Chapter 6- Angel of Music

A/N: Just a note; I took the name Durza from Christopher Paolini's Eragon. I thought the name was awesome and that it would fit the character perfectly. So, credit goes to him on that one! The rest is MINE- all MINE! Muahahahahaha! erm... well, it's not actually mine, given the fact that Andrew Lloyd Webber owns rights to the musical, and the original book technically belongs to gaston leroux….. but whatever….


To her despair, Christine felt herself regaining consciousness. She had passed out to the sound of the gypsies' wild chanting and her dreams while she had been out had been a fervent whirling of colors, and the songs of their strange tongues...

Lying there alone (or at least, she thought she was alone) Christine thought of what the gypsy had said to her. A moment of true love... she thought. That was why she was here. Her love for Erik had been her damnation.

But it's all wrong, she thought. I don't love him... I love Raoul!

Her hand automatically moved to her throat, where she wore her engagement ring still. She hadn't put it on since she had left the Opera... she had told Raoul that she needed time...

I love Raoul, she thought resolutely.

She could practically hear her mind laughing at her scornfully. If that's true, her intuition informed her, then you wouldn't be here now, would you?

She tried to tune out the voice in her head, but it persisted.

You know that he still haunts you... You know that you dream of him every time you close you eyes... You know that you wish for a second chance, that if you could go back...

But there is no going back, Christine thought. No chance of returning.

She suddenly felt very alone- more alone than she had ever felt before. How would she live down here? She asked herself. The creature- the gypsy- had said that she was damned for all time...

The thought of living here forever made Christine's soul tremble with fear. She would go mad in this place of death, of that she was certain.

As the minutes passed, madness itself seemed to be sitting with her in the room; her only companion in the Hell she was trapped in.

Some time later, she was fully frustrated and on the verge of tears, she began to speak aloud to herself.

"Darkness," she said. Her voice was soft, and it seemed as though she was afraid to break the silence. "So much darkness down here. So much cold. The air smells of death..." she laughed to herself. "Perhaps I have died. Perhaps this is my fate... my punishment for some sin that I have committed." She raised her eyes. "Is there life up there?" she cried out in anguish. "Can anyone hear me?" Angry tears stung at her eyes. She lowered her gaze. "No," she told herself. "No one can help me. No one even knows where I am? Raoul can't help me..." She drew her knees up to her chin, like a small child. A few more moments of silence passed, and then she began to speak again, though this time much more softly. "Where is my Angel of Music?" she whispered to the darkness. "Where is my guide, and my guardian? Has my voice finally passed beyond the point of his aid? Have I finally lost my last hope?" she whispered fearfully. Her tears fell harder and harder. "Father promised me that you would always be there!" she sobbed. "He promised... you promised... you promised me! I wish you were with me now... I'm frightened of this place!" Still only silence responded to her pleas, which became more frantic as she cried even harder. "Angel, please... hear me! Don't let me die here! I'll sing again... I'll sing for you if you save me! Angel... Angel... Erik!"

Her screams echoed throughout the labyrinthine tunnels, but they did not fall on deaf ears...


In a room far away from Christine, the gypsy who had spoken to her earlier heard them, loud and clear, as though Christine were standing right next to him. The poor girl was a pitiful creature, he thought. Her cries were those of a lost child, and children irked him. Soon, though, he thought, she would be educated on the meaning of horror and torment and pain.

"Durza..." a spectral voice floated on the air.

The gypsy turned his death's head toward the figure in the doorway. Another corpse-like man entered the room. "Everything is ready, my lord," the man said, bowing slightly.

Durza nodded. "Good. Everything is set. I am sure that Erik will come, and when he does... we'll be ready for him."

"Shall I proceed, then, my lord?" the other gypsy asked.

Durza sneered, his red eyes fixed on the heart of the flame of the candle before him. "Yesss..."


Christine was still crying much later. Though she had no time conception down here, she knew that hours had passed from the time she had awakened. She felt strangely removed from everything; her spirit felt as though it were hovering above her body, watching her helplessness from somewhere far away.

Her senses had dropped, and she didn't hear the deliberately quiet movement in the dark as someone entered the room where she was. When she finally became aware of the presence, she looked around, but saw nothing. Thinking it was an illusion, she closed her eyes... until she heard the sound of breathing.

Her eyes snapped open to the sound of a snarl. She shrieked in terror as she felt something grab her by the wrist. The last thing she saw was a pair of glowing red eyes, and then the world went dark...


A/N: and even stranger it gets! you guys will never guess what's going to happen to Christine... tis a bit morbid if i do say so myself. any guesses? suggestions?

Lots of luv to all who reviewed- reviews keep me going!