A/N: well less of a wait for you this time and i'm quite excited to bring this chapter to you so please let me know what you think! this is pretty much the end of part 2 of the story, i'm so happy with the response it has been getting considering it's not exactly what people go looking for when the think phantom and fanfiction. anyways thank you, thank you, thank you! you guys mean so much to me!

She remembered seeing the girl, so helpless, lost within the black labyrinth. How could she resist? She had watched as the girl trailed ever farther into that damned blanket of sunless night, her fear growing with every step, her trembling increasing with each passing moment; Christine found it hopelessly intoxicating.

Such a pure creature, the girl, so innocent in her simple dress, and youthful grace; it was so easy to follow her, watching her every movement as she took one wrong turn after another. More than once Christine had wished the girl would go the other way, the way that would lead to her freedom instead of continually tempting her, unknowingly provoking Christine with her childish mannerisms.

It was just so easy to step forward and call to her, to smile in the back of her mind as that glimmer of hope glinted in the girl's eyes. She was the perfect victim, and it had been so long since Christine had tasted human blood; how could she possibly be blamed for taking such an indulgence when it offered itself so exquisitely before her?

She had dumped the body in the lake, weighting it down with lose stones and bricks. It was so simple and no one would ever find her. Christine couldn't help but wonder how many other bodies occupied the lakes depths, how many victims Erik's sanctuary had claimed.

But the guilt! It was unbearable as always. How could one live with such acts so heavily staining their hands? When the voices from beyond constantly echoed into her thoughts, how was it possible to even so much as live? Yet there was Erik, the living embalmment of everything she told herself she condemned during life, still alive, still with hope. He had survived.

One question after another pored unbidden from her mouth, daring him with every passing breath to answer those wretched questions that could only lead to condemnation. What had possessed her, she couldn't say, but if she wished to live with herself another day and not be continually tempted to bind herself under the suns purging rays, she needed to know and so she asked.

And he answered.

And he knew.

What agony it was to admit her failure to him, she who had always been his one source of purity, his one salvation. To have fallen so far, what did that mean for him? What new level of hell did she sentence him to? Was he to believe that everything he touched became eternally damned? Was his touch so displeasing? What hell had she condemned them both to now with her stupidity in coming here and burdening her fall from grace upon his worn shoulders?

But he had accepted her.

He had kissed her damned flesh with reverence. He had asked her forgiveness for staining his lips with her pain. God, if one could describe the emotions that wrought through her body in that instance! In that moment alone did angels truly exist.

But everything had been a daze. Every thought, nothing but a moment of insanity, every feeling only a blind grasp for sympathy and understanding. In the end what meaning did it hold? Raoul was dead and she in the seventh level of hell, only too happy to be sharing it with another. Selfish, as always, but at least not alone.

Christine wasn't sure how long she lay there but she was positive there had been no noise from the other room in quite some time. She could not stay here like this, mourning her own life; she would not wallow in pity for her choice.

With a stretch, the girl rose from the bed and made her way towards the door. She would grab a book; that was all. She would prove she was not afraid and simply grab a book. Innocent, non provoking, and meaningless; if he were to see her, nothing could be made of her actions.

The door pushed open with the simplest touch and Christine was once again free of her chamber. Beyond, the bookshelf. As soon as she took the first step from her retreat, the girl became all too aware of Erik's presence just a little outside her door.

Christine walked purposely towards the collection, doing her best to ignore the man standing just a few paces away from her, standing frighteningly still, and watching her with an intensity which made her feel disturbingly exposed and vulnerable.

She did not look but knew his eyes followed without the slightest waver as she made her selection and began to walk back to her room. Such a presence could never be truly ignored but she did her best and closed the door quickly behind her, letting out a long held breath.

She had only just sat upon the bed when her door opened. Erik never entered her room. This was her one sanctuary from him, yet there he was standing coldly in the entrance, his eyes burning with a fire which could easily be either passion or hatred, the two were so intimately intertwined between them, it was impossible to tell.

Their eyes met, Erik's cold but on fire, Christine's looked away.

"Christine, come here." His voice sliced through the silence at once, sending a tremor to her bones.

She obeyed without question. A voice in the back of her mind screamed that he had no right ordering her to do anything, that she was ten times as strong as he, but it was so easy to just let him take control, reality was much too exhausting for conscious thought.

Christine approached him with tentative steps, keeping her eyes carefully averted to anything but his strong, forceful form, hovering just before her.

"Look at me, Christine."

She did, though reluctantly and his eyes bore into her with so many unspoken words. How could she ever think she was in control here? Because she was, even if it were for only a short time. She had completely unnerved him with her odd behavior and that had given her power. But now…

Erik grasped her wrist in a firm hold and began to pull her slowly from the room.

She had kissed him. It was that act alone which had undone any strength she had against him and he knew it. She had kissed him and it wasn't to save anyone or herself. With that kiss, she admitted she needed him.

She followed silently as he pulled her towards his room; making no acknowledgment of her presence till they had entered and he had firmly closed the door behind them. With smooth, graceful steps he moved beside his coffin bed and made a slight yet unquestionable gesture towards it.

