A/N: All right, so I know I've been sooooo absent lately and am now suddenly posting phics, but things are slowly calming down in my classes, and I've felt so inspired lately! I've been playing around with this idea for a bit, and I hope you enjoy! :) I already have Chapter 2 written, but I'll wait for reviews until I post it ;) Enjoy, loves!

"Eleven o' clock, or everyone shall be dead and buried!"

His voice clawed at her mercilessly, as her heart raced with absolute terror. What did he mean "dead and buried"? How could everyone be dead and buried? The girl's frail mind couldn't grasp an answer.

Once at the peak of her singing career, Christine Daae was now a heartbreaking sight. Her blue eyes shined like a pool of blue sorrow, while her petite body trembled with fear. With a flushed face, she scanned the room in desperation, looking for any possible means of escape.

Nothing.

Nothing but stone walls greeted her gaze. The only way out was the door from which Erik had emerged, and even now it seemed as if that door had melted back into the harsh walls; she wasn't even sure of its whereabouts anymore, and the anxiety was rapidly devouring her. The walls were closing in. She couldn't breathe - were her lungs collapsing? No, she was quite sure they weren't, but oh, it felt like it!

Emitting a frustrating shriek, Christine grasped the roots of her curls, wishing nothing more than to rip them out.

She had to escape. She had to leave. She didn't want to die, nor did she wish to be the cause of so many others' demises.

But... was death her only escape? Surely there was another way out! A door - a door - where was that God-forsaken door?

Her wide eyes rested on a spot on the wall. The stone called to her, entreating her to move only a few inches nearer... only a few more. Frantically, she leaned her palms up against the wall. A coldness travelled from her hands, coursing through her body. This was her door - this was her escape. Rearing her head back, she struck the wall harshly with her forehead.

A stabbing pain. Her head began to throb. She could feel the blood trickling down the crevasse of her cheek, as if it were trying to cool her newfound fever. Dizziness. Everything was spinning. Weakly lifting back her head again, she struck the now-red wall with the same spot on her head.

More pain. Her body grew weaker. This headache was far worse than any she had experienced before. She attempted to strike a third blow, but she instead dropped to her knees, her body crumpling against the wall. Her blonde ringlets now streaked with scarlet, everything within her sight blurred. She was so close... so close to successfully escaping this madness.

A sardonic laugh fled from her pale lips, soft and bitter. She had won! She had beaten Erik! Erik: the infamous Phantom of the Opera! He was a magician, composer, architect, ventriloquist - a genius. And she? She was merely a young, orphaned soprano, yet... she was the victorious one! The student had triumphed over the teacher!

The room around her was darkening. Her eyelids were becoming heavy... oh, she was so close... A distant figure was suddenly approaching her, dark and unrecognizable. She heard a faint voice - a voice that was familiar to and welcomed by her ears. It was gentle. It was loving. It was filled with worry. It was her Angel of Music!

"Oh, Christine!" It desperately pleaded in the gentlest of tones. "Don't leave me, my dear... Stay with me... Darling Christine, oh, my darling... Why, Christine, why?"

"Angel, I knew you'd come for me..." She whispered softly.

"Oh, what have I done, Christine? I'm so sorry... so sorry..." Distant tears.

"Angel, I've waited so long for you to come for me... but you're finally here..." Her once-ethereal voice was now broken and weak.

A pause. Cool hands brushed away a strand of hair, caressing her cheek. "Everything is going to be all right, Christine. Shhh, I'll never leave you..."

An even more indescribable pain seized her, as she clutched the hand that caressed her. The grip of the hand that comforted her grew tighter, as the Angel's voice still cooed into her ear, "Shhh, my love, shhh..."

"I'm coming, Papa..." She breathed one final time, everything within her collapsing.

With her tiny body curled up in his arms, Erik's grieving tears bitterly mixed with the blood that surrounded them.

And unable to explain why, Christine Daae stood over the two, watching the sorrowful sight.