(A/N: Hi everyone! I hope everyone is enjoying so far! I'm having a lot of fun writing this :-) Let me know if you enjoyed the chapter and I'll be back next week with more Phantom shenaningans!)

Christine felt herself falling as the ground disappeared from under her feet. Had Raoul seen something and tried to get her off stage? Just as the trapdoor shut, she heard Raoul scream. She screamed too, realising that Raoul was not there to catch her. Where was she falling? Could anyone even hear her?

But someone had caught her. The person immediately started running through a dark tunnel, an area of the school Christine didn't even know.

"Put me down," Christine ordered, her heart thumping.

But the person didn't respond. Christine gulped; if this had been Raoul, he would have put her down right away. Her heart started beating very fast. Where was she going? What was going on? And where was Raoul?

"I demand you stop and tell me where you're taking me!" Christine exclaimed.

"I'm taking you to my home," said the man carrying her, and with a jolt of fear, Christine realised that it was Erik.

"Erik," she said in dread. "What do you want? Can't you just leave me alone and take me back?"

"Perhaps you will understand in a few moments," Erik said mysteriously, his black hood falling back to reveal his masked face.

Christine frowned at the man who had stalked her for years. She couldn't see his face at all, but he seemed less frightening up close. If only she could see his face…

"Why do you wear a mask?" Christine asked curiously.

Erik shook his head frantically, as if he was a dog shaking off water. "I am a monster," he said sadly. "I hope you never see me without the mask."

Christine pursed her lips. If anything, his statement just made her more determined. What had happened to his face? Why would he say that he was a monster? Surely being a monster did not lie in someone's face but rather their soul?

"Why did you tell me that you were my Angel of Music?" Christine queried as Erik set her down.

"Because I can be," Erik offered. "I noticed that you were in need of an Angel."

"But – but you're not an angel," Christine said. "You're just a man."

"That I am."

Frowning, Christine followed Erik – she had lost track of which way they had come through the dark tunnels – up the stairs into the front room of a house. "Wait, where are we?" she said, confusedly looking around at the house. There were candles lit everywhere; but all the blinds were drawn shut so the entire house was shrouded in darkness.

"This is where I live," Erik said, almost shyly. "Do you like it?"

Remembering what Raoul had said about Erik being childish but dangerous, Christine backed away slightly. "Why have you brought me here?"

"You were going to run away," Erik replied simply. "I heard you speak with de Chagny. I didn't want you to leave."

"So you kidnapped me and brought me to your house so no one else can find me," Christine finished, feeling much more scared now. She looked for the doors in the house, but the front door's handle was broken off. Her mind immediately reminded her about all the serial killers who would trap women in their houses and then terrify them with locked doors, dead ends, and rooms with no windows.

Seeming to follow Christine's train of thought, Erik said, "I'm not going to hurt you, Christine. I just don't want you to leave."

"I wanted to leave because of you," Christine retorted, swallowing back any fear that she had. "You were stalking me and I didn't want to live my life in fear of you."

Erik looked very taken aback. "You're – you're scared of me?"

Christine raised her eyebrows. "Why would you think anything else?" she exclaimed derisively. "You've followed me for two years, sent death threats to my boyfriends, made Carly croak like a toad even though she wasn't sick, and talked to me where I couldn't see you in places that are supposed to be only mine. And you literally just abducted me!"

"I don't want to hurt you," Erik repeated.

"Well you sure as hell are," she snorted. "You sent a death threat to Raoul within an hour of me kissing him!"

Erik crossed his arms and said very coldly, "He doesn't deserve you."

"What, and you think you do?" Christine retorted angrily. "No one gets to decide who I deserve, and who deserves to be my boyfriend. That decision is mine."

Erik said nothing, but walked away briskly. A moment later, Christine heard him – or, at least, presuming it was Erik and no one else lived here – playing the piano.

Against her better judgement, Christine followed the sound of the piano into a very grand room with velvet seats and a grand piano. On one of the seats was a little music box that had a monkey with little symbols on it. Christine walked towards the music box and looked at the monkey sadly. The monkey looked captive, too; its smile was frozen and unfeeling, and its hands were held aloft in a stiff position. "We're both captives, I suppose," she murmured.

Erik was still playing the piano, completely oblivious of Christine's presence. Christine listened to the music, but she couldn't recognise the tune. It was almost hypnotic, and she found herself swaying to the music in a weird, rhythmic dance. She tried to snap out of it. "What is that you're playing?" she asked, in an attempt to get Erik talking again – and, perhaps, to get him to stop playing the music.

