Disclaimer: I do not have the pleasure of owning Phantom of the Opera.
Left in darkness
"Make your choice!"
Through the exhausting ride of anger and despair, between yells of hate and sobs of pleas for mercy, Christine fleetingly contemplates the man who is tied helplessly to the iron gate. Her symbol of freedom has been defeated and turned into a mere bargaining tool to serve the relentless demands of a madman. She cannot excuse him entirely for the pitiful position she finds herself in. She warned him but he failed to listen. His intention was noble. All the same, the foolishness of his scheme has cost her dearly; she is now condemned to the life of darkness, to suffer the fate of becoming a bride to an unstable murderer who may never forgive her betrayal.
Betrayal. It is a strange concept. Raoul has presented it as an inviting option – a means of escaping a dark passion that would consume and eventually abandon her. Surely, he wouldn't mind her using it against him? He must have known that once a traitor always a traitor. If Raoul truly loves her as he says he does, he would continue to love her even after her heartless choice just as Erik still does. She will live with her freedom and memory of being unconditionally loved by two men till her dying day.
Quietly, she announces her decision to the man whom she once regarded as an angel. His eyes widen in disbelief. He is lost for words at this unexpected turn of events. As Raoul watches in nervous apprehension, Erik's shock subsides, and a long suffocating silence poisons the air they breathe till it is finally replaced by a hysterical laughter that echoes about the heavy, oppressive air.
Raoul misinterprets his captor's response as her consent to becoming a bride to a monster. He protests in a hoarse, strained voice. "Christine, don't. It will be the death of me if you choose him."
"I know, Raoul," she replies in an equally strained, but somewhat resolute voice. She feels overwhelmed with pity for both men, but knows that they cannot be saved. She is not supposed to protect them in any case. It has been and always will be the other way round. "You love me so much that you will end your own life if you lose me to him. I cannot let you burn in hell for eternity. That's why I decided to follow your wishes. You want me to be free, and that's what I have chosen. I will always love you. I will never forget you. Oh, my poor love. I … I will pray for you."
"I am sure you have made him a happy man, my dear," Erik observes coldly. "Now, leave before I change my mind."
"I love you, Christine," Raoul whispers, more out of a habit than a conviction of eternal love. She throws one last glance at him with resigned sadness. He watches her go, and a sense of relief at his triumph over his enemy bit by bit dissipates along with the tension created by the uncertainty of his situation. He believes now with conviction that he is going to die. Fear grows in his weary mind, making him temporarily forget the unrelenting cold and discomfort to which his body was made subject. Grimacing at his helplessness, he hears the despairing sound of falling rocks behind the gate and knows that no one will reach this cursed place let alone to save him from the certain death by his unfeeling enemy.
Raoul waits, feeling quite alone. Even the thought of Christine's freedom and the gratitude and love she must be feeling for him fails to help ease the dread that is spreading through his veins like wildfire. Death does not come swiftly. Instead, a low chuckle surrounds him, mocking his heroic fate.
"Happy now? You taught her well. She has betrayed both of us. My beautiful traitorous Christine."
"I taught her nothing but the value of freedom," Raoul retorts angrily.
"Indeed," Erik scoffs, full of contempt. "You taught her to see nothing else."
"Why don't you just kill me, monster?" Raoul spits, hoping to provoke his adversary enough to bring a permanent end to his misery. Waiting for death is worse than death itself.
Erik, however, is not in a merciful mood. The rope around Raouls' neck tightens, just enough to make him suffer horribly. With tears in his eyes, the young man grimly realises that he is the prey that Erik likes to toy with before the kill. His foe has too much time in his hands.
Carelessly releasing the rope, Erik investigates the bruise on Raoul's neck with a twisted smile on his lips. He does not care what the foolish boy thinks of him. Raoul is not Christine.
"That was my plan all along till I learned that she could not love." He laughs a mirthless laugh. "You have destroyed the most beautiful illusion I've ever had. I lived for it and was willing to die for it."
Erik looks at Raoul as a child would look at a new toy that it does not know quite what to do with. It did not want the toy. That much is certain. A part of the child wants to destroy the plaything. Another part wants to explore it, to find out what it is capable of. Raoul is the only thing that Erik is left with in the aftermath of his shattered illusion.
"I could spare you," Erik whispers, the venom in his soft voice causing Raoul to shiver visibly. "A fool as you are, you can be courageous. I will give you that much. However, it is not enough to save your otherwise worthless life. You must prove your value to me."
As much as Raoul wants to say something horrible back, he cannot forget the pain Erik effortlessly caused just moments ago. His courage has deserted him. He understands there is no right to dignity in this prison. He can only despise himself because he now wants to live. With no sight of Christine who would appreciate his gallantry, the silent desire for life has come back with full force at the realisation that death in the near future is not the only possibility open to him.
Icy fingers hold Raoul's chin and lift it up, forcing him to stare into dark eyes.
"She gave you to me," Erik purrs. "All I ever wanted was a companion, someone who would appreciate the breathtaking beauty I created in this lifeless, black dungeon I call home. I wanted her like I wanted nothing else, and she left you here as a poor substitute. You think I would despair, no?"
Raoul does not answer. He knows he is not meant to. He feels weak and does not know how long his legs can support him. All he wants now is warmth and rest. He doesn't even care about Christine in his wretched suffering.
"She has released me from the servitude, which is now your fate. You see I don't care about you at all, and you are stuck with me," Erik murmurs sweetly. "From now on, you will have to earn every little kindness from me. You will have to beg for every little favour for which you need my co-operation. I will break you, Vicomte. I will not be gentle."
Fresh anger rises inside, and Raoul hears himself manage to utter words of defiance and hatred, which come across rather pathetic and promptly earn a harsh slap across the face. Both of them know it is only a matter of time that Raoul will be reduced to what Erik decides to see him become. He cannot take comfort in the fact that the heartless monster no longer desires to see him dead. His instinct for survival is now his worst enemy. He will fight it with all his might, but nothing will come of it except the pleasure of delaying Erik's daily triumph just a little longer.
Christine. Raoul silently asks a question that will never be answered, a question that Erik no longer solicits. Why have you deserted me?