Bells sounded from the distance. Christine stood, her nearly bare shoulders gently blanketed by ice-cold snow, yet the pain from the stabbing white flakes paled immensely next to the pain that tore at her heart as she gazed ahead.

"Raoul--"she called out to a figure in the distance but her throat closed at the effort. "No, Raoul, no…"she whispered, desperation rippling through her. The Phantom stood close to her, his overpowering presence suffocating her. His great cape danced around him and swept her back, sending shivers racing down her spine.

"Let her go! For god's sake, let her go! Christine!" Raoul cried, rushing over. His face was lined with terror and terrible anxiety. For a moment, Christine was held down by the Phantom's suffocating presence, but suddenly, she tore herself away and fled to Raoul's side. He drew her close and she leaned against him, falling into the embrace. For a moment, the pain deep inside her healed. She could feel his heart racing beside her own, could feel his heavy breathing, and could sense the inexpressible feeling of comfort and love that flooded his soul now. He held her tightly, his cheeks pressed against her forehead---unwilling to part, frightened to let her go again. He had come so so close to losing her to Phantom's threatening spell so many times; he couldn't think about it. His slender fingers gently stroked her skin. The unspeakable ache sank deep through the core of his heart to his bones.

Suddenly a fireball flew across the snow-covered ground. Shock grasped Christine, and she backed away breathlessly, her grip on Raoul's hand tightening instantly. Her lips trembled uncontrollably.

"Bravo, monsieur! Such spirited words!" cried the Phantom's harsh, fiery voice. He was merely a few feet away. In his hands clutched a long black lance with a skull speared upon it. A ball of flame skidded across the snow again and landed by Raoul's ankles. Christine jumped away, but Raoul made his way to the platform on which the Phantom was standing. He turned to look over his shoulder at his dear Christine, mouthing her name, as if promising her everything would be all right.

"Let's see, Monsieur, how far you dare go!" roared the Phantom. Christine felt her knees slowly began to weaken as she watched. She extended her arms helplessly, and then buried her face inside her frozen hands.

"Raoul, please, come back!" she cried out, but her voice was caught in her throat. Desperation now took her so fiercely, she knew she would lose control soon. The horse on which Raoul had been riding whinnied far behind her. Christine's entire body tensed, her eyes focused on the two battling forms, her mouth and mind both in silent prayer for Raoul.

"More deception? More violence?" Raoul spoke fiercely as he walked slowly, resolutely towards the half-crazed Phantom. His head was held high yet his heart shook.

"That's right, monsieur; keep walking this way!" the cold, eerie voice now had a tremulous, furious edge. Christine shook her head, blood rushing through her body, her heart beating at a frightening speed.

"You can't win her love by making her your prisoner," Raoul told him, sadness enfolded within every inch of his voice. A prisoner, thought Christine. How true. Only you, Raoul, can take me from the prison behind which I am locked. Oh, but the Phantom—he too had once released my voice, my heart, from a prison.

"Raoul, don't…" she said, tears streaming violently down her face. Her head throbbed and her vision was clouded. All that stayed clear now was the wound inside her soul. When, when would peace mend my world?

"Stay back!" bellowed the masked phantom, his eyes cruel and threatening. But for a second, Christine thought she sensed sorrow as deep as the ocean in the words.

All of a sudden, a cry of pain filled her ears and her eyes flew open. Raoul was on the ground, a deep wound gushing with blood in his left arm. Christine screamed, barely able to breathe.

In an instant, she was at his side, tears rising inside her with each heartbeat.

"Come on, come on, monsieur. Don't stop, don't stop!" continued the ferocious, taunting voice. Christine raised her head, hatred burning.

"How could you?" she mouthed. His eyes suddenly softened and he turned his face, as if to beg forgiveness. Pity welled inside her heart as she saw his pained, pleading look.

