Raoul:
Staring into Christine's pleading gaze as tears poured down her face onto the blade, I held the ring I had given to her in my hand. Not sufficiently convinced to remove the knife from her throat, it remained unmoving beside her jumping pulse. Blinking, I gazed between her and Erik since I was unable to speak in the face of such an unexpected revelation. She wore my ring! Her distressed expression was completely convincing as my heart leapt that with the knowledge that she still loved me. She loved me! I had been victorious! Mere seconds had passed but, realizing I must not keep my eyes from the demon for long, I began to slowly smile as I saw incredulity spread across his repulsively deformed face. His mismatched eyes stared at Christine and he seemed to stumble slightly in shock. In a disbelieving whisper, he faltered, "You...you lied to me? Christine, you lied to me?" Suspiciously watching both of them, I glanced furtively down to see Christine's expression become one of indignant anger. Her tearful eyes burned with an acute hate that I would have thought her incapable of and she seemed relieved to speak the truth as she spat, "Yes! Yes, I lied to you! Do you think that I would allow you to kill him because I would not stay with you! I would risk living with the devil himself and even marrying him if it saved Raoul!" Beginning to weep, she lowered her head somewhat and sobbed, "I would do anything for him..." Lifting her chin, she glared resentfully at Erik and parried her final blow, "Even pretend to love you!"
Some of my vengeful hate was mollified at the monster's apparently heartrending reaction. Seeming to crumble under the weight of such knowledge, he began to breathe heavily and his hand lifted to absently rub his chest over his heart. His tearful eyes wide with astounded anguish, he repeated dumbly as though it was the only phrase he knew, "Christine, you lied to me?" As I watched his grief-stricken response to Christine's pronouncement, I released the ring that I held in my hand. The effect of her loathing seemed to crush him visibly and every fiber of my body tensed in readiness as he lowered to his knees on the floor. As though dazed, he lifted his mask with shaking hands to cover the right side of his ghastly face before he gradually stood to his full, imposing height. Although he was trembling, his expression was one of stiff abhorrence as he glowered at Christine and me.
Waving his hand in dismissal, he glowered stormily at me and steadily announced with unleashed antagonism, "Take her. Do with her what you wish. I'll not risk my life for her crocodile tears." Effectively dismissing both of us, he turned his back and strode towards the balcony. I was so thunderstruck that I lowered the blade from Christine's neck and took a step towards him as I brandished the dagger. Taken aback at this unexpected turn of events, I ordered roughly, "Stay where you are, Devil. Don't even attempt to flee!"
Erik:
The sentiment I had just expressed in our anxious drama had me quaking in genuine fear. Having seen her pleading eyes as she spit out such vicious hatred towards me, I found I did not even care if she was telling the truth. I only knew that I had to get her to safety. After turning my back and seeming to leave Christine in his hands, I anxiously hoped that he would be persuaded my frantic performance of sorrow. Anticipating that my ploy would be realistic enough, a thrill of victory surged inside me as I instinctively sensed that he had moved away from her when I heard his voice closer to me. Swiftly, I whirled around with a carnal roar. Grabbing the hand that held the dagger, the Vicomte suddenly began to attempt to wrestle it free with both of his hands. Twisting my hand and bending his arm, I effectively broke his wrist and he fell to the floor with a cry of pain. Bending, I picked up the dagger and slipped it into one of my leather boots. Without losing a moment, I calmly stepped on his throat and removed the Punjab lasso from my cloak. Coldly flicking the noose about his neck, I was shaking now from the most intense rage I had ever known. Having never felt such fear since my childhood as Christine's life was threatened, the emotion easily evolved into cold, murderous fury. His hands automatically flew to the rope about his neck as he made pathetic choking sounds. Methodically, I tied his broken wrist to his other hand with a string of rope hidden in my cloak. It was actually quite effortless to restrain him since he whimpered like a child from the fractured bone. Once more, I became frightfully emotionless and all I could see in my warped mind was that damn knife at Christine's throat. How dare he! Purposefully, I moved my boot to his chest and was ready to choke the life from the bastard when I heard the only sound that could have penetrated my bloodthirsty consciousness - a small sob.
My dark eyes furtively darting to the direction from whence the noise came from, I suddenly became aware of Christine still tied to the chair with her head bowed. Streams of tears fell silently down her cheeks and off of her lowered chin. Suddenly, I knew that I could not kill him in front of her... I could never expose that cold, lethal facet of my personality to her. Frustrated in my impotent fury, I kept the noose loose enough around his neck so that he would live but tight enough to keep him immobilized. Gazing down at him dispassionately, I promised in a chilly whisper, "It will take merely a flip of my wrist to break your worthless neck. Don't tempt me, Chagny." His eyes widening in unfeigned terror, I kept the rope taut as I slowly walked backwards to the chair where Christine was bound. Upon reaching her, I wrapped the cord around my wrist and my eyes never left the trembling boy trembling on the expensive Oriental carpet. Retrieving the dagger from my boot, my glance fell to the ropes which tied her arms to the chair and with a one swift slash, I freed her. Tugging slightly, I tightened the noose around the Vicomte's useless neck. In my peripheral vision, I was aware of Christine rubbing her wrists but I dared not look away from that backstabbing coward.
Revenge coursing through my veins, I managed to order curtly, "Go out into the hall, Christine."
Tearfully, she whispered, "No, Erik..."
Turning my head to her in surprise, it happened so fast that I could not react in time. The door burst open and the police filed in. Seeing a wild-eyed masked man with a rope around the bound Vicomte's neck and a crying woman, they came to the conclusion any rational man would. Before I could move, I heard a loud crack and felt a searing heat tear through my chest. In slow motion, I fell to my knees and another shot was fired into my side. Covering the wound with my hand in stupid, futile attempt to halt the flow of blood, I collapsed to the floor as darkness enshrouded my world and a sinister chill took hold of my ebbing life. I heard as though in the distance Christine's hysterical screaming and I endeavored ineffectually to tell Christine that I loved her before death took me. Succumbing to the breathtaking pain, I lost consciousness as I felt her arms supporting me around my neck. Obscurely, I thought, "I love you, Christine"...