"I composed it," Erik replied shortly, barely stopping from his playing.

Christine sat on one of the little velvet pillows and stopped to evaluate her situation. She clearly couldn't get out of the house; none of the doors had handles and the windows seemed to have been glued shut. However, Erik did seem quite harmless. Perhaps, if she asked him nicely, she would be able to leave his house. Or, maybe, if she promised she wouldn't leave, he would let her return home.

"You know," Christine said musingly, "I'm going to fall very behind in schoolwork if I stay here for very long."

Erik didn't look up or acknowledge that Christine had even spoken.

"Schoolwork is really important to me," she continued, watching Erik's face closely. The problem was, she couldn't see his face. He might have made several expressions but she just couldn't tell. "And I might even lose my place as robotics team captain if I'm gone for too long. They were already angry that I had to take off a few nights to do Wicked. It's competition season for robotics, and I have to travel to London in a couple weeks."

"You'll be back in time for your competition," Erik said nonchalantly.

"No, but if my grades fall behind, then I won't be allowed to go to the competition," Christine insisted. "And if I miss two weeks' worth of school, then I will fall way behind in all my classes."

Erik said nothing.

Slightly frustrated, Christine watched him play piano before deciding that it was worth a shot. "I can't really leave anyways," she said. "I've got school, and exams coming up, and I've got robotics competitions. I really can't leave this town. I have too much going on."

Still, Erik said nothing. Christine frowned. She had almost been sure that promising to stay in town would make Erik return her.

Christine sat on the little velvet cushion and watched Erik play. She couldn't even see his eyes through the mask, which covered his forehead and the left side of his face. He looked maybe like he was in his early fifties, but she couldn't tell for sure with that damned mask. She had a wild idea that her father had faked his death but still missed her and this was her father, but perhaps the cancer had mutilated his face. And as soon as she had the idea, she dismissed it; there had been no reason for her father to fake his death. They had enough money and he had no enemies that Christine knew of. So Christine watched Erik, this man who she somehow knew but couldn't ever picture because he wore a mask.

Well, there was really nothing to lose.

Christine got up carefully, so as not to disturb Erik, and in one swift motion pulled off the mask.

Erik screeched and immediately went to cover his face, but not before Christine saw – sagging, torn skin that was red in some parts and pale in others. It almost looked as if he'd been burned, or as if he'd been the victim of an acid attack. There were veins sticking out from his head, entwining as if they were part of his brain. "Damn you!" he shouted. "You weren't content, were you? You had to go beyond your boundaries and look! Well here I am, the Angel in Hell!" He removed his hand from his face to reveal a pale eye with no pupil in it at all. "Here I am!"

Although Christine was shocked, it was Erik's reaction that scared her more. He wore a mask to cover up his face – and yet, Christine had seen plenty of people with strange faces who did not wear masks. She almost felt sorry for Erik, that he thought so dismally of himself that he felt the need to cover up his face with a mask. The mask made him more terrifying, Christine thought. Without his mask he just looked… human.

"Is that why you wear a mask?" she asked in a very small voice, turning over the white mask in her hands.

Erik glared at Christine. "Yes," he fumed. "Give it back!"

"Why? There's no need for a mask."

Erik's face suddenly brightened. "You – you think?"

"If it's something you were born with or something that someone did to you," Christine began, "then there's no reason for you to be ashamed of it. It took me a long time to love myself but I do now. But wearing a mask isn't going to help you get used to your own face. You need to love yourself."

Erik started to laugh. "So you do love me!" he exclaimed joyfully. "I knew it – I knew you loved me!"

Christine backed up. "Wait – what?"

"You love me!" Erik said happily. "You aren't scared of my face! You just said that you loved me!"

"I said that you need to love yourself enough to not wear a mask," Christine clarified, backing away from Erik as he started to run to hug her. "I don't even know who you are."

Erik stopped in his tracks. "But you do," he said earnestly. "You have known me for two years, Christine Daae. You understand now! I was shunned at birth because of my face but you – you have shown me kindness. You see my face and you do not find fault in it. You have accepted me."

"I just wanted to see your face," Christine said in a very small voice, crawling away from Erik.

"You must promise," Erik said, moving forward and grabbing Christine's hands in his sweaty, spindly fingers. "You must promise that you will no longer see Raoul. You and I have a love that cannot be put out!"

Christine yanked her hands out of his grasp and wiped them on Glinda's dress. "What the hell!" she exclaimed. "I've known Raoul since my childhood! I love him! You've stalked me – you don't know me, either. You just see who you want me to be." She backed away from Erik until she was as far away as she could be.

