Chapter 29 - His Rescue

The toll of midnight echoed as a dark figure stepped upon the roof. Eyes scanned the area, narrowing as a red hand plucked something glimmering against the tarmac. A faint hiss emanated from the creature as the blue gem was snuffed out by bloody fingers.

"Let this be war between us both,"

Twenty-Two Hours Earlier

His fingers throbbed. Rubbed raw from carrying a bag whose straps were not designed for continual use. Head pounding from the jet-lag. Wobbling legs from heaving his body up a groaning staircase probably older than himself.

Raoul had always cursed stairs; as much as he was able to climb them with more ease than others, it was the precarious nature of ascending above without seeing the foundations that had made his imagination run wild as a child. Why his room was always on the first floor and why the attic was left to moulder. Christine had been the one to scare away the fear of stepping into the unknown. Without her, he'd never loathed staircases more. Phillip had never understood his reluctance about heights, his practical no-nonsense brother could never doubt his foundations. Raoul had to swallow his objections once he'd seen the office on the thirteenth floor of the building. Lotte had always chided that thirteen was an unlucky number. Usually, once Raoul stood on solid ground at the top, he was fine. It was the journey that made sweat slick between his fingers and pool at back of his neck.

God, I wish Christine was here. She'd probably even like the antiqueness of this place. Giggle at the cracks in the wall and peer around for cockroaches.

He didn't feel the pang in his heart at the thought of her laugh.

Two fifteen, Two sixteen, Two seventeen…Ah, here it was. The light emanating from his phone blinked awake as he tapped it impatiently to re-read the message.

The chipped golden numbers stared back.

It's all or nothing.

He raised his hand and gave a low, weary rap.

"In Allah's name, what are you doing here?" the man growled, widening the door and gesticulating for him to enter.

Raoul sighed as he collapsed into the only chair of the room, carry-on thunking on the floor, "You won't believe the flight I had –"

"I repeat, what are you doing here?" the man interrupted, removing a gun from his blue ratty dressing gown and placing it on his bedside table.

Raoul's eyes widened, "You have a gun. You're going to use it, right?"

Jade eyes narrowed, "Not unless the time is right - not unless I have to," he turned his back on Raoul, sauntering over to the dresser where a kettle perched, "Want some tea?"

His lips twitched, "Actually, that would be nice," Hell, it was two o'clock in the morning, it wasn't like he was going to sleep anytime soon.

The kettle gurgled as Nadir switched it on, raising an eyebrow as it started to churn the water inside with lacklustre effort, "When did you arrive?"

"'Round an hour ago,"

"So why did you not answer my calls for three weeks?"

Raoul winced, "Our company got hacked, our lines of communication stopped us from reaching out to anyone without a serious threat of data breach. Somehow it got into our home phones and landlines, following some trail by the fact we had work computers outside of the workplace. Honestly, it went over my head. Found the man who planted the virus though; he wanted to crack our codes to access our funds. He'd been recently fired, man was desperate,"

Nadir deflated, pursing his lips, "You are sure this man was the culprit?"

"One of our employees witnessed the whole thing,"

"And your phone? Is it new?"

"Bought it yesterday," he replied, giving Nadir a grateful nod as he brought over a steaming mug.

"There's no milk and one sachet of sugar," Nadir stated, eyeing the mug as if it was a disgrace.

"Fine by me, all I want is something warm," Raoul muttered, trying not to cringe at the sip of cheap water and split teabag.

Never trusting that man to make me tea again.

"I am used to making it with a samovar, this English tea is not what I am used to," Nadir wrinkled his nose as he drank, "But tell me, why are you here?"

"I came to help. I'm not standing back when there's even a slight possibility that she's alive in this city," Raoul said firmly, leaning forward as Nadir perched on his bed, springs squeaking in protest.

"It's better you go home," came a steely reply, "You're not needed here,"

Raoul set the cup down on the beside table with a clatter, "Cut the bullcrap, you need someone to have your back. I'm not some child here, we're dealing with a maniac!"