"Sit," he ordered shortly.

Again a voice inside her screamed at his arrogance to command her, but her body couldn't refuse and she perched herself upon the edge of the lustrous black surface where she had seated herself days earlier.

"Since you so wisely chose not answer me last time, I will reiterate my original question. Undoubtedly you are here due to necessity, therefore it is reasonable for me to ask what it is you are willing to offer for your stay in my home."

Christine glared at him as he spoke every word with that steady, indifferent, calm he could infuse in his voice when he was planning something. Obviously he didn't expect her to answer with anything he found acceptable and Christine resented him all the more for it. He was going to use that kiss against her to its full potential.

After some thought, she decided to use his own tactics against him and answered as monotonously as possible. "If there is anything you wish of me, take it, as I have already said. But since you've said you don't want me, I really don't see what I have that would be, ah, appeasing to you."

She finished her sentence with a sneer, wondering how he would twist that against her as she was sure he would.

Erik smirked at her, pacing shortly in front of her. "I wouldn't say that," he began carefully, betraying the first subtle hint of emotion. "That bracelet for instance. I think I would like that."

Christine gasped, tucking her arm close to her body. How could he know about that? But it was obvious he did. How could he possible ask her to give that up? Her last link to Raoul, it was all she had left!

"You, you can't. I can't give this to you." she mumbled, cradling her arm tightly. Erik gave her a questioning look. "I, I can't."

"But it's only a piece of jewelry. Simply a strand of metal, hammered out by some unknown peon, with a few rocks pressed in. surely such a thing could not be so invaluable as to risk your life for?"

The bastard was gloating, and she knew it. "I can't, Erik, and obviously you know why."

Erik shrugged before walking steadily towards her. "Everything up there was once yours, Christine, but down here… well, everything down here belongs to me."

After staring at the platinum band, Christine looked up at the man in front of her, meeting his eyes bitterly as her hand unclasped the chain. And just like that, the bracelet fell into his out stretched hand while Christine looked away, a few unbidden tears creeping from the corners of her eyes.

His hand brushed them away as he became ever closer, too close.

"You've made your choice, Christine."

She nodded, hating him.

He turned her head to face him and descended closer. "I want to hear your answer, Christine."

"I…" What was it he wanted her to say? She looked into those golden eyes, merely a few inches in front of hers, waiting for her. The coffin's surface became ever the more present beneath her as the funeral drapes and macabre candelabras sat provocatively in her peripheral vision. Death. Was he asking her to accept his death with her?

No, that didn't make any sense at all. But what was he asking her? What was the reason for all this? This was simply his world, the way in which he lived, the way in which she would live.

"I'm waiting, Christine."

Christine swallowed hard, pushing all thoughts of her former life away. They no longer mattered. "I belong to you," she breathed at last, no longer able to meet his eyes.

"I don't believe you."

Gasping audibly Christine looked back at him, hurt fully imprinted upon her form as she began to tremble. What more could he want? Didn't he have enough? Tears again pricked her eyes and her breathing became uneven with frustration. She wanted to yell at him, scream that he had won, but she doubted that that would give him the answer he was looking for. God, she hated him. Couldn't he tell she loved him?

Christine scowled and with that thought firmly imprinted in her mind, she flung her arms around his neck and pulled him to meet her lips in a tight embrace. To hell with what once was, she more than loved him; she needed him. Christine kissed him long and hard, swallowing her sobs and pushing all bothersome voices from the back of her head away.

Nothing mattered. She was in his kingdom; she belonged to him, what ever else happened up there, was no longer a concern.

Erik, with growing confidence, moved his arms around her, carefully holding her to him as she sat there, lost. Gently his lips moved over hers, conditioning her to his touch and coaxing her to deepen their embrace.

With her vision swimming before her eyes, Christine leaned back against the coffin, pulling Erik with her, the awkwardness of their position not at all hindering him as his hand began to explore her sides and hips while their bodies drew ever closer. His lips trailed slowly from her lips to her jawbone and to her earlobe, while his hands trailed ever upwards, causing Christine to gasp and sigh as her eyes were drawn to the chambers ceiling. She had never truly noticed the pointed arcs he'd used in construction of this room. How very gothic she thought as she threaded her fingers through his hair, moaning slightly as his mouth made its way down her throat and pressed against her heavy pulse.

Oh how she wanted him to bite her. To feel his fangs tear that delicate piece of flesh and plunge deep within her, filling her with that exquisite feeling of pleasure and pain, which only accompanied a vampires kiss. To feel her body's heat flow into him as he joined them together as one being, their hearts beating as one in complete rhythmic unison while life washed from her to his cold flesh and he buried his head against her neck.

At last, when she felt she could take no more, his mouth once again found hers and she relished in his release. But it was still not enough. She wanted to have him, all of him. He had taken her to far to deny her this, and she could only give him the same in return.

Erik gasped the as pain shot into his neck and Christine firmly clasped herself against his warm flesh, moaning while hot thick liquid flowed between her awaiting lips, losing all conscious thought and falling hopelessly into a state of indescribable bliss.

Please R&R

you all hate me now don't you?

well i didn't lie, i did say he would find out...