Erik's POV

If there was one thing that America had that France didn't, it was illness. As soon as the weather cleared and was replaced with warmer temperatures, an outbreak occurred in our section of the city. Workers and actors in Mr. Alberetz's theater became ill, vomiting and coming down with severe fevers. It spread like wildfire throughout the city. I had been lucky enough not to catch whatever it was, but my angel had not been as lucky. As soon as I noticed the entire city walking around with the disease, I took into action, keeping us locked away in our apartment to stay out of contact with the ill. Soon, the theater was closed down, vowing to stay that way until the epidemic passed. I was glad, for it kept the infection away from our sleeping quarters. I wasn't sure how such a disease was passed on, but when my angel came down with it, I realized that it must have been in the food. It was the only explanation, for I hardly ate. Though, now that my angel was pregnant, she ate almost every hour.

She had been pregnant for nearly two and a half months now, and I feared that this illness would take a toll on her body. Already eight people had died from it and left hundreds of others laid up in bed. To be safe, I boiled our water and held off from buying any freshly cut meat from the butcher. Now that the theater was currently closed, I stayed by Christine's bedside, attempting to scare off the illness that had taken over her poor, fragile body.

"Angel, you should drink this."

All color had been stolen from her body, leaving her pale and sweaty. I lifted her lifeless head and placed the glass of water up against her lips.

"Every drop, Christine," I cooed.

It was hard enough to get her to drink, but I forced it down her throat. The baby needed to be kept hydrated, the baby needed to be kept nourished. Yes, I still wasn't happy about her pregnancy, but I knew Christine wanted this child more than anything in the world. Therefore, I would care for the both of them until she was able to take over once more.

"I'm boiling some medicine for you to take," I assured, fixing the blankets that were tucked beneath her bed. "It will make you feel better."

My angel didn't say two words to me, only closed her eyes to rest. I had to think of something, I had to help Christine… If this virus were eating away at her body, it was most likely eating away at her insides as well. It could hurt the baby… But I couldn't send for a doctor, for I heard what they were doing to the ill. I heard that they were forcing the sick to stay together in one room so they wouldn't infect anyone else. No, I refused to have my angel treated like that! Whatever this was, wasn't contagious by breathing on someone…If it were, I would have been ill days ago. No, this infection was contagious by ingesting it. Oh, but those fools were too stupid to know.

"Erik, I'm…co..cold."

When my angel spoke to me, I rushed to her side, tossing another blanket over her body.

"Rest, Christine." I begged. "Everything will be all right soon."

I stayed by Christine's side for days, praying to her father most of the time to cure her. And just like everything has a beginning, it also has an ending. It was a long storm, but the calm finally arrived, leaving my angel well again. Though, the illness had weakened her…

"Christine, I believe you need to see a doctor." I said, placing my hand upon her forehead. "You're weak."

"I just need to rest is all." She replied. "I'll be fine."

"Everyone is well again, Christine. But you're not…Look at you, you're still dreadfully exhausted. Think about the baby, Christine."

"I'll be all right."

"In that case, would you join me tonight for dinner? I believe it's safe to eat at the restaurants again."

"I am a bit hungry."

"Good, I'll call a carriage if you're too tired to walk."

But my Christine stood up and assured that she were fine.

"Let's just stay in the area tonight." She said, pressing a small kiss to my cheek. "I don't wish to travel to the outskirts of town any longer."

"Agreed."

When we were both ready to go, I walked arm in arm with my angel outside. Oh, it seemed like we hadn't breathed in the fresh air for what seemed like decades. My angel begged me to open the windows at least every second of everyday during the epidemic. Though, I refused, being afraid that it would make her sicker.

"This is nice, isn't it?" I asked.

"Yes, it is."

My angel didn't have much to say, for I knew she was tired. Though, what I didn't know was that my worst nightmare was about to occur. I wasn't sure why it happened, but as we were crossing the road to approach the pub, my angel's body fell limp on the street. I gasped and scooped her up into my arms, wondering why and what was happening…

"Christine…"

As I held her, I felt something warm and sticky begin to drench my arm that was supporting her. When I looked down, my heart stopped within my chest when I noticed that she was bleeding. I didn't hesitate a single moment, carrying her at lightning speed to the nearest hospital. Christine was awake again and well aware what was going on…Though, she was complaining about pain, searing pain that was erupting within her stomach.

"Christine, it's all right," I frantically assured. "Everything is going to be all right…"

I ran through the hospital doors, calling for help at the top of my lungs. My angel was pulled from my arms as I was left standing there covered in her blood.