"And that is exactly why you should not be here," Nadir met his gaze, boring into him like an unbeaten piece of metal, "I know what I am dealing with, you do not. If you come in a single meter of that – that man, then I cannot tell you that you will live to tell the tale. He does not like you and that is a risk I cannot take,"

"Maybe that is why you should take the risk. I can be a distraction, make my presence known and while he comes to – uh –" he swallowed, "Eliminate me, you can find that time to get to Christine and get her out of here,"

Nadir chuffed, "That is a noble idea, but it won't work. That man knows a trap when he sees one," a small, pained breath, "It will be better if you would be the one to find her and then escape,"

"You mean that –"

"No. It is not decided yet," Nadir took another sip from his drink, looking into its murky depths as if it would reveal an answer, "However, I have reason to suspect that he will be attending a masquerade in the local opera house with her. For the first time in years, there is a plan for a firework display. Erik loathes fireworks,"

"That's all you have? A suspicion?" Raoul gaped at him, "Exactly how well do you know this – this thing?"

A flash of white teeth as Nadir grimaced, "Too well, that is what. I am sure of it. There is no other event quite like this in the whole of Paris and I happen to understand that he has made a name for himself at the Opera Garnier, another infamous Opera Ghost,"

"Another one? Why haven't they connected the dots of his rampages – he could be terrorizing a dozen places in the world!"

Nadir chuckled darkly, "You think that Erik will ever allow that to occur, that there could ever be proof that there is a man behind that mask? Think again. There are too many people in this world who are afraid of doing the right thing, and often because there is someone on the other end who will pay the price of that,"

Raoul frowned as he mulled over Nadir's words, "And what is your plan so far to help get Christine?"

"Get a message to her, while I can,"

"That's it?" Raoul sneered.

Nadir glared, "If I wish to live after my encounter with a man as unruly as Erik, then a message is all I can give to her,"

Raoul looked down, "Sorry,"

Nadir sighed, rubbing his forehead, "It is all I can think of currently, since it is only me running this operation,"

Raoul's head jerked up, "Is there anyway to arrange a trip to a helipad around here?"

"I can see where the local helipad is and see if there'd be a willing taxi-driver, why?"

"Well," he smiled, "I might just have an idea,"

Two Hours Later

"You have thought about this," mused Nadir, a crease bending between his eyebrows.

"I just want her safe," Raoul said, leaning over the map of the Opera Garnier.

"And how long did it take exactly to come up with this intricate, on-the-lam getaway?" Nadir looked at Raoul appraisingly.

"It doesn't matter," he huffed, "The point is that it will work, and once you've trapped Erik in his subterranean home, we'll be able to both get out of there alive,"

"I hope so, Raoul, I hope so," he murmured in reply.

One hour later

"Are you sure no-one is going to go up there, in the meantime?"

"I have already stashed the bag there in advance and no one has noticed, they don't go there often; it will just be a different person going down from the rooftop. Now hang up so I can get some sleep,"

Click.

Seventeen Hours Later

"So where is she? Haven't you caught her on camera yet?" Raoul murmured into his earpiece.

"Patience, Erik enjoys being fashionably late to any party," there was a squeak and he heard Nadir move around in the van he'd rented for tonight.

"But-"

"Side entrance - there they are," Nadir sighed in relief, "Daae is an orange and black butterfly and Erik is a cloaked man in red with a skeleton mask. Remember, do not make contact. If you think that approaching Erik will make him unable to defend himself, last time a man started a fight with him in public, the offender came out with a broken arm; that was the least of his troubles when his trachea had been snapped along with it,"

Raoul suppressed a shudder, "Got it. No attempting to say hello,"

"Not until I indicate that I have breached contact with Ms Daae,"

"Do you really believe that you'll pry them apart, just by showing up?"

Nadir barked a laugh, "Erik will not wish me within a meter of the girl, he will release her just long enough to...neutralise the threat,"

"Be careful, we need you alive," the words felt strained, "I still need to pay you after all this,"

"Consider this a favour, after cracking your heritage case my clientele rose dramatically," Nadir replied tightly.

