PART I
They stood silent. Christine's chest heaved as she turned her blurry gaze to the sight of Raoul struggling to free himself from the Phantom's noose.
"Make your choice," the Phantom growled, tugging on the rope slightly as if to remind Christine of the power he held over them.
Her eyes flitted between the horror of the Phantom's wicked glower and Raoul's now scarlet complexion. What choice did she have? Eternal darkness and freedom for her love, or a life free from the Phantom's dangers but a life devoid of Raoul's warm love. There was no choice.
Taking a deep breath, Christine tore her eyes away from Raoul who now stood still, willing her to save herself, and faced the rippling muscles of the Phantom's terrifying face. It was the face she would say every night and every morning, for the rest of her days. She contorted her face into an expression of love and admiration and gazed into the Phantom's eyes.
"Pitiful creature of darkness," Christine cooed, "what kind of life have you known?" She watched confusion flickered in the Phantom's mien, and he blinked before allowing a glimmer of hope to emerge in the form of a slight smile. "God give me courage to show you, you are not alone."
Christine caressed the Phantom's deformed cheek and closed the distance between them. The Phantom let out a small breath of shock. Their lips moulded together, massaging hotly and sweetly. The Phantom's hand rose tentatively to grasp Christine's head, as if to confirm that she was not another one of his nightly fantasies. Realising it was in fact reality, the Phantom broke away in alarm and questioned Christine with his gaze. Christine feared that her desperation and despair was too evident in her countenance and forced the Phantom into an embrace to evade his inquisitorial stare. Hoping to reassure him of her choice, her sacrifice, to stay, Christine once again grasped the Phantom face and pulled herself up to another kiss. She heard Raoul's anguished roar in the background. Her heart clenched into a tight ball of pain, and Christine kissed the Phantom more furiously, reminding herself that this was for Raoul. She swiped her tongue across the Phantom's plump lips, willing them to open and intertwine his tongue with hers. The Phantom tentatively accepted her invitation and gasped at the invasion of her tongue.
Thinking that she had sufficiently convinced the Phantom of her decision, Christine pulled away from the Phantom's embrace and looked up at him in hope. She hoped that he would honour his end of the bargain and let Raoul go. She hoped that in their years to come, the monstrosity of his soul would never re-emerge. She hoped she made the right choice. The Phantom's expression screwed into despondency and thick tears streamed down the ripples of his deformity. As he wept, the Phantom sunk to his knees and maintained a firm embrace around Christine's waist.
"Phantom?" She called and bit her lip. Perhaps the title 'Phantom' served as a continued reminder of his state as a pariah. Perhaps it would remind him of the darkness within. "Angel?" Christine now called. She stroked his thin wisps of hair, willing him to answer. His howls ceased and he faced her.
"Unbind him." Christine released a breath of release and turned to free Raoul. Before she could move, the Phantom grasped her wrist. "But you return to me. You belong to me." Ignoring the fear bubbling in her heart, Christine nodded and tugged herself away from him.
She ran to Raoul and tugged him free. Now able to breathe again, Raoul took a deep breath and reached for his sword. Christine swiftly placed her hand on top of his. "No Raoul."
"I must, Christine. I'll be damned if you have to live with this diabolical fiend. I can't let you."
"I am not seeking your permission, Raoul. It's not up to you to let me." She reached for the lever and opened the gate to the Phantom's lair. In the background, the Phantom called out to her. Raoul grasped her shoulders and leant his forehead to hers, his breath hot against her lips.
"I worked so hard to free you," he sobbed, "but in the end it was all in vain. If I didn't… If I hadn't…" Christine put her finger to his lips, silencing him. "It's over now. I love you. Now you must go." Christine blinked back tears and pressed a sweet kiss upon Raoul's lips, before pushing Raoul past the gate and shutting him out. Raoul cried out and she turned from him, hoping he was blind to her agony. If this is his last sight of her, she wanted to be the very picture of courage. No more was she Little Lotte. It was Christine's turn to protect Raoul.
Christine returned to the Phantom who stood at the centre of his lair, waiting for her. His eyes lit up as he watched her return to him, and he extended one arm to her.
"Say you'll share with me one love… one lifetime. Lead me, save me from my solitude. Say you want me with you here beside you." The Phantom moved a curtain away from the great mirror in his parlour, unveiling a dark tunnel. Sensing Christine's trepidation, the Phantom gripped her hand and stroked her creamy flesh.
"You alone can make my song take flight," He took a step into the passageway, leading Christine away from his lair, "Help me make the music of the night." Together, they disappeared into the darkness.
