A/N: K this chappy is gonna be from Raoul's POV, as much as I hate him I think its quite entertaining to write from his view, as weird as that seems. Sorry my last chapter was so short, this one should be longer.

Jamea: My first reviewer! thanks for reviewing, I really appreciate it.

I know the last chapter kinda sucked, this one will be much better I promise you.

Chapter 2:

Raoul's eyes fluttered open as he sat in silence, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the poorly lit chamber in which he then resided. He studied the room with his increasingly weary eyes, barely able to open them because of his exhaustion. There was a disgustingly large amount of mold and mildew growing out from every corner of the room, filling the room with a putrid odor of stagnant water and rot.

Knowing that damn Phantom, he would hardly have been surprised if the mold was not the cause of the vulgar aroma of decay. He forced back a gag as he thought of Christine, laying where he now lay, eyes blank and glazed over, her body pale and lifeless, just another victim of that hideous monster of a man.

"No, I will not let that happen to my Christine" Raoul's voice trembled as he spoke to the dark and dampness that surrounded him, hardly believing the words that came out of his own mouth.

He forced himself into a sitting position, dragging his gaze from the grimy , moist stone floor , now littered with empty expensive liquor bottles, to the once white and smooth sheets he had brought for a slight relief at night from the dampness and hardness of the floor, that was now covered with dirt, grime, and a mixture of lake water and liquor.

"I can't take much more of this", he whispered to himself. He instantly cursed himself for saying that. He would risk anything for his Christine. But in three weeks, he had gone from the handsome, charming, well-groomed Vicomte to a worthless drunk drowning his misery in liquor, and he honestly couldn't remember the last time he had showered.

He grimaced and furrowed his brow as he slammed his fist into the hard stone floor, letting out a cry of frustration. He had been searching for three weeks! He had searched every passage, then every wall, every crevice, hoping to find a secret lever or some sort of contraption that would lead him to her, and that..thing!

He let out a resounding growl that echoed off the walls of the cavern he had discovered three weeks ago, about three hours after Christine had been taken away from him. He closed his eyes, tears flowing down his grungy unshaven cheeks, as the memories of that night came flooding back to him.

He stared in shock as he witnessed his fiancé press her lips to those of that horrible monster in a more passionate kiss than he himself had ever shared with Christine. He felt a wave of jealousy as Christine seemed to sigh under the power of his kiss, finally regaining herself and pulling back from his embrace.

His jealousy was immediately evaporated as he looked into Christine's eyes, those of which were staring intently into the eyes of the man she had just kissed. Her eyes said everything that needed to be said.

Her eyes were pleading with the Phantom, begging him to release Raoul and let him go free, and in return she would give herself to him completely. Raoul couldn't let her do this! She had such a good life, she couldn't waste it for his sake!

There was a stifling silence in the lair, except for the sounds of the approaching mob, but Raoul was not going to get his hopes up by thinking they would find them. He had so many traps and contraptions that there was no way they would get down to the lair before the mob was killed or trapped.

Finally Raoul broke the silence by pleading to Christine, "Don't throw your life away for my sake!"

The Phantom turned and glared at him, before giving the rope around his neck one last gigantic yank. Raoul felt the breath leave his lungs and he almost completely lost consciousness, but he could feel the restraints tied across his chest being released and the lasso around his neck roughly torn off.

Through his blurred vision he could see Christine looking at him with sorrow for the life that was ahead of her, and relief that Raoul was not killed. Raoul could remember nothing after that except the CLANG of the steel gate as he watched it close in front of him, the metal gears locking into place. He grasped the bars of the gate, screaming Christine's name repeatedly, and getting no reply, he sank to his knees and began to weep.

He awoke two hours later and discovered he had blacked out in front of the Phantom's lair, and peered through the gates, unable to see anything but darkness. He no longer heard the mob, and figured they had either given up searching or been killed.

As the memory of what had happened only hours before rushed back to him, he had to choke back the sobs that threatened to surface once again. It was then that he realized he was freezing to the bone, and looked down and noticed he was completely soaked in lake water, having lost consciousness in the Phantom's lake. His teeth started chattering as he pulled himself up and sloshed through the water until he got to a dark passageway that was not submerged.