"Oh, that's wonderful,"

"At least for my bank account yes, my sleeping routine not as much,"

"I guess finding lost puppies were quite the all-nighters,"

"Hah – you make me smile sometimes, Raoul,"

One Hour Later

"Good news, Daae has been allowed to roam the building, that means –"

"I see her!" Raoul hissed, "She's going down the stairs to the where all the dancing is,"

"Don't get near her! Erik is still following surreptitiously, if he sees you once it will be over,"

"Damn," Raoul ducked behind a pillar, seeing a flash of red.

"What happened?"

"I thought I saw him,"

"Stay where you are, I have no desire to jeopardise anyone's life tonight," there was a crackle of movement and Raoul heard the sound of a laptop closing "I'm coming inside,"

There was sudden static.

Nadir had left the set-up in their van.

Half An Hour Later

God. It was her. The desire to break in a run to encase her back into his arms was unbearable, pounding against his skull, take her away from the madness. Start their run around the world.

It could be romantic if they were to forget the circumstances.

Hell, he had missed her. Even the petite form that he'd held in his memories was nothing compared to the ethereal reality. How many times had he suspected that she'd been under the influence far beyond his reach? Finally, proven that his own suspicions were correct; nothing could possibly influence her that much to reject him entirely. He knew her. Christine was her even under the years they'd been apart. She couldn't have changed that much.

But the woman that faced him now on the rooftop was wrong, transformed from the girl he'd seen inside of her. Angry snarls of her hair, defensiveness flashing behind hardened eyes, a lioness pacing in a cage. Not the innocent girlish buoyancy Raoul had fallen in love with, her sense of adventure had disappeared, replaced with desperation. Once she had suggested an elopement, a frantic energy to flee and hide. Here, she stood, arms folded and resistant to move.

It isn't right. That thing has done something to her – just like Nadir said. This couldn't have happened otherwise. Oh Christine, what has he done to you?

The very sight of the ring incensed him. Well…Almost as much as when Phil had said that going to France where a potential madman was ready to kill him was stupid and let the bloody PI do his work. No. Nadir needed his help, Christine needed someone she knew to get her out of there.

At least, he had thought so.

But that glimmering bauble, who exactly did that man think he was? Forcing her to marry him, like some beast trapped in a castle.

Bliss: her soft pliancy, want tangible, breathed between lips and hard to ignore. Easy to dismiss the terrible evidence of some psychological trauma, a light renewed, knowing that she was there still inside. He could still reach her. God, he wanted her too. She'd been so far away, a mist that he'd never been able to catch.

Soon it would be over. Then they'd travel, just like she wanted. Settle somewhere that thing would never find them, slowly reintroduce her to intimacy, comfort, a human who wouldn't abuse her, give her time. Time to recover. Hopefully, he'd get her to testify about her kidnapping, so that man would be taken away. If he could, put him in prison. A life sentence.

Dreams came crashing down when his phone gave a shrill ring.

He's coming.

Half an Hour Earlier

Nadir watched impatiently as the two disappeared within the crowd, his old heart seizing. That all-too familiar adrenalin. He should be used to situations like this; too many years he had spent the beck and call of a man he loathed. Still, here it was again.

Growing old made you fear, he knew from the arthritis and its sinister crawl through his joints, ever-crooked knuckles, the deepening wrinkles around his eyes. The sweat that had already gathered on the back of his neck, a mockery of fitness that he once grasped with two hands.

I am a weak man for fearing Death, despite believing on what lies beyond. Allah protect me.

Waiting was minimal, for the shape parted the crowd in a tide of red, abstract in how its devilish garb inspired the same horror in people, just as it did many years before. Erik had never lost his power. Would never. A meteor that blazed the sky in blood.

Now he wielded a trophy of a dark omen. Shudders rippled through him. Horror, horror, horror.

Indra.

Terrible, terrible Indra.

Oh Erik.

The daemon stood, surveying the hall with the disinterest of a God and the sharpness of a viper. It was the too-still, robotic movement of his head that belayed something was wrong.

Snapped, eyes snapped to him, at once the terror fell upon his shoulders, the violent anger aimed as a knife over his heart.

The demon had laid eyes upon him. Eyes that smouldered with passion's rage.

Unable to form words, Nadir watched as a bloody finger beckoned.