"She's been sick…" I cried to one of the doctors. "She's nearly twelve weeks pregnant…"

But it was as if no one were listening to me, for the operating room doors swung shut. Oh, how I stood there pacing back and forth, my sleeves stained in red from when Christine bled on me. Oh, what was taking them so long…I must have asked every doctor that emerged from the operating room about Christine, but none of them had any news or awareness on her condition. It was three in the morning now, three and nearly four hours after handing my angel over to them.

"Mr. Mulheim?"

When I heard my name, I turned to find a doctor coming through the doors.

"Yes?" I frantically stood to my feet and adjusted my shirt, waiting for the news on my angel.

"Could I speak with you in private?"

"Of course," I gulped, following the doctor through the operating room doors. He led me straight to an office, where he motioned me to sit down. Oh, I was on edge!

"She was sick with the virus two weeks ago." I confessed. "She had what everyone was catching in New York. I should have brought her here sooner. I…I only wanted to take her out to dinner tonight…I shouldn't have done it."

"Mr. Mulheim, I can assure you that your wife's fainting had nothing to do with the virus she had."

"What are you saying?" I gasped.

"Mr. Mulheim," the doctor looked down at his paperwork, a concerned expression displayed across his face. "The reason why Christine passed out in the streets tonight, was because…because she lost the baby."

My heart sank within my chest. "What?"

"I know this isn't what you want to hear, but there is no easy way to put it."

"So it was because of me!" I growled. "I caused this…"

"I don't understand what you're saying…Sometimes things happen, Mr. Mulheim. Sometimes women lose their first child."

"Why? What caused her to lose it?"

The doctor shrugged. "It could have been a lot of things. Then again, sometimes, there isn't an explanation for these sorts of situations."

"So, it wasn't because of the epidemic?"

"No, not at all. This was going to happen whether she had become ill or not."

"What do you mean?"

"Well," the doctor looked up at me once again. "I can't be one hundred percent certain, Mr. Mulheim, but it seemed as though the child had been deceased for a few days. A girl…though it looked as though she had some sort of facial deformity…Perhaps that is what caused all of this."

My heart was bleeding! Facial deformity? My child had been hideous! So hideous that it most likely caused an infection, one that killed it… I was heartbroken, heartbroken and disgusted with myself. It felt as though someone had taken a knife and tore out my heart.

"Your wife is going to live though… She will need her rest, but the good news is that she will pull through."

I stood up from where I was sitting, my insides screaming over and over again. I wanted to die! I wanted to kill myself for what I had done to my angel. I didn't deserve her…

"Come, I'll take you to her room. She can leave as soon as she feels up to it."

Christine's POV

I didn't remember much after passing out in Erik's arms. There had been a lot of pain in my stomach, but other than that, there wasn't much to recall. When I woke, my head was pounding, but there was something else as well…I felt empty…I felt as though there were something missing. My heart stopped dead in my chest the moment I placed my hand over my stomach to notice that it was flat again…Yes, I had only been a few weeks pregnant, but before I had passed out, there was a tiny bump…

"No," I mouthed the words over and over again as I sat up in the bed I had been placed in. No, I couldn't have lost my child…

"It's true."

When I heard Erik's voice, I turned to see him sitting in the chair beside my bed. He looked as though all life had been knocked out of him. He wasn't even showing any emotion…His face was so stiff, but his eyes were wet with tears.

"What are you saying?" I cried.

"I killed it…" he murmured. "I destroyed your child."

He slowly rose and turned to stare out the window.

"Erik, that's not possible."

"She was deformed…" he cringed. "Hideous…An infection! That's what killed this thing…My traits, Christine!"

A girl…I had been carrying a daughter…My daughter… Tears welled up into my eyes, hot tears burning down my cheeks as I sat there silently crying. Erik wasn't even sad…he didn't shed a tear for this child that we had lost. No, he stood there at the window, coldly blaming himself. A part of me had died, a part of me had been torn from my life.

"It had nothing to do with how ill you were two weeks ago. The doctor even mentioned that it's possible the thing has been dead for days, decaying in your womb…I'm sorry, Christine…"

He apologized so harshly, that it was as if he didn't even mean it, as if he were angry at me for even allowing him to give me what I wanted. And then, he said the words that sickened me to the core.

"I told you this would happen, and yet, you didn't listen to me."

Those words had hurt…it was as if he were blaming me, blaming me for something I had no control over. I wanted my husband to cry with me, I wanted him to hold me and tell me that everything would be all right, and yet he left the room, slamming the door shut on his way out. I was begging my husband for compassion, begging him for love, and he had none to give.

