Authorette's note: It's chapter 5! WooHoo! Happy Advent everybody and thanks to everybody who's reviewed so far! This chapter is for Amy - who never fell asleep when I was boring her with POTO related ramblings, or any ramblings come to that!

1870, October 31st

Despite the pure, unadulterated rage that was running through my bones, I was still pulled towards my Christine in a way that I couldn't understand, I was drawn, like a despicable wasp to a beautiful spring flower. Without explanation for my actions, I began to walk down the steps until I was only two above her. I could almost feel the warmth that I assumed her skin had and taste the soft, sweet scent of her perfume. I had never had more physical contact with a woman than I had with Christine, and that was only in the form of an accidental brush of my gloved fingers against her own. Yet, as basic and momentary as that touch was, I craved it and had a most overpowering desire to gasp Christine's hand in my own and, and, I dared not ask myself ; for my cravings, (though like those of any man), seemed impossible to be even vaguely fulfilled.

I glanced upwards and saw the sorrowful, and almost, dare I say it, longing expression on my angel's most beautiful face. 'Longing'? What on this earth was I saying? My mind had most probably grown unaccustomed to human expressions after my three months of self-imposed solitude, I assumed that I was beginning to confuse repulsion for innocent desire. Even so, Christine was slowly moving towards me in tiny, delicate steps, until we were but a few inches apart.

I noticed that her little viscount was no longer clinging to her side like a little puppy dog, and I felt a smirk on my despicable face at the thought that I had scared that pathetic excuse for a man into submission! But I paid this no more attention as my mind was, once again, drawn solely to Christine. I stared into those deep, oceanic pools that served as her eyes, and I felt like a diver at the edge of a cliff, filled with a compelling desire to leap and be immersed in the cool water below. However, like all divers, I knew that the descent to the ocean would be perilous. I might fall into a cluster of rocks or misplace my footing and be crushed against the cliff face, or even get my initial jump wrong, and be finished before I even begin to fall. I had to ensure that every part of my descent went to plan and couldn't allow the thrill of being so close to the edge pull me under. No, like a diver I had to maintain my calm and keep my head clear.

My impulses were demanding that I grab my angel's smooth, pale hand and pull her down through the trapdoor with me but that wouldn't be at all wise. Not only would the shock and fear shake Christine's poor little heart, but someone would be sure to follow us, not that this caused any worry to me; my Punjab lasso would see to it that our brave little hero was soon dealt with. But this was a most public event, if I took Christine now, Paris would be full of news about it tomorrow. I could fool some bumbling upper-class eccentrics and illiterate, drunken gaffers, but could I fool Paris, or even the whole of France? The Chagnys would see to it that the army and police would be after me and with my hardly ordinary face, it would be virtually impossible to sneak out of the capital unnoticed. If I was ever going to take Christine for my own it would have to be in the quiet of night, without notice or the slightest suspicion. Well, I suppose I'd seen to it that such an eventuality was now highly unlikely too.

I swallowed and noticed a change of expression of my angel's face. Her eyes seemed so, so sorrowful and pitying, yes pitying. I felt my anger rise once more. Pity? Pity my dear Christine, it's a little late for that, do you not think? My mind raged, you, you, ripped off my mask, tearing my last scrap of dignity from me as you did so. You cowered from me in fear, you ran away from me, tearing your way up to your dressing room. You demanded that your room be changed so that you need never see me again. You informed your precious viscount of my horrid existence, and let him claim your lips and take your heart. You denied me all that you could have done. Yet, you have the audacity to descend down from the heavenly cloud that I allowed you to reach, and show me pity, such as a queen shows a stray dog!

My heart pounded in anger; no, no more my dear will I be deceived into treating you like a princess, a goddess, an angel. For I have seen what you really are. You are as cold and cruel as the hell that you condemned me too. You are a spider, a majestic spider, whose beautiful web I, a disgusting fly have become ensnared in. No more, will I forgive you and treat you like a precious china doll, who must be protected from me. These were the thoughts that swirled through my mind and in a moment, my heart was hardened. I grabbed for the gold chain that hung so softly, yet so heartlessly around her neck and yanked it, causing the chain to snap in two and fall to the floor between us. A gasp rose up from the crowd and tears gushed to the surface of Christine's eyes. But I cared not. Instead I turned and ran to my original point on the stairs and released the trapdoors. I then fell down into the safety of my underground realm, smoke dancing above me on the grand staircase.

I ripped off my mask and flung it to the stone floor, stamping on it with my foot. I shouted words that I didn't know that I even knew, I waved my arms in the air like a lunatic and allowed burning tears of hate and fury to pour down my face. I spat out in a rage the deepest, darkest lie that my mouth has ever spoken, in the hope that I could convince myself to believe it.