Then, with a swish of red cloak, the man became invisible once more, Nadir resignedly following in his wake.

Cold, clammy, his body couldn't decide what it wanted to do. Nausea, headache, dread. Trembling, a test he'd failed, but worse, because this was life and he was Death.

He would go down fighting.

Erik loomed over the crowd, the snap of blood flickering ahead, even though Nadir was fighting to keep him in eyesight. What he wouldn't give to see his wife, the sleeping figure of his son. The raw pain of life would be over. The guilt would no longer rot his body. Emaciate his mind.

Live for the girl. She'll need your help. Keep them safe. This is what you must do.

Dust gathered in his nostrils as he detached from the crowd. Heading further into the building, where the harmonious laugher faded away, light dimming in the hallways that stretched ahead. The faint tap of steps that his ears strained to hear. Finally, there was the stench of darkness and ignoring the 'No entry' signs. Silence, bar the creaking steps of his descent.

Down a level, traversing with little light. Only the wavering torch of his phone leading him onwards, a route where Nadir had once tried in vain to figure Erik's entry point.

He had failed, until now.

Two levels later, Nadir heard the creaking stop. Warily, he continued onwards, ducking under old props until a rusted mirror leaped out from the darkness – on hinges, it seemed – the face of it caked in dust. However, there was a gap between it and the wall, slight enough for an amateur to miss.

Erik has always adored his trap doors.

Nadir pushed it open, crouching to see a dark outline of a hatch. It was half the size of the mirror, but it did not take long to open.

Surprisingly…Simple. Even for Erik's standards.

What he was faced with after opening the entrance, however, was what he saw as the deterrent.

A dark hole with no way to see what lay beneath. The torch of his skimmed nothing, only a sharp halo of light reflecting back at him.

It is now or never. If I do not follow, Erik will kill me.

His eyes fluttered shut as he remembered the old 'tuck and roll' trick. Hard to do under darkness, with no knowledge of what the distance it would be.

Sliding his phone away in an inner pocket, he edged forward, fingers gripping the sides of the hole.

Here goes.

Nadir dropped.

Sharp pain and a nauseating crack caught him as he hit the bottom of the chasm. His timing had not been perfect. Taking stake of the situation, breathing through the pain, he estimated that he'd broken an ankle. He flexed his toes and pain ricocheted through. Yes, definitely broken. Wincing, Nadir reflected bitterly that without Erik's help he'd be unable to get out of the lair.

And I do not think that Erik is in a particularly benevolent mood.

"Greetings Daroga," from the dark a familiar voice echoed, bouncing off the walls.

"Evening, old friend," Nadir wheezed as he shifted, his broken appendage protesting as he moved into a sitting position.

"What an imprudent position you find yourself in, Nadir,"

Nadir could practically feel Erik's eyes narrow, and he raised his own, searching for the walls.

It was...Odd. Gradually, as his eyes adjusted, it appeared that he'd fallen into a hexagonal room, Nadir could even see the faint lines of seam between panels.

When a shape confronted him from within the gloom he held his breath, but as he leaned away, the shadow mimicked his action.

No. It couldn't possibly…

"Why am I surrounded with naught but my reflection?" he rasped the question, eyes flittering to each corner, until it settled upon one other looming shape.

Erik's menacing laugh filled the room, "Why, my dear Daroga, tell me you haven't you seen this invention before?"

At that, there was a faint whirr and suddenly Nadir was blinded by light.

Nadir felt all breath leave his lungs as he recoiled, stifling a yelp as he jarred his ankle, leaning away from the malevolent shape haunting the room.

Turning in the phantom breeze was a noose, hung from an elegant curving branch, disturbingly ornate leaves decorating the tree.

Memories flashed before Nadir's eyes, the crack of necks snapping and the rasping of the rope against the metal, the dull nausea of seeing the body cut loose a day later.

Benham's laugh as he beheld the delightful new toy Erik had made for him, before the other more lethal torture had come into fruition… This catalyst that had inspired Erik began to think in realms other than the physical.

"Is this what our friendship has come to?" Nadir spat.

