Important Author's Note: This chapter contains strong language and sexual violence. Don't say I didn't warn you. I know that I said this was a three-parter but I lied. One more chapter to go. Also, this chapter portrays Erik in a particularly wicked light. Although, we all prefer a soft as butter Erik, I feel the character shown in this story would probably be more realistic. Also, I'd like to thank everyone for their kind reviews: Thanks You.

Be My Living Bride - Part the Third

Erik's POV:

My heart is beating faster than I knew it could. My lungs are gasping for air. My throat is hoarse from the sounds it has produced. My body is exhausted and just wants to lie still and enjoy the amazing feeling running through it.

I am lying on the bed, facing the ceiling, holding Christine close to my perspire covered chest. I can hardly believe it, Christine loves me. She has proved her love, for she has had intercourse with me in the most loving way she could. She told me that she loved me, she kissed every inch of my body, she cried out my name as I thrust into her, she swore herself to me as she climaxed and now she is beside me; staring into my eyes.

"I love you," I whisper into her ear, and now I am placing a soft kiss upon her brow.

I have forgiven her all her wrongs, for she truly loves me now. She doesn't want that boy, she doesn't want the opera house; she wants me, and my little house where we can be alone together. She wants to stay here and have me fuss about her. She wants me to sing to her, talk to her and make love to her. She doesn't want the boy to live, for she loves me and despises him for taking her virginity. I won't rescue him, I will leave him; and together with the Persian he will roast alive, or maybe even take his life as so many have done before him.

Yes, I will leave the pair to die as I rest with my living bride; and in the morning I will remove their corpses and find a way to dispose of them. But that shan't worry me now. Instead, I am pulling my wife closer, and resting my head on hers as we fall asleep together.

Christine's POV:

I feel sick. I want to run to the bathroom and vomit out the entire evening. I want to scrub every last trace of that thing off me. I have shut my eyes, and am pretending to sleep whilst trying to work out a plan to escape. When will he release Raoul? When will he say that I can put my dress back on and scurry off, like a prostitute in the early morning light? When will he remove his hands from my waist and let me leave? Will he ever let me go, or will I be kept here as a slave to his twisted desires for all eternity?

I have laid here for about an hour now, and Erik is softly snoring in my ear. He has loosened his grip on me and I have decided that now is the time for me to escape.

Slowly, I am wriggling free of his hold and out of the bed. I tip-toe silently down the corridor, back to Erik's bedroom. I am grabbing for my dress and hastily pulling it over my head, not bothering with my corset. My dress itself is torn down the back, but I don't care. I will leave this place naked if I have to. I am running down the corridor towards the staircase that leads up to that little room. I am being as silent as I can, but I fear that my heavy breath may be betraying me.

I am running up the staircase now, and all I can think about is Raoul. Oh how I love him, I would give anything to see him safe; and I have. I hope he will understand why I allowed myself to be violated by that monster. I'm sure he will, for he loves me. I know he does.

Finally, I have reached the landing and that evil little window is only inches away. I am running towards it, not caring what I might see. I am by it now, and looking through it, not daring to believe what I can see. Nothing. Well, nothing human. I can see a tree, and a rope but no people. In fact, other than Raoul's top hat, left in the corner; there is no trace of there ever being a soul in there.

My mind is racing. What has Erik done with them? Did I fall asleep and give him a chance to kill my love and that other poor fellow? Did he create some clever trap where by he could drop the pair into oblivion? Where they even there, or did I imagine my fiancé lying on the floor? What if he was there, but already dead?

Suddenly I can see the truth : I have been tricked.

Erik's POV:

I have awoken from my slumber, quite possibly the best I have ever had and my hands are groping about the bed in search of my brides pale flesh. I want to find her hand and bestow a million kisses on its palm. I want to whisper how much I love her into her ear, I want to her to whisper back to me. I want our mouths to fuse together and our body to join in the same force in passion that they did last night.

But my hand can find no trance of her presence in the bed, other than the folds in the sheets from where she lay.

