Erik dismounted his horse and tied it up, along with Gustave's horse that he had found on the road. He dismally walked to the front door of his cottage, feeling defeated. He hadn't found anyone in the village that he could convince to help Christine. He decided that they would have to travel carefully until they could get her some medical attention. And once they were far enough way, Erik and Gustave could come up with a plan to permanently force Raoul out of Christine's life. Then Erik would have the opportunity to atone for all the pain that he had inflicted upon her. She would learn to love him again, once her "childhood sweetheart" was out of the way forever. As Erik approached the house he noticed that it was unusually dark inside. He listened carefully but could hear nothing, save for the rustle of the leaves on the trees. Erik easily made his way through the house, his feet carrying him silently to Christine's room. Lying unconscious on the floor was Gustave; Christine was nowhere in sight. Erik lifted Gustave to his feet and began to shake him violently.

"What have you done! Where is she!" Erik's furious shouts were more deafening and terrifying than the roar of a lion.

Gustave's eyes fluttered open and he let out a soft moan. He tried to rub away the dull pain in his head. He blinked his eyes hard, trying to bring the fuzzy room into focus, and looked into the eyes of the man who held him by the collar. In those cold eyes, Gustave saw nothing. Erik's face was devoid of all human emotion. Gustave feared what would happen to him if this demon found out what he had tried to do. In his mind he quickly formulated a story.

"Monsieur? What is going on?" he asked innocently.

"Where the hell is Christine?" Erik asked frantically.

"I came in here to check on her. It was pitch black. I…I called out her name. Something hit me in the back of the head. That's the last thing I remember."

Erik eyed him suspiciously. "I'm tired of being lied to. Tell me what happened."

Gustave looked around nervously, "That's the truth mon amie."

"I have enough patience to extract the truth from you monsieur. Do not play games with me," Erik said callously.

"Alright, alright. I came in here and I, er, I mean we…" Gustave stumbled over his words.

"For the love of God, stop stalling and tell me what happened!"

"Look, I was just trying to have a little fun. I would've stopped before I let it get too far. How was I supposed to know she could fight back?" Gustave exclaimed.

Erik roughly threw Gustave down onto the floor. "Take your men and get the hell out of my house."

Gustave scrambled to his feet and rushed down the hall, yelling to his men to wake up. They stumbled through the cottage, knocking over tables and furniture. In a moment they were all outside hurriedly mounting their horses. Gustave jumped onto his horse, grateful to be leaving unharmed. He was sure when he told Erik what he had done that he would be torn limb from limb, but the monster had let him go. Perhaps he was more compassionate than Gustave had originally thought. Too bad that would be his downfall; now Gustave would surely betray him to the Vicomte. Gustave kicked his horse and it started to run, but he suddenly felt something tighten around his neck. He was pulled backwards off of his horse and landed hard on his back. His hands flew to his neck as he struggled violently to free himself. Erik smiled an evil grin as he pulled the noose of his Punjab lasso tighter around Gustave's neck.

Erik leaned down to Gustave's ear and whispered, "See where all your wickedness has led you? Your life cut short because of your own evil deeds. It's a rather undignified end to such an illustrious man, I think. At the very least, a terribly painful end. In your last moments of life, you're going to think about what you did to her, and to me."

Gustave's desperate attempts to escape were slowly diminishing as his life slipped away. After a few moments, his body went limp. Erik removed his lasso from Gustave's neck and went inside. In his room there was a carved oak chest. Erik lifted the lid and removed a sword, the handle formed in the shape of a skull. He knew that Raoul was not going to give Christine up without a fight. Erik pulled the sword slightly out of the sheath to examine how sharp it was. He remembered the last time he had used it, a battle lost in a graveyard. Things would end up differently this time. He forcefully thrust the sword back into the sheath and ran outside to his jet black horse. In one swift movement he jumped into the saddle.

"So this is it Vicomte. Only one of us can have her heart. It ends now."