"It did not have to be this way!" bellowed Erik, "I could have allowed you to live, if you left us well alone," a harsh bang sounded from somewhere, jumping Nadir so severely that he flinched.

"I love her, you fool, I love her," came Erik's voice, rattling harshly, "But you could not believe that Erik could love,"

This cannot be love if you would kill while she lives.

"I would be dying of it, if she did not return my affection," a faint chuckle, "Oh, but Daroga, she does, and soon we shall live – truly live, not this wretched form of survival that was before her – together, happily,"

A delirious sigh filled his ears.

"We shall be so very happy – yes, right here – and at the Garnier she will flourish. I have plans Nadir! Great beautiful plans, she will love it, and Erik, only Erik,"

Nadir gritted his teeth, glancing upwards, "And what happens if a performer decides to stake an interest, what happens then?"

Erik's sinister chuckle dripped through the air, the sound stomach-turning, "Oh, there will be none of that, you see, she's going to -" a strangled sob, "She – she said – she promised to wear Erik's ring, and Erik's veil, though she hasn't seen that yet, and listen to his wedding mass, and let Erik, horrible Erik touch her precious hands," distantly, there was a terrible snorting, snuffling, a cough.

A long sniff.

"You see, Erik is going to be very happy soon," he said calmly, "And will not have an uninvited guest become a nuisance,"

"Erik – listen to me, there's another way to achieve –" Nadir began.

"No!" Erik roared, "No, you listen to Erik, he will have a happy ending, have a wife, a darling, and will not hide under a bridge for the rest of his life, always hiding, burrowing below the earth to survive –" a gasp, "Erik will keep his butterfly safe, not like you, not get them hurt, safe. Safe, free, loved,"

"Don't you dare mention –" Nadir croaked, a sucker punch to his chest, eyes stinging, world shaking.

"She died and so did your son, but Erik will not make the same mistake!"

"I left them alone in order to help you," Nadir gritted his teeth, "If I had not, if I hadn't believed your life was worth saving, then they'd be here today instead of you!"

That was it. That was what it boiled down to all along. That was the reason he could not forget the red circle around their heads, red circles in their foreheads, their eyes circles of glazed pain, red bodies shaded under the drapes, clutching each other as they attempted to escape from the window.

The red Nadir saw when he wanted to kill the man he'd just saved.

Agony seared his chest as his breaths grew laboured, it was too hot, far too hot, and he hadn't enough to eat that day, there wasn't enough air in this chamber.

"If you had not demanded we escape, to betray Benham's business –" Nadir was cut off as Erik interrupted.

"Dozens of innocent children would have been sold, slaves, whores, beaten – treated like animals," snarled Erik, "Yet blame Erik how you wish, no more than animal himself, but tell this the souls you have let become harmed to protect sentimental beings you cared more about,"

Jade eyes flared, "And how large is your body count! Far larger than mine will ever be,"

"Your shortcomings are your own," he sneered, "Humanity's are mine, they wanted a monster and so they created one,"

"Look who's blaming the world now," the man on the floor curled his lip, hearing Erik's answering cackle, murmuring to himself, "To think I had thought there would be time to reason with you, while –"

"While what," Erik's dark voice interrupted him abruptly and the words froze on his tongue.

Nadir realised with a cold sweat that Erik had heard every word, "I meant 'while I had hoped you would see reason',"

"You have never been a good liar, Nadir," Erik said breezily, before a sheet of fear shot down his spine, "Now tell me the truth,"

Nadir swallowed, hating himself, hating that –

"Tell me, Daroga, tell me what exactly 'there would be time to' implies, would you?" Erik's voice resonated and Nadir shuddered, unable to stop envisioning the face that went along with the voice.

I hope I have stalled for long enough. It is up to them now. I have prepared Raoul the best I could. They just need to keep running.

I have failed you two.

Just as I have failed everyone else.

Nadir gave a rueful laugh, oh the irony, the terrible irony, "I think you know, Erik,"

There was a roar and something crashed so hard that the mirrors around him vibrated, his own reflection shuddering.

"Rot there, for all Erik cares about your loathsome hide! Goodbye, Daroga. Erik will see you in hell,"

And then there was silence.