Erik's POV

I had been too soft, too soft and too caring. I had once been known as the "Trap Door Maker," in Persia. In Paris, every last patron and employee of the opera house were frightened of me. For Christine, I had put all my rage and coldness aside, but it had all gone to waste. No, I couldn't do this any longer. I couldn't be this loving and caring man…I needed to be harsh with her, I needed to be stern. The opera ghost was what kept Christine in line, and I would see it that things returned to that direction. Music was all we needed, and music was what we would have. Our marriage didn't need to extend another millimeter… I walked around our home, my heart bleeding and screaming out in pure hysterics over what I had done to Christine. But on the outside, I was like a turtle, my surface hard and immortal. Ever since Christine returned from the hospital, I already had it within my head that I needed to leave the theater. Working here was too much of a risk, therefore, I only planned on staying a while longer, just enough to make enough money to put a down payment on a small house. Afterwards, I would work on selling my music, perhaps even make an attempt to run my own theater.

"You've hardly said two words to me." Christine mewed as she approached my desk. "Ever since I came home from the hospital. You've been treating me like ice…"

"I've been treating you no different than the way you should be treated."

"Why are you blaming this on me?"

"Should I be blaming myself?" I coldly replied. "It is my fault, is it not? I caused that child to turn into a monster."

"Erik, please…"

Christine placed her hand upon my shoulder, but I turned and grabbed her wrist violently.

"Don't touch me, Christine."

"Erik, what's gotten into you?"

"No, Christine, it's what's gotten out of me. I'll tell you what… I've been soft, too soft with everyone including you. In Paris, I was the infamous opera ghost. Everyone feared me…But then, when I married you, I became this gooey lovable monster. No more! From now on, I will be the opera ghost, and you will like it."

"Erik, stop this…"

"Why don't you get back into bed." I growled. "You've been told about how you need your rest for the next few weeks."

"I married you because I loved the person that you have become."

"No, Christine," I growled. "You married me because we were arranged by gypsies. You didn't have a single say in any of it."

I heard my angel begin to cry, but I did not turn to face her.

"You'll come to like me this way, Christine."

Her crying did not stop for what seemed like hours. I believed that the only reason it did cease was because she fell asleep. I wasn't sure what time it was, but was knocked out of my trance by a knock at the door. I had been sitting at my desk for hours, the hour being foreign to me. Deciding to answer the door before it woke Christine, I pulled it open, only to find Lana standing there. I was about to open my mouth, when she placed her hand across it to shush me. Oh, I would have strangled her, if not for the loud voices occurring from downstairs. Curious, I walked to the stairwell and peeked over the side, seeing Mr. Alberetz speaking to someone…But wait, I knew this man…Blonde hair, handsome…Raoul!

"So, monsieur, I'm looking for that man." He replied. "Has he been around?"

"Usually Erik works during the day. I don't know where he goes to after that, but most of the time, he's upstairs in his room working."

Damn him! I hurried back into my room with Lana and closed the door gently, as not to make a sound.

"He just showed up out of nowhere…" Lana confessed. "He looks like trouble."

"He is the definition. He's here for Christine…"

There was a small wine cellar in my floor, and I knew it would be safe. Quickly, I removed the small carpet where the trap door was and pulled it open.

"Erik, what's going on?" my angel gasped as I lifted her off the bed.

"You need to stay quiet, Christine, as quiet as a mouse…" I warned.

"But, Erik…"

I didn't listen to her, only shut the trap door, before throwing the rug back on top of it. I could hear footsteps coming up the stairs now, leaving me with only a few seconds to spare.

"Lana, don't let anything happen to Christine." I said, gripping her shoulders. "Don't let that despicable man near her…He'll hurt her."

Before Lana could say a single word, the door was forced open and in marched three men along with Raoul. They pulled me away from Lana as I fought against them.

"Ah, a whore?" Raoul cried. "I should have known better."

He gripped Lana by her shoulder and evilly smiled. "I spared you, woman…Consider yourself lucky."

"Let her be!" I growled. "Don't touch her."

"Where is Christine?" Raoul demanded.

"I told you months ago that I didn't know where she was."

"We'll see about that, monster…"

Raoul motioned his men to drag me to the door. Oh, I fought against them as much as I could, but they were too strong.

"Take the demon out back," Raoul ordered. "Find a nice wall to pin him up against, so that he doesn't have anywhere to run to."

Raoul pulled Lana by the arm as she fought against him. "Hush now, darling. I wouldn't dream of harming you. You'll want to see this."

And then, Raoul said the words that stopped my heart forever more.

"I know Christine is around here somewhere, but first, take him outback and shoot him."

DUN DUN DUN...Yeah, I know that was a lot to take in during a single chapter, but I promise that things are about to look up...