He collapsed on the floor and let the darkness envelop him as he took a few shaky breaths to calm his racing heart. He knew he had not been in the water long enough to get pneumonia, but he risked the chance of getting it if he continued wearing the soaking clothes that were chilling him to the bone.

Raoul stubbornly ignored this fact and began crawling on his hands and knees, knowing there had to be some other way to get into the Phantom's lair except by the gate. His tears were once again flowing freely now as he searched the floor for trapdoors or hidden switches. After about thirty minutes of searching, his foot caught on a metal ring sticking out of the floor, hidden by about 10 years of dust and mold.

His heart began racing as he tugged on the ring with all his might, struggling with it for ten minutes before realizing that the passage had probably settled over the years, and the door was probably jammed. With this newly found information, he gave the door a hard kick, causing dust to stir and make him sneeze. The door would still not budge, and he prayed to God as he gave the door one last kick. He heard the door shift, and he gave one last pull on the door before he heard a satisfying 'click' as the door opened towards him.

A horrible odor wafted up from the room below, and he choked back a gag as he fought the urge to close the door once more. He frowned as he realized it was too dark to see anything below, and he had no candles or matches to provide light. Plus, he was freezing and knew he could not remain there much longer.

Making up his mind, he picked himself up from the ground, and closed the door carefully, giving it another tug to make sure it would open again. He made a mental note in his mind of where he was, making sure to remember the mold-covered lion statue standing against the left wall.

Knowing he would be returning soon, he swiftly left the underground labyrinth, going out the way he had come, careful to step over the trap he had fallen in when he had first come there.

When he returned to the de Chagny estate, ignoring his maids' questioning gazes at his appearance, he packed everything he would need for about a month, not knowing how long he would be in that hell hole, knowing only that he would not leave until he had Christine by his side.

He spent four hours preparing for his long day ahead, locking the door of his bedroom so the maids and butlers would quit disturbing him. He packed an abundant amount of food and beer, knowing he would not drink much of the beer, but wanted to have it just in case.

He packed all his guns and swords, along with the sheets off his bed and two pillows. He retrieved a pack of matches and ten candles from the top drawer of his bureau, and finally feeling prepared for the long day ahead of him, he went into the bathroom to take a shower and change into warm clothes.

He went to bed without supper, feeling totally drained of all his energy, wanting to get all the sleep possible because he would be leaving at dawn. He fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillows, sleeping in the bedroom that would have been his and Christine's to share.

When he awoke the next morning, he ate two hard biscuits and a cup of hot tea, barely tasting any of it, then running outside to catch the carriage he had called for that would take him to the Paris Opera house.

When he arrived, he was surprised to find the place abandoned, there were not even any police investigating the area or nosy passerbyers observing the destroyed opera house. He silently thanked God for this miracle as he slipped through the Rue Scribe entrance Christine had revealed to him on one of their evenings together.

He switched all his bags to one hand as he used the other to feel along the wall until he came to the lake, and paused to retrieve a candle from his bags. Quickly lighting it, he observed the many passages until he found the one with the lion statue in the corner, and snuffing out the candle he retrieved his bags and headed towards the passage. The trapdoor on the floor now stood out easily to him, and he stooped over to yank at the ring as it opened with a loud creak.

Setting down his bags, he once again lit his candle and lowered his hand into the room below so that the candle gave off a light glow that lit up the entire room below him.

It was a cavern, one that looked as if it hadn't been used for about fifteen years. It was filled with dust and mold, but he figured it would be the best place for him to stay without getting sick or having the Phantom find him. He pulled his hand out of the room, and dropped his bags into the cavern before slipping inside himself. There were a few crates at one side of the room, and he pulled them to where they were stacked right underneath the trapdoor, so all he had to do was crawl on top of them to get out.

He quietly unpacked his stuff, putting his weapons in one corner, making his makeshift bed in the other, and putting his food he had stuffed into containers beside the bed. Feeling confident about his new home, he climbed on top of the crates and crawled out of the room, closing the trapdoor as he began his search to find Christine.

It had been three weeks, and he had found nothing that led him to Christine. As he came out of his daze he pulled another beer and some crackers out of the food containers, preparing himself for another day of searching.

He did not know where he was planning on searching, as he had searched so much he could not remember which passage he had been down and which one he had not, and he was starting to lose faith. But he was a very determined man, and would not stop searching until Christine was back in his arms once again.