Nadir contemplated what it might be like to die, on a concrete floor, terribly and utterly alone.

He's coming.

Oh God, what's happened Nadir!

Panic flurried through Raoul's veins, before grim determination pushed fear away.

I won't leave without you, I know you told me to get Christine out – but she can follow instructions. I know she can. But you're our only hope to make it together, to know our enemy.

Christine – forgive me for not being able to protect you. But you need time. I can give it to you. I can only hope that I'll make it out alive so that I can come and find you.

I love you. Forgive me.

And he pushed.

Raoul's breath came fast and hard as he examined the shape across the rooftop, its luminous eyes hungry like a wolf he'd once seen in a fairy-tale.

Oh, what big eyes you have.

"So you're him? Didn't think that you'd hide in the shadows like a coward," Raoul's voice cracked and prayed to God that shriek was from someone who wasn't Christine, that'd she'd made to the bottom by now.

"Come closer, boy," the eyes flared, "Let me see the fool who attempts to steal what is mine,"

"She's never been yours," Raoul bared his teeth in a snarl, "And she's never going to come back,"

"High words from the boy she left in the dark," the shadow moved, a silver face flashing momentarily, "A measly playmate,"

Raoul scoffed, stepping nearer.

"Just you wait, you're going to go to prison for a very long time, give it up," another step closer, "You'll realise what's best for Christine; a stable life, a family, a home,"

A terrible growl filled the rooftop, bordering on animalistic, "I'd rather die a thousand deaths than see you live to marry my future wife," the shadow moved again, the outlines of feathers shifting in the breeze.

"Well then, I'll grant your wish," snarling, Raoul lunged to the duffle bag, knees grazing against the concrete, hand plunging hand into the bag. An ominous heft his hands as they rose unsteadily.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Rocking backwards with the impact, his skin shrieked with recoil, arms violently vibrating.

Golden light disappeared in an exclamation. A guttural grunt echoed dimly from the shape collapsed against the wall.

Raoul's breathing hitched, adrenaline spiralling at the horrible thought of actually – actually - Oh God, what had he done? There came a keening sob. A sob that tugged at a place buried deep. When Phillipe was young. That wet blubbering strung to outright keening, grasping onto something that wouldn't come, a laugh that would never be heard again, the fingers that had set straight his first tie, that awful denial of being unable to bear the weight of loss.

Of Dad going one last sailing trip without them. How only years later facing the solemn truth, that an urn was all that was left of a man. Reduced to dust.

His head jerked towards the shape, as the sob that was so mournful changed, curling into a cruel cackle.

"Chagny, Changy, what aim you have!" the Voice mocked, the strength of his figure returned, stepping out from the darkness, "To think that your own father would have shot better than that!"

It was stuff of nightmares, bulbous garb covered in red silk, a darker stain appearing at the shoulder joint, a bloody cloak flowing behind the figure. An assassin with a face of Death.

Breathing became unsteady. You should have run when you had the chance, should have taken her and vanished, as planned. He's going to kill you. And then he's going to get Christine. And you're going to die. Oh shit, I'm going to die. On a rooftop, away from home, all alone.

And Phil, who has no idea where you are.

Raoul scrambled back, disjointedly looking down to see the gun quivering in his hands, glancing behind to skirt away from the edge.

The Red Death stalked abroad, leering in his ungainly height, relishing in their game of cat and mouse. Uneven teeth gleamed wickedly.

"What would you prefer, Chagny? Death, or knowledge that you will not reach her before I do?" the sensation of breath touching his left ear startled him. Damnit, he needed to aim without it shaking.

"Or perhaps that the man you relied on is left for dead, deep below?" the skeleton hissed, breath now touching his right ear, golden buttons glinting as he stepped ever closer.

Raoul tried not to flinch at the thought of Nadir's body oozing in a pool of blood, left on the stairs leading to the cellars. The dome of the Opera was behind him – if he could just –

"You have no life that she could possibly desire," red boots glided into his vision, and Raoul's body jarred as his sash was pinned by an unrelenting sole.

"No respect, no love – do you think it is money that awes her?" burning balls of fire hovered above him, "Music consumes her soul, boy!"

