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12

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Christine pushed against the front door with her shoulder in one tight jerk forward and it flew wide open. They stepped outside and she shut the door behind them.

"I thought we were to reside indoors," Erik asked, wondering what she was up to.

"Well, if it's gone then we'll go back inside."

"If what's gone?"

They turned the corner in the fading sunlight and Christine squeezed onto Erik's arm. "It's still there!" She exclaimed happily.

"What is still there?" Erik asked impatiently.

"I hope everything's still inside."

"Inside of what? What are you talking about?" He demanded, annoyed.

"The old storage shed," She said, pointing to a small shack near the tree swing. Apparently they had both failed to notice its presence when they first arrived. "There should be a bed in there. Or at least a mattress. Or something like that."

Erik nodded to himself. He would be sharing a bed or a mattress or something like that with his lovely Christine? The thought gave him tingly feelings all over. He felt as though he'd have to sit down soon, or he'd collapse with his delight.

Christine placed a small hand over the shack's rusted doorknob and turned with all of her capacity. The knob turned several centimeters and offered a small squeak, but did not give away. She let go of Erik's arm and placed both hands over the knob this time, twisting with doubled capacity. But the knob was uncooperative. She let out a sigh and turned to Erik. He sensed her frustration and placed an efficient hand over the rusted knob. He turned with ease and the door opened with a rusty shriek. He stepped aside and put out a hand to gesture that she should enter before him. Christine smiled and did as was proposed.

As her eyes were adjusting to the shack's darker illumination, she felt Erik behind her and then heard the door slam shut, encasing them in the small room. The only source of light was a window at the wall opposite the doorway, which provided barely enough light for her to even see much of her own hands in front of her. The sun was setting quickly and if they were to become familiar with the insides of the shack, they would have to work quicker.

Christine bent slowly to the floor, eying the piles of junk that stood amidst. There were boxes all around, containing various items she remembered vaguely storing years ago. A large crate sat upon a raised surface, items protruding from its top opening. She placed her hands on the crate's sides, picked it up and put it on the floor. She surveyed the raised surface more closely, squinting in the poor light, and realized that it was a cot. She leaned her hands against its top and pulled herself to her feet carefully before extending a hand and pointing at it. "Here it is," She said, removing Erik from his thoughts and bringing him back to reality.

He had been leaning against the shack's thin wall, afraid he would lose his feet if he were to use them alone to support himself. He was so overcome by the moment and it was finally sinking into his head what had really happened; a revelation that Christine was with him now. She had chosen him willingly without any force. Why? Why would she do that? He wondered. Either way, however, it did not matter in the least. She was with him. And that was it. But one final question that he longed to have answered: did she want him as much as he wanted her right now?

He focused his vision on the cot. "I see," he said. An image of himself making love to Christine on the cot passed through his mind for a mere second and he broke into a cold sweat, ashamed of himself and worried that somehow she would look into his mind and see his forbidden daydreams.

He narrowed his eyes in concentration and stared at her long and hard, trying to figure out whether or not she had discovered his unholy imagery. Her lips moved in the formation of words but he did not pay attention. She threw him a puzzled glance and he swallowed hard.

"I said to come here and try it out," She repeated, annoyed that he was not paying attention. He seemed to be more focused on her than the sleeping arrangements.

This time he had heard her. He slowly peeled himself from the wall and approached the cot. It looked sturdy enough, even with its age. Perhaps even sturdy enough to carry out his wishes... the image of himself and Christine appeared once more and he flinched away from the cot, trying to rid it from his mind.

"What's gotten into you, Erik?" Christine asked, flustered by his sudden change in behavior. "Why do you keep looking at me like that?"

"Because I want you to be mine. Forever and always." He blurted out quickly, reaching out a hand and brushing the side of her face tenderly with it.

She was taken aback by the sudden change in subject. They had been discussing cots. How could it lead a discussion of the level of their association? "But I don't understand. I am already with you right now and hope to be forever and always."

"Christine, I want you. I need you. I need you right now... more... more than I have ever needed you before. I don't think I can control myself any longer. Say you'll have me."

She stared at him, speechless. He closed his index finger and thumb around her chin. As her mouth hung open in bewilderment and she had finally found the right words to say, it was too late to say them, for in that very moment her head was drawn in forward and her mouth no longer empty, but full of Erik. His soft, warm tongue moved about, somehow knowing how to work on every inch of her mouth as though he had traveled it thousands of times before. She place one frail hand on his shoulder and the other on his neck and began to return his affection, feeling somewhat guilty for him making her feel so much pleasure when she was not giving any in return.

