do not read this if your under age!

dad i did't right it my friend Derrik did

Chapter 12. There Was No Light

A year had passed, and now she stood there, I couldn't see her for when she opened the door the candle blew out.

"You, you came?" I said, and put my hand to my unmasked face.

"I had to tell you I'm getting married tomorrow." Christine said. "It didn't feel right not telling you."

"Why? So you could rub what would be my nose in the fact I didn't win, then go and shower your young Raoul with kisses?"

"No. Angel, I don't know why, I just felt as I need to tell you."

I turned away from her and said. "I'm no angel, you're the angel."

"You are to me. A strange one but an angel no doubt."

She placed her hand on my shoulder, and I took it in mine and kissed it then sang softly. "Christine I love you."

Then she kissed my deformed face, not covered by my mask. A kiss goodbye was all it was, a single kiss goodbye.

But I didn't let go of her hand, I couldn't let go if I wanted to, if I did and she left at that moment, I would unquestionably die from a broken heart.

She knew I truly did love her, and she kissed me again, this time on my lips.

I whimpered a small whimper, and then my tongue found its way into her mouth, playing with hers while we grew closer.

I wrapped my arms around her, not wanting to let this moment go, and she stoked what little hair I had

Then in a strange blazing rage, I threw us to the wall and I began to kiss her neck, while she slowly took to the buttons on my shirt.

This was the release we needed. To get away from our horrors and realities and just be with each other, in the dark, alone, away from disapproving eyes and voices.

I knew little of sex, only what I've read in book, and I had been rapped the night I ran away to the opera house, only a few weeks before I met Christine, but somehow we both knew what to do.

As I finally got her undergarments away from her skin, she was long since done with my clothing; all that was left was to unite as one.

I had promised myself it would only be done with Christine, but I never thought it would be like this, feeling each other, fumbling and trying to find each other's pleasures, and then when I finally got her to my bed, I felt my hardened organ slip into her, causing me to gasp as I broke her barrier.

"Eric…" She said, gripping the sheets in pain at the loss of her virginity. I pulled back thinking I had done something wrong but she just whispered. "More."

And so I thrust myself into her, moving in a circle to please us both, causing her to cry out loud enough to wake all of Paris as she tightened around me.

"Oh Christine…..my Christine!" I said between kisses, I had now moved from her neck to her breasts, which immediately warmed as I grasped them.

This was more than just sex, no, this truly was making love. Passionate, meaning full, and I could feel ourselves flow together.

There wasn't a single inch of her she didn't allow me to take, and when I was tiered but not yet ready to stop, she did something I never thought she would, but I'm glad she did.

She ran her mouth down from my neck, across my chest to my arms, then without even taking her mouth away, she took to the base of my organ.

This feeling made my eyes widen, I had to bite down on my hand to keep from screaming in joy as she kissed it down to the tip, where she traced the head with her finger then licked the entire thing, then placed it in her mouth and hummed, swallowing as I emptied into her.

My hand now had bite marks that could never heal on them, and as I filled her that male substance, I screamed her name, over and over until I hurt my voice.

Then I pulled her up to me flipped her under me, shoving my man-hood into the no longer virgin opening, all while gently nibbling her ear and thanking god in my mind. Suddenly she had awoken a beast inside, me, an animal that desperately need to mate.

Then we laid there together in silence, promising to never leave each other.

But then just before she fell asleep in my arms, there was a pounding at the door, they had found us.

"Christine get up!" I whispered. "Get dressed they found us!"

"Let them see us." She said. "I love you. I'll prove you innocent."

"No foolish woman, get up and get dressed!"

As she placed her dress on her moist body and I only had the time to get my pants on as I heard the front door crash to the floor.

I opened the door to my wardrobe, reviling a passage out, and pushed her in just before the men in uniform came in, turned on the light and beat me to the ground with the ends on their guns.

I stopped moving to fake my death as they searched the house for Christine, then to my horror they found the wardrobe, and Christine had not left. The sweet foolish woman didn't leave me.

Then the smock Raoul came in and took my Christine in her arms and mistook her cries for my life as cried of fear of what I have done to her, he told her she would never have to see me again.

I wanted to get up and murder them all, but Christine deserved better, so I just lay there and let them take her away.

My friend Madam Giry took me to New York City, where the place was so filled with strange people I could walk about in my mask. I made a name for myself by becoming the leader of a notorious gang where I became rich under the name Mr. E. I was no longer the Phantom of the Opera.

When I had made more than a living, I invested in a small amusement park witch grew to be the most famous in the world. The Coney Island Amusement Park.

I was always pestered by something or another, a bad review, workers slacking off, people spreading stories about dead bodies in the house of mirrors (If I don't find out where that is coming from I'm going to have to close that down because people keep vandalizing it), but the thing that bothered me most was that no matter where or when it was, on Coney Island people were always in pairs, I myself couldn't go down to the piers without herring the sound of people coupling. And I was a man with needs that mere touching could not satisfy. I needed Christine; no one could or even be allowed to pleasure me but her.

And so I sent for the highly famous opera diva so she would sing her first American show at Coney Island.

She came the first day of July, and with her came the fool Raoul and the little girl with blond hair I heard was there daughter. The girl's name was Erica.

They had named her in my memory, the child, and I saw the only toy she was allowed to bring with her was a rag doll with red string hair and stiches to keep it from coming apart, obviously something they hoped to get her to leave behind by "mistake" so they wouldn't see it again. Something was strangely different but familiar about her.