The head jerked, towering over him and a red hand shot out, grasping his neck, lifting him – up – up and oh God he couldn't breathe, couldn't think, half coherent words speared into his face. Something clattered to the floor, slipping from his hands.

"Think of her, she will not be sustained by you, a life without music, a life without Erik!"

Ba-bum, he was gasping, clutching with two hands for air, head so light, an impending explosion. Can't breathe! Can't breathe!

The skull face sneering, yellow eyes mocking his struggle, a strange laugh bubbling from everywhere and nowhere, a crazed cackle dancing in the eyes of the monster.

I'll be damned if I let this bastard kill me without knowing what he looks like!

Straining against the chokehold, with one last burst of effort, Raoul reached towards the face, closer, closer, closer.

There was a scream so inhuman that it rattled his eardrums and a resounding crack and white split of agony, head crashing against concrete. The entire world spinning around him. Air, blessed fresh air, gulps and gallons of it. Shuddering gasps, grasping for life. Tears blurring his vision until he wiped them away.

"Oh Christ," the hoarse whimper left his mouth as he witnessed the most hideous face he'd ever seen.

"So, you've seen it all now," the eerie voice rasped, fingers curling on the ground, "Aren't I a handsome fellow, eh? You cannot escape now, no one ever escapes from the monster for long,"

Raoul panted, unable to tear his eyes away, swallowing away the burning gathering in his throat, "What are you?"

The mad thing wheezed, "Hell if I know, boy: demon, angel, phantom, Erik has been all,"

Desolate eyes from the hunched over figure, staring out of a skull that no one could love, turned into points as he took in Raoul sprawled on the ground, an uncontrollable snarl rippling with electricity, "Though, I will gladly await the time Erik begins your demise,"

Raoul flinched away as the body rose in fluid movement to its full height, the imprint of hands a phantom sensation constricting his throat, an unforgiving vice.

"At the moment, Erik has a more pressing matter to deal with," yellow dots raised to the sky and a low growl rumbled from his throat as there was a squeal of tires down below.

Elation so intoxicating burst through that through the pain, a delirious laugh escaped, "She's made it, I know it," he raised his eyes to the sky. Thank God. I've saved her.

"Not if Erik has any say in it," the voice hissed, and his shape blurred as the monster appeared over Raoul. Narrowed eyes appraised the black object dangling in his hand, "This just might do,"

The object focused as it cocked towards him. Raoul forgot to breathe as he stared down the barrel of the gun. His gun.

Horror punctured as a firecracker ripped through tendons, searing nerves and bruising muscle.

Christine.

A rattling breath left his lungs, the last echo of a finale all gone wrong and succumbed to darkness.

Every detail, every breath; memorised, categorised. Crimson of his cloak and the crystal gasp of her voice, echoing 'Yes, of course', cementing her devotion, her voice, herself to him. Erik.

Two beats of sincerity. Begging the world, the most miniscule deities, those he would never believe in, for her to whisper words that was salvation. Tears of a wasted past, tears of a child lost no longer. Tears of a monster turned man. For her. Christine. Down to the delicate dance of fingers, trespassing along his skin, sensation of an angel's head on his arm – touches of bliss that he had desired to savour, an exquisite dish, to recall and fondly re-live for the rest of his sorry, wonderful life. Christine, because Christine, his soaring Christine had come to him at last. His pretty little fiancé. Forsaken the world. For him. For Erik.

Euphoria, tasting sweeter than nectar from the Gods, better than the bliss of a meal from a man starving for days trapped in a desert. Better than all the years of torture, of terrible torture, of which led to that moment.

Ecstasy. His ecstasy delivered in one fell swoop.

The final brick to a wonderful new palace, imbued with hope. With light. And love; full of love.

Had he never felt love before? This was new, a mine untapped of elation, desirously and erratically unworried, tangling with life. Was it light then, that flowed around her that he greedily sucked in, encasing her beauty and knowing it was all his to cherish? Warm, she felt so warm and alive, ready and willing, heavenly scented and accepting. Never would his skin feel sunlight, for his soul had already grazed heaven. The strands of her hair kissed the skin of his neck, the gasping knowledge to know that would be a day when his hand would encircle hers.