"Oh god, Raoul. Take my hand. Let's go, please," she said, struggling with all her will to stifle her sobs. Her thin fingers brushed his wound, and his eyes closed. Then his strength seemed to suddenly return. His strong hand took Christine's and he led her to the horse. As she walked, she turned her head to glance at the Phantom, and just as she did so, she saw the hurt look in his face. Loneliness, bitterness—misery—and hopelessness seemed to hit him all at once as he turned away to Gustav Daae's grave.

Numbly, blindly, she allowed Raoul to lift her into the horse's saddle. She couldn't face this anymore. No. No. She couldn't do it. She felt him leap on behind her, wheeling the horse around.

As they rode higher through the snowy dawn, Christine clutched her beloved Raoul's hands tightly, her fingers shaking with the pain that racked her body.

They rode for nearly an hour before the Opera Populaire's dormitories came into sight once again.

They were inside soon enough, and the warmth of the bright flames from the fireplace had never been so comforting.

"Are you hurt very badly?" Christine whispered, kneeling besides Raoul. His face seemed creased by fatigue. He shook his head, and opened his eyes. Even under the exhaustion, his emerald eyes sparkled at the sight of Christine.

"Oh Raoul…"she mouthed, throwing her arms around him. "I was so afraid…afraid something would happen. I've been so terrified--terrified every waking moment since the Phantom took me to his lair. If you'reever hurt again, I'mcertainIwill die of anxiety."

Raoul smiled.

"Christine, what do you feel for the Phantom?" he suddenly asked, after a pause. She could read nothing behind his still eyes. Very tenderly, she took his hand in hers.

"I don't know, Raoul. I don't know anything anymore. I had loved him once before, but I'm horrified now. He was once my Angel; now my nightmare and demon.I remember the day he brought me to the lair and I fell asleep in that dark, devilled place. Oh, how can I ever forget that night—how will I ever escape from it? It was as beautiful and mysterious as heaven, yet as dark and forbidding as Hell. He has a power over me. You know it, Raoul. That day I lifted his mask, he declared I would never be free. Oh, and it's true; it's true. I'll never find my way out. All I have is you now—every flicker of hope lies within you; and if he takes you too, I will shatter to pieces.

His world is only blackness, Raoul…and he wants to take me there forever. He can take me---his passion frightens me. I fear, one day he will kill all that is good inside me." She brushed her tear-streakedcheeks and Raoul leaned down to kiss her face. Christine looked up at him, wishing she could hold him close forever, never having to turn her face to the Phantom's world of unending darkness again.

"But Christine, you had once said—it was he who made your spirit soar. It was his music..."

"It was, Raoul, it was. But his eyes are forever filled with pleading, as if he knew I was the only one who would ever free him from his own prison." Their eyes met just then and Raoul laid his hands on either side of her face.

"Will you sing for me, Raoul?"

"Sing?"

"Yes…"

"I will, my angel, but why?" he asked. Christine sadly smiled through her tears.

"I remember, long ago, I used to cry at night when the Angel of Music sang daunting songs inside my head. Father would read stories to me, but I would still weep, so he would call you to my room." She paused at the beautiful memory. "When you came, you'd tell me to look at the twinkling stars outside the window while you sang to me. I remember asking you 'Will you sing, Raoul? Make the Angel of Music go away tonight.' Even then I had looked to you as the only one that could ever take me from the Angel's prison.

Please, Raoul—will you sing?"

"Yes, my dear Little Lotte; I will. But close your eyes tonight for there are no stars outside."

"Yes there is," Christine interrupted. "You are, Raoul. You're my star tonight, as you are every night." Quietly, she laid her head on Raoul's lap, and let his strong loving voice carry her away from sorrowful uncertainty.A beautiful enchantmentclunggently onto hisvoice,and something insideit lent great courage to her heart. Somehow, she knew, that as long as Raoul was there, she would be able to brave all that ever stood in her way.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

For all the readers: Thanks so so much to those who have read and reviewed my previous piece! Your encouragements were very special to me. I hope you've enjoyed this one as well; please give feedback!