A/N: Many of you have remarked that Christine did not know Erik's name in the movie. Although most of this has the same layout as the movie, there are several differences. In my version she does know his name. Kay?

Also there might have been some confusion with the way I worded something in the last chapter. It is Erik who sings the words that Raoul had sang to here after past the point of no return. If there with any confusion with the way I wrote that I apologize.

Now I present the second installment of this story…sorry that it is so short. Today was the last day of school, so I am a bit depressed so my writing isn't coming that well today. I said goodbye to my favorite teacher ever and my goodness. She is an amazing person! I hope everything goes well for here.

Enjoy!

Black despair

Christine sat on a cold chair outside a café close to the Opera Populaire. She could still hear screaming from inside the giant building. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying to forget the fact that she would probably never see Erik again. The very thought sent tears skating down her smooth cheeks.

"Christine, are you alright?" Came the voice of Raoul. She knew she would have to tell him the truth soon and she could waste no time leading him on this road that surely came to a dead end. After they had left the catacombs underneath the opera house Raoul had brought her to sit outside the café. He knew she was worried about Madame Giry and Meg so they decided to wait until the received news on the ladies. Yet while sitting here Christine had thought things over and realized the sooner she told Raoul that she couldn't marry him the sooner they could both begin a new life and start over.

True that she loved Raoul. She had since they were children. But she soon realized she didn't love him the way one is supposed to love their spouse. She loved him like a friend. He didn't make her feel as if her body was on fire, he didn't make her heart race. His touch didn't make her feel weak in the knees and his voice didn't make her feel anything except trapped.

Why had she been so blind until now? Why was it that it took her having to kiss Erik to make her realize that he was the one she truly loved. He was the only one who made her feel passion burning within her soul. His words alone caressed her and caused her to long for his ghost like touches.

Now she was sure she would live the rest of her days alone, because if she couldn't love Erik and have him loving her, then she would rather be alone.

Erik stood, his fingers touching the place on his cheek where Christine had slapped him moments before. He was keeping her prisoner? How could that be possible? She had a wonderful life set out in front of her, yet he would always haunt her. A part of him felt satisfied at the thought, another part felt guilty.

"Oh Christine," he said softly, his head dropping on his shoulders. He was sure that he would never see her again. He had always hoped that Christine would love him back. That she would be able to forgive his past and what he hid behind the mask. But deep down he always believed an angel such as she could never love a beast like him.

Tonight only proved it, even though she claimed that she would never be free of him she did after all leave with that foolish boy. She only came back to give him the blasted ring. And now she had left him again.

"Good!" He said, "I will rot in hell either way, why should I enjoy the rest of my miserable life." He murmured as he grabbed a cape and headed through on of the mirrored passageways. There was nothing left for him here anymore and he could hear the mob coming closer and closer if he stayed behind he would surely be caught. He didn't even turn to look back, to him he was closing another painful chapter in his life and to look back would only make it more painful.

Cold air hit his face as he stepped out onto the cold Parisian Street several blocks away from the opera house. Luckily enough many of his passages led to other buildings, so chances were he wouldn't have to run into the mob. He continued walking down this street until he came upon an old building, a sign hanging above the doorway, swaying with the wind. He opened the door and went inside, he walked over to the front counter. Upon seeing the man in the white mask the man behind the counter immediately fumbled around and grasped the right key on a little board with hooks behind him. He handed it to Erik, who shot the man a cold look. Erik had replaced his mask before leaving his lair not wanting to draw any attention to himself, which the right side of his face would surely attract.

Erik headed up a flight of stairs and turned down a dimly lit hall. He came to a stop in front of a door with the number 115 on it. He inserted the key into the lock and opened the door walking into the less than grand room. He swiftly closed the door behind him and headed over to the bed, upon which he collapsed. He was so exhausted from all that happened that for the first time in a week he was finally able to sleep.