Erik would never let her know horror or pain, keep her safe in his garden, Eve lush in her own natural beauty. And music, such music! A new opera, where the only tragedy was not enough happiness. She would be its centre, divine and rosy as she was – a sin to seek all of her was it not? Wrong, to keep at arm's reach, never to achieve completion, but blessed to even be given her presence, willingly! Willingly, she would love him, accept all he could offer.

Willingly, she would live. Oh – Erik could see it. Two windows, through lace drapes, mirror of three, four pictures upon the mantle. Ivory bedsheets, two sets of pillows and her. Sitting at the vanity, incandescent indigo hugging a figure of perfection, tips of ringlets brushing skin, his skin, fingertips running down the shape of her shoulder, following the line of her arching neck. A raised chin, lips pulling into a secret smile, pleasure lighting in earthy eyes. The nose that he had spent hours adoring, longing, begging to be admired. A question, perhaps a sigh, from her. One word reply.

Christine.

Erik was once content with a rare smile, a casual – sacred – glance of fingers brushing, but now…Now he wanted more.

Christine loved him enough to accept – how lucky a man was he! Slowly it would worm through, years of tender affection, music serenading, growing through all that was good and bad with the world. Their undeniable longing would bring her soul and heart to beat in time with his. Soon. She would love him.

Soon.

Erik knew soon there would be no more room to hide and he was content to wait. As he always had.

As he always will.

Antiseptic had been easy enough to come across; it had always been an essential. A sorry fact of his life that he had long come to terms with. Where gentlemen would carry a wallet, Erik would forever be bound by the carcass that inhabited his loathsome form. Bandages, a couple of high dosed pills and morphine was enough to reduce the wound to a dulling thud, but the satin brocade was rendered ruined. It caused him to snarl as it thudded to the floor, that boy dared shoot at Erik! A frenzy of horror had engulfed him, an unyielding panic that persisted through calculated movements, steady fingers not so steady, a millennium of tending to battle wounds. And what had changed? The only thing that Erik had been reckless for was a woman! Not for amusement, he had once danced with death as a rival, goading it to cleave his soul from his body and take him to another ether. Would have enjoyed the arrival of becoming nothingness.

But now. Now everything mattered.

Christine was gone.

Gone.

But not lost.

He would find her.

He would find her and protect her.

He would find her and make sure she would never run again.

For if he was a monster, then she would be the Monster's bride.

Cripes, that was difficult! Writing three male characters in one chapter, all in various stages of angst… phew wee XD It's probably not the chapter you expected, but it was the one you deserved, because we had to catch up with the boys ;D.

EDITING GAH. Takes longer than you think and feels longer than you know XD. It's all worth it, but man, I like seeing it ship-shape (pun unintended). XD (Is it a pun? I think it is? I'm tired so I'd probably find anything funny right now).

Also, to all my readers (1. thank you for reading!) but 2. Make sure to 'self-care'! It's rich since phanfiction is a self-indulgence for me, as I am sure it is for many, but take care of yourself, because you're worth it. You deserve to have nice things or do nice stuff. Grab a massage or take a walk in the park or spend some time pampering yourself in a way that makes you feel relaxed. You are allowed to simply exist. Our mental heath is so important! As the amazing Sierra Boggess says 'You are enough' and that just says it all, really. You are enough, so keep smiling :D.

PSA over. XD

Thank you to my kind reviewers, your comments make my heart warm, from waking up to it before work, or when I check the time (and maybe my emails…) in the middle of the night, they all really are appreciated: Laurenvbellado, TheTenthMuseSappho, Qtkittee, HoursofMazenduran, Wanderingwinter and last but not least, GoooooDalek (welcome!). All your conflicted points of view is awesome to see *I don't claim I'm not evil* because it means I'm doing my job well! Hehe. I'm very glad you liked the action-packed rooftop scene, and the Masquerade, as we all know it's been something that I've had planned for a long time. ;D It was delightful to write!

See you all next time!

(And have a happy spooky season!)

Enigma.