Without second thoughts, Erik pushed her down onto the cot, hardly aware of his own strength, and climbed on top of her. He pinned her arms above her head, returned his mouth and tongue to hers, igniting a deep fire in the pits of her belly for his proximity. As well as her craving for his body, she felt a sharp pain in her torso which was not a pain of lust, but a pain from having been so brutally handled only seconds before. But she would be able to overlook it for the time being, as her feelings of eagerness seemed to outweigh her pain by a long shot.

Erik pulled himself from her mouth, leaving her with disappointing void. With a tug of a string, he removed the cape from her shoulders and it lay tucked underneath her body, attached to her neck no longer. He arched his back upwards and placed his lips on her neck, moving them along her sleek skin. She watched his head move, in sort of a warm trance. Then his head stopped as he reached the barrier of her dress and he turned his eyes to hers, as though embarrassed. She blinked at him several times, remaining silent. She was willing enough, it was up to him to make all decisions. He was in full control of her body.

He raised to his knees as stared down at her with uncertainty. She looked up at him, defenseless. Erik slowly brought his hands behind his head and untied the mask from his face, exposing the hideous flesh beneath. He brought his arms down and held the mask tightly in one hand, staring deep into Christine's eyes. It was one thing to offer yourself to someone and be willing, but another to offer yourself to someone truly exposed and still be as willing as you were when the exposition was shrouded.

Christine did not move a muscle. There was nothing wrong with his appearance, masked or unmasked and she didn't know why he had to belittle himself so constantly, always turning back to his hindrances and never looking at the remarkable talents which he possessed. She had no problem engaging with the deformity. But did he?

Finally breaking the stillness and silence, she raised a wavering hand to his shirt and unobstructed its opening by undoing each button in succession until it hung open loosely against his chest. She tugged on one of the sleeves and it slipped away from his shoulders and fell away, gliding down to the floor.

Knowing that her actions meant that she was still willing even if he was to be unmasked, he bent back down to her to continue in their passion play. Tentative fingers passed along the fabric of her dress, still uncertain as to whether or not they would be proceeding. Then, in a moment there were no more opportunities for turning back; Erik's hands had decided for him, slowly pulling her dress down to her waist, exposing her entire upper body. Her skin seemed to quiver under his touch as he placed a nervous, yet gentle hand on her chest. He ran both hands up and down along her waist and stomach. He had never felt something so soft before. He was feeling skin. He was feeling the skin of a woman.

The touch of his hands against her body made her breath come out in weak little spurts, her vision seemed to blur in a nirvana she had never before reached. His hands felt so right, as though they belonged there. They passed over her body, gently brushing her skin, making it tingle with pleasure. She felt a longing inside her that she had only felt once before and it had been when Erik had bandaged her foot in the woods and she saw him bare-chested for the first time. But that experience could not measure to what she was feeling within herself as of now. A new passion seemed to rise from deep inside and she developed the sudden urge to touch him. She longed to touch him as he was touching her, making him feel what she was feeling, stirring new sensations inside his body as he had done to her. Her hands seemed to ache, wanting to do just that. And before she knew it, she was. Her hands slowly moved over his tight chest, feeling his muscular physique, feeling a man as she had never felt one before. Her fingers barely grazed against his lower abdomen as they traveled lower towards the bulge that was unmistakable even in the low light. She felt herself touching it almost immediately and wanted to pull her hand back, ashamed, but then decided that it was what she was supposed to do.

Her hand over his hardness warmed with the heat that issued from deep within his body. She turned her head to glance upwards, into his dark eyes. He returned the gaze instantaneously. It was at that very moment that they realized what was to come next. They were both as ready and as willing as they supposed they could ever be.

Christine bit down on her lower lip as her hands passed over his manhood once again. She gently pressed her hand against him, causing a sharp breath to inhale from his lips. She placed her hands along either side of the waist of his pants and looked up at him once more. His eyes locked on hers and she held her breath as her hands lowered his pants.

The sight of him caught her by surprise, her breath becoming somewhat lodged inside her throat. She had never laid eyes upon the forbidden parts of the opposite sex and found them to be intriguing. Christine removed the remaining length of his trousers and they dropped from the cot and onto the floor, on top of his shirt.