"Monsieur le Vicomte!" The guard called to Raoul, eyes widening at the sight of his dripping torn clothes.
After Christine pushed him away from the lair, Raoul heard the distant drums of the soldiers and he swiftly sprang to action, aiming to find back up. If he were quick, maybe he could find them. He knew that the Phantom, a master at evasion and deceit, would not be so foolish as to stay in the lair after the debacle he caused in front of a full house at the Opera.
"Did you see the monster, sir? Did you find him?" Raoul nodded. "Follow me, I know where his lair is."
The guard called out for more guards behind him and followed Raoul to the lair. When they arrived, they found that the gate had already been forced open and an amalgamation of guards and hands of the Palais Garnier were investigating every inch of the lair. Amongst them, Raoul recognised the blonde girl that lingered around Christine.
"You. You're Christine's friend, aren't you?" She turned to Raoul, surprised to see him in the lair and alive.
"Vicomte! Yes! I'm Meg Giry," she introduced, curtsying slightly to Raoul's elevated rank. It was a peculiar thing to see a woman dressed in a white billowing shirt and braies curtsying to a dishevelled and damp Vicomte next to an underground lake. It seemed to be the situation where propriety should be forgotten. After all, a mutual friend and lover had been abducted.
"You shouldn't be here. I doubt your mother would be pleased." Meg frowned at this and puffed out her chest.
"Christine is my friend and if I had the opportunity to save her, I had to pursue it." She surveyed her surroundings and deflated a little. "Although, I must have failed. She is gone. It's over."
Rage filled Raoul, and his determination to save Christine was fuelled by the conflict his unquenchable longing for Christine and deep hatred for the Phantom. "It is not over. I will find her." Meg sighed exasperatingly and shook her head.
"There is nothing here, Vicomte. We have all been searching for a clue, any sign that may hint at what might have happened to them. They've just vanished, sir. All I could find was this," Meg held out a white object towards him. It was the Phantom's mask. Raoul took it, studying its ivory contours and reliving the nightmares that haunted him. He then slipped it into his pocket and faced Meg's quizzical expression.
"The Phantom is out there bare-faced. The Phantom may be master of the night, but I control the day and even he cannot hide his disfigurement in the light."
"Are we to stay in this crypt forever then?" Christine trembled. She was still in the wedding dress that the Phantom had forced her to wear in the lair. As thick as it was, Christine trembled from the cold as she got drenched from the rain, allowing the cold water to seep through to her skin.
The Phantom stood at the entrance, shaking off some droplets of rain off his cloak. "The lair is riddled with those buffoons. But we will not stay here. I may be the living image of death, but even I enjoy the comfort of warmth every now and again."
Was he joking? Christine wondered. Confusion morphed into anger. How could he joke around after what we had been through? She decided not to humour him. Christine might have chosen to be the Phantom's bride, but she could not, would not, forget what he had done. As pitiful a creature he is, he had murdered two people within the span of a year and had attempted to murder Raoul too.
Oh Raoul. What was he doing now? Was he wallowing in despair for her? Pining for her? Or worse? Had he given up on her? Christine didn't know what was worse - Raoul spending his days loving her and chasing a madman, or Raoul abandoning all hope on her but living safely. Perhaps it was best if he gave up and found happiness with another woman. The Phantom is much too powerful and cunning. Whatever road they took, the Phantom would be there, victorious. Christine reassured herself that this was the best decision she could have made.
"What, then, is your plan, Angel?" Christine glared. The Phantom ceased his actions and stepped towards Christine.
"Talking back, are we?" His brow arched as he placed a finger beneath her chin and tilted her face to look at him.
"You are not my master anymore."
"Oh yes I am, my Christine," he snarled, "This was your choice. I am the man in your life now. You are mine. You will obey me; you will adore me, and you will love me."
"Because nothing says love like aggression and domination. That tells me how much you love me."
The Phantom's eyes softened, focusing on Christine's cherry lips. "Surely you know. I love you, Christine," He whispered.
A resurgence of pity waved through Christine. She could see the years of loneliness and longing in his countenance. While she and Raoul had basked in each other's love, the Phantom had succumbed to isolation, pining for the tender touch of any woman. After countless years of solitude, the Phantom found her also alone and yearning for a father's guidance. They found solace in music and each other all those years, finally finding a semblance of happiness. As Christine's happiness blossomed as she found love in Raoul, the Phantom's scarce source of happiness was threatened and sprouted into malice. His actions may have been diabolical, but were they not out of his desperate love for her? Christine knew that beneath the face of terror and malevolence was a lonely boy both inspired and denied of beauty and love.
"Yes, Angel. I know."