Erik sighed sadly and turned away from Christine. "We will see," he said. "We cannot return tonight, for it is too late. But we will return tomorrow morning."

"I want to go," Christine said shakily. "I want to leave now. Take me back."

"If we leave now, we will have to go back through the school," Erik said. "I cannot risk anyone finding me. I will be hunted."

"What, you think you'd be hunted because of your face?" Christine asked, raising an eyebrow.

Erik shrugged uncomfortably. "That and perhaps a few other things," he said enigmatically.

"Yeah," Christine agreed. "They may want you for kidnapping a teenage girl as well, you paedophile."

"I didn't kidnap you!" Erik straightened up and grabbed the mask from Christine. He put it back on and with it assumed a different, enigmatic air. "I am not what you claim I am."

"You took me somewhere against my will. That is kidnapping. And in case it hadn't escaped your notice but I was sixteen when you started stalking me. That's paedophilia."

Erik sighed. "We return tomorrow morning."

It was about as good as it would get, Christine figured. And she was scared of angering Erik even more. What had he done? He didn't seem to think that kidnapping her was a crime; so what other crimes had he committed? Maybe tax evasion, since he lived in a house with no doors and probably didn't pay electricity? Or – had he lured other young girls here? Had he killed them – or worse? Was Christine going to open a door and find the mutilated bodies of young girls in a closet?

She shook the thoughts out of her mind. Christine could only accept her situation, remain on her guard, and hope that Erik kept his promise. So she attempted to pass the time by staring at the monkey until Erik said that he had made her bed.

Christine gulped. She hadn't thought about this, and Erik was clearly delusional…

"Where am I sleeping?"

"The guest room," Erik replied, pointing her to a bedroom. "If you want to see my bedroom you are welcome to."

Everything in Christine's body and mind screamed no, but she found herself saying "sure". She followed Erik down the hall and watched him open his door to another room that had nothing but a coffin and a few blankets.

"You sleep in a coffin?" Christine said dubiously.

"It reminds me that I am living as one already dead," Erik said. "A bit odd, I will grant you."

"It's – yeah, I guess," Christine said, but as she walked away and into the room with an actual bed, she began to feel sorry for Erik.

"If you would prefer me to stay in your room, I can," Erik offered hopefully. "For protection."

"No," Christine said firmly. Clearly Erik didn't understand that Christine needed Raoul for protection from Erik. The last thing she wanted was Erik constantly around while she slept.

She was about to shut the door but realised that she could not: it was a swinging door that had absolutely no handles. If she slammed it shut, it just swung open the other way. Now slightly terrified, Christine got into bed but tried to stay awake. Everything seemed too odd, and Erik seemed far too considerate for a stalker. Okay, so he hadn't put her down when she asked to be put down; but he had refrained from laying a hand on her. But what was the catch?

Christine's attempts to stay awake failed, and she ended up falling asleep sometime in the early hours of the morning. She woke up when someone came in, rustling the sheets. Christine looked up and saw – no, it couldn't be – Raoul! Raoul had come to rescue her! He swiftly carried her away from Erik's lair and onto a train, to a grand manor, which he claimed was his house but Christine thought was surely Versailles. Raoul brought her to the fluffiest bed she'd ever slept on and he kept her safe in his arms. She woke up again, to Raoul cuddling her, and she breathed a sigh of relief; she was safe, in Raoul's home, and she had been rescued. They were both lying in bed while Raoul gently caressed Christine's side, and with a contented sigh Christine reached up to stroke Raoul's hair.

Her hand caressed a mask.

Christine screamed and sat bolt upright. She was still in her leotard, but she still felt completely naked. She wrapped the blankets around her and jumped off the bed, away from Erik. "Get out!" she screamed. "Get the fuck out!"

Erik jumped out. He was still dressed in all black.

"GET THE FUCK OUT!"

"Christine, my love," he said gently, attempting to reach for her.

"I AM NOT SAYING THIS AGAIN! GET – OUT!"

Erik seemed to have something on the tip of his tongue, but he didn't speak. He stormed out of the room, swearing as he went.

Christine was shaking everywhere and, for comfort more than anything, she took the blanket and wrapped it around herself, pretending that it really was Raoul right there to comfort her. "Raoul," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I need you." But he couldn't hear her. Of course he couldn't; he was far away, asleep in bed, probably exhausted from trying to find her.

The sun was just rising. In just a few hours, Erik would take her back if he kept his promise. But Christine still felt vulnerable and afraid, afraid that she would never see Raoul again, afraid that she would never be free again; and she sat down on the bed again and started to cry.