Now it became his turn to free her of the remaining garments which hindered their passion. Erik passed his hands along her waist, moving them against her slowly, teasing her skin and leaving it covered in gooseflesh. His hands fell upon the skirts of her dress and he slowly pulled them down over her hips, past her legs (taking proper care not to disrupt her injury), past her feet until they did not cover. Her dress fell in front of the cot in a heap.

Both were no longer hindered by apparel; they were exposed to the gazes of one another. Erik lowered himself to Christine, planting his lips against the creamy flesh of her belly. He shrouded every inch of her with tender kisses, wanting the mood to be set properly. He had dreamed of this moment for so long and now that it was happening he wanted to carry through with it exactly as it had been carried through with so many times in his secret fantasies. Christine closed her eyes, unable to even move, the burning inside of her for Erik was so powerful.

At once, she felt Erik's lips upon her body cease and her eyes fluttered open. He sat up once again, staring down at her from his position. He placed his hands upon her hips and looked her in the eye. She stared him back in the eye, then felt her gaze begin drifting away and moving to the part of him that stood as hard and stiff as she had ever seen anything stand before. He was so big-- too big it seemed. She didn't know how he'd possibly be able to fit inside of her or how this would work. She didn't want him hurting himself.

Before she could think anymore thoughts about her capacity, he was gently parting her legs from eachother. He leaned forward and began inserting himself into her. There was a tightness inside of her that she could not explain and it felt as though she were about to explode. She felt his hardness glide further into her gorge and a deep, sharp pain caused her face to transform into a look of anguish. She regretted this now. All of it. She was in so much pain, she should never have allowed him.

A hushed breath escaped Erik's lips as he pushed deeper into his beloved Christine. She clutched onto the side of the cot, hoping to keep the screams which she wished to expel inside. When would this torture be over? She wondered, tightly shutting her eyes and using all of her concentration to keep her from screaming. Tears began at the corners of her shut eyes. Finally, as the pain dampened, she opened her eyes and let go of the cot, and realized that he was inside of her now. All of him. They were connected.

Erik leaned down to Christine once more and delivered her a long, passion-filled kiss. As he began pulling away, Christine pulled his head back and continued the kiss, wanting the moment to last forever. She cursed herself for ever regretting the decision to allow this. The pain was worth it, for now she was filled once again with the nirvana she had felt previously.

He wrapped his arms around her and gave her an affectionate embrace before beginning to move inside of her. He placed his hands flat on the cot's surface, on either side of her and began to thrust forward, rocking back and forth inside of her. The next moment, she did not exactly know or understand what was starting to happen to her, but she was enjoying it. She felt her loins begin to burn with a fiery passion and her body leapt forward in almost a stutter. Erik began to move faster within her, pants escaping his lips and the hot air brushing against her cheeks and forehead.

Just then, she reached a higher plateau than before. Christine did not want the feeling to end, she arched her back upwards, trying to intake all of what was being given and then she felt herself raise to an even higher plateau of pleasure, almost twice as more fulfilling as the previous had been.

"Oh, Erik," She moaned, now not making the cruel mistake she had made before by thinking of Raoul. In all truth, she had not thought of him since they had arrived at the cabin. And after this experience she probably would never even think of him again. Her face contorted into a look of total concentration and pleasure and she arched herself further.

Erik felt himself tightening within Christine. Their experience would soon be over. It was both sad and pleasureful at the same time to him. He only hoped they could share the experience together once again in their lives. He took in a deep gasp as he felt himself reach a plateau of his own and then he lowered his mouth to Christine's ear. "Oh, Christine. I love you," He breathed into her ear, never before having meant something so much as he had right then.

He took a few moments to catch his breath before removing himself from her. As he left her, she felt a certain disappointment and void fill her heart. She'd have to have him again sometime, there was no doubt about it.

He stood from the cot and retrieved their clothing from the floor, placing Christine's dress on her lap and his clothing on the corner of the cot. He slipped into his pants swiftly and placed his shirt over his shoulders. As he began buttoning the shirt, Christine only had started raising from the cot. She was so sore from everything she could not even move. There was an unpleasant stickiness between her thighs that she rubbed off tiredly with her hand. She slowly slid into her dress, feeling so weary, so exhausted, so used.

Erik finished buttoning his shirt and turned around to Christine, barely able to see her in the dark state of the room. But he could tell that she was in a very frightful composition and did not like it one bit. Perhaps it had not been such a great idea to inflict such stress upon her while she was so weak. He only hoped he had not hurt her. "Are you feeling okay, my love?" He asked.

