A/N- PART TWO!
Disclaimer: The Phantom of the Opera is not mine. All relations come from Mr. Gaston Leroux's novel The Phantom of the Opera. All characters that appear from this point and time in the story however are mine.
Chapter 37
Erik had fully freed himself, his eyes filled with sheer hatred. In one quick motion, he cracked his neck and unsheathed his sword that hung around his belt.
Charles tightened his grip around Christine, causing her to cry out in pain.
"Let me go!" Christine kicked and squirmed in his deathly restraining hold. She squirmed just enough to sink her teeth into his opposite arm.
He dropped her massaging his forearm.
As Christine ran to Erik, he opened his arms to her, whispering in her ear, "Go to the organ room Christine and lock the door."
She nodded ever so slightly, running hastily to the room of the left, shaking involuntarily. As she ran, she secretly scooped up the abandoned Punjab.
The door slammed behind her just as Erik smashed his weapon into Charles knife, causing it to fly across the room, wedging itself into the ground.
In a panic, the murderer, fumbled with his cutlass, blood dripping into his eyes, stinging. Once he had it firmly in his hands, Charles slashed it unskillfully, stumbling forward. The Angel Of Music blocked the fluctuation, grabbing the grip of his opponent's blade, forcing it closer and closer to the abhorrent face he loathed.
"You…will…stay…away…from…her…" Erik hissed angrily into his brother's ear.
"Never!" her gasped struggling from the position he was in.
Mr. Cavanaugh was thrust to the ground, his sword in the hands of the Opera Ghost, the tip of his own weapon resting frightfully at the base of his neck, a foot pressing into his stomach.
The man gagged, coughing up blood, spitting it onto the floor. Erik flipped him over with the other sword, tying his hands behind his large back with the rope that had cut his ankles and wrists.
"Please…" the imposter croaked. "Mercy."
Erik laughed hatefully, "Mercy. Is that what you'd like, mercy? I'd like a lot of thing, a handsome face for one, but we don't always get what we want do we?"
The Phantom kicked the man crumpled on the floor in the ribs, "Do you like to be tortured?"
Charles shook his head.
"Taste the bitterness of what I've been through my whole, insignificant life, Mr. Cavanaugh. Torture and lost love. I've loved over and over, and I will not accept the fact that you have hurt my Angel. For that you will pay."
"Please, I'll leave and never come near her again…" for the first time in his life, Charles Cavanaugh had the underhand over his brother and was thoroughly afraid for his life. "Please."
"Honestly, tell my why on earth you'd think I'd let you go? Are you daft?"
"No." Charles took a deep breath, "I know how much you love her and visa versa. Your, your all she could talk about for a while."
Erik looked sternly down at the tied up man.
"Please, Erik. Please let me go and I swear to you that you will never see or hear of me again." Charles sincerely meant it too. Some where between seeing Christine look at Erik and being tied up, he realized Christine could never love him, and Erik could see that.
The Phantom bent down and untied the man quickly, jumping to his feet readying himself for another attack, but none came. Charles brushed himself off, and headed for the door, dragging his feet behind him, his mind jumbled with thoughts.