I am opening my eyes and looking around. There in no one in the room other than myself, and if it wasn't for the sight of her panties lying at the bottom of my bed; I could swear that the night before had been a mere dream. Slowly I am moving towards my door, pulling on my trousers as I go.

"Christine" I am calling softly

"Christine my darling, where are you?" I coo.

My mind is beginning to race, where is she? Is she in the bathroom freshening up? In the kitchen preparing a little breakfast? I am trying to delude myself that she is in either of those places, and not, as I fear; searching for her former lover.

Suddenly I stop and stand still, listening for any signs of life. All is silent, save the creak of a step from the only flight of stairs in my house. She is by the torture chamber, and that is where I am now running to.

I am at the bottom of the stairs leading to the torture chamber, and I can see my bride at the top. She is beating frantically on the glass window pane as she struggles to hold onto her ruined dress. She is so consumed in here task that she doesn't see me climb the stairs. She doesn't feel the tips of my fingers on her neck. She doesn't notice my breath flow against her ear lobe. She doesn't even know I'm there.

My hands suddenly grab for Christine's neck, spinning her around, and pushing her back against the boiling hot wall. Her face is flushed red, her cheeks stained with tears and her eyes wide in shock.

"Pining for your lover?" I hiss.

I receive no answer, just a frantic fit of struggles, forcing me to pin her against the wall using my own form. I can feel her groin sandwiched against my own, her trembling legs knocking my knees, her barely covered breasts frantically rising and falling against my chest.

My fingers are creeping towards the top of the dress and moving the peel away the fabric from her breasts.

"No!" my little lying whore shouts suddenly, trying to kick me with her legs.

"No?" I retort, mimicking her high pitched voice. "Funny, remember how you begged for me last night? Begged me to fuck you like the little harlot you are!"

"Oh my little slut, it seems that you are indeed no more that a common whore trying to creep off in the deep of night to find another customer" I snarl.

I feel moisture on my forehead; the bitch has spat at me.

Christine's POV:

I had to spit at him, how could I not? He had kidnapped me, imprisoned my one true love, held me against me will, raped me, done away with Raoul, and now he had called me a whore. If there was a blade in my hand I would stab him.

But now I can tell my the anger growing in those flaming embers that I will regret my actions. His face, his hideous face is pushed against mine, his deathly breath covering my face.

"Ah, trying to fight back are we?" he spits, thrusting his groin against my own as he rips away my dress. I let out a gasp of shock, and I am desperately trying to fight back, wriggling against the monsters body, but I am too weak.

His mouth is forcing itself onto mine for a repulsive 'kiss', his teeth biting my lips until a drop of blood falls down my face. Suddenly I am being released from Erik's grasp, only to be flung face forward to the floor.

All I can see is the ground, but I can hear his menacing voice all around me.

"You little whore. That's all you are. Well, if you are nothing more than a worthless slut, then I will treat you like one!" Erik is yelling in fury. A searing pain runs through my body as he slaps my backside with his hand, releasing a sadistic laugh as he does so.

My heart is beating so fast I fear that it will leap from my body, my muscles are automatically clenching, and tears are freely streaming down my face; in anticipation of an unknown fate.

"Is it cold down there on that stone floor?" the beast is demanding.

I release a tremendous sob, but this doesn't satisfy him.

"Answer me you whore!" he shrieks at me.

"Yes!" I am screaming "It's freezing" I shout, in utter truthfulness.

"Good," he is whispering and now he is adding to his words, in a whisper that scares me more that his rage; "I dare say you'll crave this cool when you are in the pits of hell."

Although I do not know what the monster means, I am screaming none the less. I can hear the sound of fabric ripping and I can feel his cold flesh, his burning, perverted desire hit the back of my body.

I can feel his horrible erection against my buttocks, a painful burning sensation inside me, and a thrusting against back.

It is only now that my bewildered mind and shattered soul understands the utterly heinous fate that the man who was once my Angel of Music is bestowing upon me.

Now, it is the pits of hell do not seem so very terrible.