Christine nodded slowly to herself, unable to turn her head to look at Erik, for all of her muscles were too weak. "Yes. I'm... I'm just fine--" She coughed, interrupting her speech, then continued, "I'm... I..." She coughed again, a rough, painful sounding cough. She coughed and could not bring herself to stop.

"Christine?" Erik asked with much terror.

She coughed more and then by the sound, it was as though there was something lodged in her throat. She coughed and choked on it uncontrollably and then it dislodged itself and came spewing from her mouth and all over her dress and the floor. It was blood.

Erik's heart sunk in his chest and he felt as though he would spew blood as well, but didn't. He picked her up in his arms and carried her to the door as she continued to cough, sometimes blood escaping from her mouth and splattering over their clothing. He turned the door's knob quickly and shoved the door out of their way with a jerk of his shoulder. They emerged from the shack, eyes adjusting to the brightness that the moon cast upon the air.

He inhaled and exhaled quickly, his breath coming out in hot clouds in the cold winter air. Erik turned to the large tree which supported the old swing and set off in its direction, all the while Christine expelling her vital fluids orally. Reaching the tree, he set her down gently on the ground, propping her back against the tree's large trunk. On his knees next to her, he watched as the snow in front of her quickly became red.

"No, Christine. No," he said weakly, tears beginning in his eyes. He lowed his head, looking down at the red snow with grief.

As though sensing his worry, her coughing slowed down and stopped. She turned her head to him, the tendons in her neck feeling as though they would snap. He raised his head and looked at her. Blood ran all along her mouth and chin, dripped down her neck and chest and covered her dress and the snow in front of her. Her eyes looked as though they were made of glass. He raised a hand and wiped some blood from her chin, the tears growing in his eyes. "It was not supposed to be like this. We were together, Christine. We were together."

She stared at him with her glassy eyes and opened her mouth, "I love you, Erik," she said in no more than a whisper, then began coughing up her innards once more.

The tears shrouded his vision and poured down his face wildly. He took her in his arms and stoked her soft hair, hoping that this was all just some sort of horrible nightmare. He had not meant to hurt Christine. She had just lost so much blood... too much...

He hardly noticed when the coughing stopped along with Christine's heart. Her body went limp in his arms, but he refused to believe that she was gone. She was still alive in his mind and always would be.

Raoul walked along the shrub-lined pathway and came to the old Daae cabin. He saw footprints in the snow which lead up to the front door's entry. The footprints looked fresh, but deep inside he had strange feeling that he could not describe, telling him that they were not inside.

He saw another set of footprints leading to the back of the cabin and decided to investigate these before going inside. He walked along the line of footprints, careful not to ruin them. Following the footprints with his eyes, the foundation of a black dwelling suddenly came into view. He raised his eyes to look at what lay before him and saw the old storage shack, the door ajar. Raoul gulped and stepped inside the room. At the sight of the disheveled cot and the blood that soaked the floor in front of it, he covered his mouth in horror, trying with all of his might not to regurgitate.

He closed his eyes, took in a deep breath and let it out, then turned around and stepped out of the shack, back onto the snowy ground. Tears came to his eyes, thinking of all the horrible things that the Phantom had probably done to Christine.

Sure that he would be able to hold his food down finally, Raoul removed his hand from over his mouth and stepped around the side of the shack. Not that far away he saw the large tree with the old swing that he and Christine used to play on when they were children.

As he began to approach the tree, several feet away from reaching it he saw the most horrible thing he'd even seen in his life: he saw the Phantom holding the lifeless body of Christine to his chest on the blood-covered snow, rocking her back and forth as he muttered some unintelligible garble through his tears.

Erik saw a shadow cast over himself and Christine and he raised his eyes to look at whoever the owner of the shadow happened to be. He saw Raoul, face deformed and deteriorated much like his own, tears streaming down his face without control, just as did his own.

Raoul fell to his knees in the snow, staring at Christine's blood-soaked body in Erik's arms. Then he turned his eyes to Erik and stared into the face of the man whom he dreaded so much. Only he was not overcome by feelings of dread any longer. He felt a remorse for the man, for he had loved Christine as well and now she was gone.

As they stared at one another's distorted faces in the moonlight, each man seemed to understand the other. But their understandings of eachother were not as prominent as the understanding that Christine Daae was dead.