I should have mentioned that I usually take weekends off from writing. I try to make the most of the summer…my other stories were written when it wasn't this nice out…
I'll have the occasional update over the weekends, but not often…
A special thank you to Erik's Angel...possibly my most supportive fan...if you have the time, click on her name in my review section and check out her fan fiction...
Now…on with the show…
-Nico
Imminent death does strange things to a person.
Even stranger things to a person who already died once before.
As the gate closed down upon Christine, her immediate reaction was to panic…to grasp as much breath as she could before becoming completely submerged in the icy waters.
As her head went under, an eerie calm flooded her body. She almost immediately went limp, realizing that struggling would simply make her last moments on earth more horrendous.
Images began to flash through her mind…she saw herself dressed in a tremendous pink gown, gracefully sweeping across the highly polished ballroom floor of the Opera Populaire, a heavy engagement ring around her neck. She saw Raoul's laughing face in front of her, holding her tightly as they privately celebrated their upcoming union.
As quickly as the memory came, it faded into something darker…blacker. She felt the clutch of gloved hands upon her waist…felt herself turned around, he back against a man whose mere presence intoxicated her. She felt his hands roam over her tightly corseted body as they stood together on a makeshift bridge high above the stage.
She watched in horror as her hand found the edge of the man's mask, revealing the deformity that separated him from the human race.
Even as she suffocated, Christine's body hitched on a sob.
And then, everything was dark.
Christine's dressing room was empty.
Immediately, Erik's mind assumed the worst. Had she fled? Had she already fallen in love with a cast member and was spending the night with him?
Then, suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that the large mirror that led to his once home had been disturbed.
"Christine..." he murmured, wondering what it was that had driven her into the depths of the opera house once more.
He moved through the entryway, surprised that, even after all this time, he was able to navigate the narrow, murky hallways with little to no visibility.
For sometime, he heard nothing but his own breath and footsteps.
Then, a horrible sound filled his ears.
The gate…the trap he had set all those years ago…it was deploying.
He immediately burst into a full run, knowing that it was only a matter of minutes before Christine would be killed…drowned by a contraption that had been built with his two hands.
Please, He prayed silently, please let her have made it across…please don't take her from me…
Again.
As soon as Erik reached the pit, his heart lurched. After only a moment of surveying the area, he could see the form of a thin woman, draped in white…
Completely motionless under the ice water and trapped by a large, rusty, gate.
Erik found the lever that would bring the gate back up, hidden within the folds of the stones that made up the walls of the caverns.
He grasped it, trying to push it up.
It didn't move.
Panic swelled within his breast. Raw, unbridled emotions coursed through his veins, fueling his muscles.
With a pure animal roar, the lever began to budge beneath Erik's straining body.
After a moment of this, the lever gave way, lifting the gate with painfully slow motion.
As soon as there was enough room, Erik jumped into the icy depths, plunging below the water to grasp Christine, whose limp body had drifted to nearly the bottom of the deep pool.
Grasping her water-logged form, Erik quickly maneuvered the metal ladder leading to the undisturbed portion of the walkway.
He laid Christine gently on the stone surface, immediately pressing upon her chest, forcing gurgling water from her lungs.
She remained still, even as the murky liquid escaped her mouth.
Erik quickly shrugged off his heavy coat, allowing him to work more diligently on his patient.
Trying to ignore the thudding of his own heart, he leaned down to listen for hers.
A flicker of hope ignited.
The painfully slow sound of Christine's heart could be heard through her cold chest.
With eternal time on his hands, Erik had studied nearly everything he could…including medicine.
Reading about something and actually doing it, however, were two different things…
Erik placed his fisted hands on Christine's breastbone, pressing down in three sharp thrusts.
More water emerged from her lungs.
After the third thrust, Erik lowered his lips to hers, breathing life into her cold body.
No response.
Again he repeated the process…and again…
Tears began to well in his eyes as he lowered his mouth to hers again, breathing into her through a sob.
"Christine," he called, his voice carrying unavoidable urgency. "Christine…wake up…please…"
He thrust on her chest again, a bit more forcefully.
Just as he lowered his mouth to breathe again, she moved.
Erik watched as Christine's face twisted into confusion and pain, her eyelids fluttering open.
He could not prevent the thankful smile of relief that crossed his face.
Christine looked up at him, her wide eyes blinking away the sheen of death.
"Erik," she said, recognizing him. "Erik…where am I…what happ…"
A series of violent coughs racked her small body.
Erik helped her onto her side, where she promptly retched up the remaining water from her lungs.
"Shh," Erik soothed, gathering her into his arms as she wept from the shock her body had just been through. "It's alright now…you're alright."
He held her, sitting in the dark, both soaked and cold…both weeping…
For entirely different reasons.
"I thought I had lost you," Erik murmured against her matted hair. "I thought I had lost you again."
Christine lay against the strong man holding her, too weak to pull away or respond.
After some time, Erik rose, lifting Christine along with him.
"Where are we going, Erik?" Christine asked softly, her chest aching from his life-saving efforts.
Erik looked down at the woman in his arms.
Her lips were blue; the delicate skin under her eyes was smudged with dark shadows. Her thick brown hair was mussed about her pale face, winding and twisting across Erik's chest and arms.
"You came down here for a reason, did you not?" Erik asked, his voice still soothing and knowing.
Christine nodded, staring at his liquid blue eyes intently.
"I see no reason you should not continue your journey, Christine," Erik informed her, turning back the way they had both came.
"But…you're going the wrong way," Christine pointed out. "Your home is in the other direction…across the lake…"
Erik shook his head. "There is nothing down here for you," he informed her. "Or for myself."
Christine rested her head against Erik's broad chest. "I just wanted to see the seat of music's throne once more…just once more." She murmured, her body becoming too tired for consciousness.
Erik smiled.
"That is one request that may still be granted."
