backing up she slid to the floor with a blood curdling scream.

She checked her small gold watch again to see what had gone wrong. He had told her that she must be here at 11! Her tiny watch told her that it was 10:55. Why was he dead? She had checked her watch with those all around town to be certain that she would not leave him to his depression. It had been her hope to give him his peace for a few months, and she was there to do it!

Reaching into the corpse's pocket for the little pocket watch he kept, she noted that it was stopped at exactly 11. That was the moment that she realized that Erik was wrong. Death could not be timed on that watch…for that watch was 5 minutes fast!

"Erik is dead," was all that could be whispered in the room where her heart and voice once soared. Now, her beautiful voice was gone…along with her teacher. All that could be heard in the room now was the thing on her wrist...

Tick…Tick…Tick…