"I hate you Christine Daae. I wish you were as dead as your heart is. I condemn you to the hell you imposed on me. I hate you!"

The words poured out and then dissolved into that terrible silence that perpetually surrounded me. But another sound could be heard in the silence. Faint gasps of breath were coming from behind me and I knew that I was not alone.

I drew my sword and spun around, lunging into the spot of darkness where I could make out a human shape. Shouting a nonexistent word of fury, that seemed to mingle with this piercing shrill scream that filled the stale air. I retracted my sword, and made a grab for the figure's wrist as it tried to escape me. A wrist, something so smooth, soft and gentle. The mere though that I was holding the wrist of another human being sent a wave of thrill through me, but the realisation that this joint belonged to Christine was almost too much to bear. I held it as tight as I could in my left hand, and with my right I dropped my weapon and raised my gloved fingers, to stroke my angel's hand, savouring the new sensation of human contact.

Her fingers was so delicate, and so perfect. They felt as wonderful as I dreamt they would, and better. I loosened my grip on her wrist and gently, though forcefully lifted her hand to my shoulder and place her hand onto the base of my neck, relishing the touch. I shut my eyes and sighed in satisfaction, for a second my heart was calm and I had forgiven Christine all the wrongs that she'd done me. After all, she was touching me! Admittedly, my suit acted as a barrier between us, but still, no woman, ever, not even my own mother, had touched me in such a kindly way before. My heart sang, but then it sank for a whimper of fright exuded from my angel's mouth. It then realised that she wasn't shivering out of cold, but out of fear. I scared her, she was frightened by me. She, she hated me?

I sank my nails into her creamy skin, ignoring the yelp that Christine gave as I did so. "Really Christine, you can do better than that!" I spat menacingly. "Why yelp when you can scream? Yes my dear little thing, scream why don't you? Use that filthy little voice of yours and scream for help! Don't just stand there quivering, try and run, yes flee Christine, flee!"

I suddenly released her hand and flung Christine backwards, causing her to fall to the hard floor with a bump. I felt a twinge of pain in my heart, but ignored it.

"Please," I heard Christine whisper. "Please Erik."

I scoffed, "Erik? Ah yes Erik; that would be my name now wouldn't it? Not that you care, monster, is that what you think I should be called? Freak perhaps? Demon even? No Christine, don't be so very shy, tell me what do you want to call me?" I shouted the last few words with such contempt that I could sense the words lashing my angel like a whip, and there was silence.

"Well," I raged. "What do you want to call me?"

I heard a sob and a faint mutter, "A, ang, angel?", it uttered uncertainly.

I felt my temper rise. 'Angel'? What kind of an imbecile did she take me for? Did she think that a sweet word would melt my devilish heart and I'd sing her a little song and take her back to the arms of that, that fop?

"Oh my little Christine, do you really think that I am that besotted with you that a little lie and flutter of your eyelashes will make it all better between you and I?", I glared as I stood by her feet, her pink satin shoes now ruined with damp. Christine now began to sob, violent bursts of tears came gushing down her face and stained her cheeks, but my heart remained firm,

"Why do you weep so very much? Really it's growing rather tiresome. Are you upset that your shoes are ruined? No? Well, you probably can't see - but they are!" , I hissed. "That's right ruined Christine, they're all stained and spoilt! Shame for such new shoes to be ruined so quickly… But that's your fault, you chose to wear such dainty things, just like you chose to make me hate you. Yes, you made me my dear!" My face was now bright red and I could feel Christine's leg trembling underneath her dress, against my foot.

I now lowered my tone of voice so that it became caring and kind, I picked up my angel's left hand and softly held it in my own, caressing her knuckles, suppressing the urge to press them to my lips, for although I felt such immense hate for her, my heart burst with love for her too. "Please tell me, why are you shaking and crying so? Are you cold? Are you? If you are I will fetch you a blanket?" I asked, instantly regretting my last few words as I realised how insane they sounded.

There was silence once more, and then I heard her little voice, raw with tears and haggard from crying so much. "No, I'm not cold."

I signed in despair, "then why do you cry?" There was a long, uncomfortable pause and I then felt a tug on my hand, and realised that Christine was trying to lift herself off the ground, but in the darkness, not making a very good job of it. I extended my other hand and lightly supported her back, until Christine was directly standing in front of me, her eyes starring at the ground. Funny, I thought to myself, even in darkness she can't stand the thought of looking at my face.

At last, my reply came, amidst stutters and choking sobs. "I .. I.. I'm -" I never did discover the cause for those tears as in a typically shrinking - violet style, I felt her beautiful body collapse and fall breathlessly into my arms. Christine had fainted.

Authorette's note: That Christine, always lacking oxygen…..