Yeah, peeps, it's that time again... A new chapter! Hooray! Well, anyway, I really have nothing to say. Enjoy Chapter Six, it's a tough one, I cried when I wrote it, I don't own any of the characters, etc., just read it, okay?

P.S. - I know it's short. Really, really short. Bear with me here.

Tragedy

Paris police filed steadily through the main entrance doors of the Opera Populaire, guns poised and at the ready. Somewhere a whistle sounded, and harsh boots tapped in unison across the tile floors. Christine looked on, fearful and helpless to change anything. She silently slipped away from the crowd of gaping onlookers, passing from shadow to shadow on her way to the cellars. She knew she had to warn Erik before these pursuers found him.

She heard shouting as she raced down a long corridor, bare feet slapping softly against the cold, hard ground. Panting, she came to a corner from which she could see the Phantom's lair. The girl gasped, and covered her lips with her hands to muffle the scream welling from deep within her. She watched in horror, utterly unable to move, as the man she loved was surrounded by murderers with rifles. Shots rang out, and Christine's hands flew to her ears in a futile attempt to block out the sounds which she would her, echoed in her memories, for the rest of her life.

As Erik fell, her own world shattered. She finally did scream when she saw his prone body hit the cold, unforgiving floor, blood blossoming from the wound in his chest. Unable to stand the macabre scene any longer, she slid down the wall that had been supporting her, cradled her head on her knees, an wept until she fell into the exhausted sleep of one who has nothing left to live for.