I reached the lake, cold and vast and deep, after limping along for longer than I would've thought I could have. The Viscomte de Chagny kept pace with me, remaining just far enough behind me that he could see where I went but he thought I was unaware of him.

"Christine?" I called across the water.

"Erik?" I heard a hopeful cry in return.

"Christine, I need your help, please. I need you to bring the boat to me. I do not have very long."

"What? Angel?" she sounded horribly worried. I cursed myself for making her worry. "Where am I bringing the boat?"

"Just follow my voice, paddle straight out from the landing, and don't stand on the boat, I don't want you to endanger yourself," I called, trying to sound more soothing. I pressed my hand to the stab wound, which was radiating sharp, lingering spikes of pain in all directions. And hurry, I begged her silently, I don't want to be completely useless this last time I see you, but I'm so weak.

Behind me, I could hear Raoul approaching me. "Monsieur le Viscomte," I said, fighting for the breath to propel my words, "Please don't mistake me for a fool. I've heard you following me this whole time."

I didn't have it in me to turn to face him, but I knew he could only have been a few feet behind me now. My hand rested on the handle of the knife I'd pilfered from him. I wished I possessed the strength to turn and jam that knife deep into the other man's chest, but I forgot entirely about my quarrels with the viscomte when I saw Christine approaching in the boat.

"Here, Christine," I called, lifting my arm and waving weakly at her. She seemed relieved when she caught sight of me, and I pulled the viscomte's cloak closer around myself in an effort to disguise how badly I was hurt.

"Christine!" the viscomte hollered from behind me.

"Raoul?" The way Christine said his name was almost lyrical. My heart, which had been soaring at the mere sight of her approaching, fell faster than a stone. I felt strangely hollow inside.

I felt Raoul put a heavy hand on my shoulder as he stepped out next to me. The weight of his hand against my shoulder made me sway. I feared that I would fall.

Christine was close now, the boat was maybe ten feet out. "Erik?" she asked, furrowing her brow. She looked horribly concerned, but when her gaze flicked to the viscomte, all her worry washed away.

Please, I silently begged the viscomte, please just allow me to say goodbye. One last act of kindness for poor Erik before death takes him.

As Christine reached out to grab ahold of the landing the viscomte and I stood on, Raoul de Chagny shoved me over far harder than would have honestly been necessary to subdue me. I collapsed, unable to even move my arms to try and catch myself. The hood fell away from my face as the rest of the cloak twisted around my body, thankfully hiding the majority of the injuries I sustained at the hands of the viscomte from Christine, who let out a horrible shriek as she laid her eyes upon me.

"Raoul!" she cried, "What's happened to him? Let me go!"

I was beginning to have a hard time focusing my eyes as I stared up at them, trying to make sense of what had happened, what was still happening. The viscomte had Christine, my poor Christine, by the arms and was holding her back. She looked so frightened and so sad, and she was trying to come and comfort her poor Erik.

"Raoul please!" she begged as she tried to pull away from him, "Raoul, what have you done to him?" She finally tore herself way from the fop, who glared down at me with nothing but anger in his eyes as the girl who had chosen him, who had always chosen him, fell to her knees beside me, hesitantly taking my head into her lap.

"Christine," I said, trying to raise my hand to wipe away the tears that were streaming down her cheeks, but I was too tangled in fabric. It was for the best, I would've likely smeared blood across her perfect face, just another ugly stain I would be the cause for. "Don't cry," I begged her, "Please don't cry for Erik. If it is his time, Erik would rather remember you the way he most admired you." My body was wracked with a horrible coughing fit, blood spraying across her chest as I was unable to control myself. "Oh Christine, I'm so sorry-"

"Hush now," she begged, "save your strength, we'll take you away from here, get you the help you need." Her voice was growing ever more shrill, her face ever more panic-stricken. Over her shoulder, I could still see Raoul glaring down at me. I knew what he was thinking because it was the same thing I was. Erik did not deserve the tenderness with which she held me.

"Will you sing for me?" I asked, my voice a raspy whisper. Christine nodded, almost too eagerly, as she pressed her hand to my cheek. The warmth of her skin was like heaven, and I knew it was the closest I would come to such a place.

Christine cleared her throat and tried to steady herself from how she cried before she began singing an old lullaby I hadn't heard since I'd eavesdropped at the window of another child one night during my own childhood. I stared up at her, drinking in every second of the song as her beautiful voice echoed through the cavern.

When she had finished singing, I heaved a great sigh and I closed my eyes. Christine shook me by the shoulders, then cradled my head to her chest as horrible sobs ripped through her chest. She would never know that my death was caused by her lover.

I became very, very still, and after sobbing over the loss of her angel of music for a long time, I felt Christine press her lips to my forehead. I managed to smile slightly as Raoul finally pulled her away from me. I couldn't hear what he told her in order to get her to go down the tunnel so she wouldn't see what he did next.

I was pulled from the floor roughly and cradled momentarily against another chest before I fell. The water was cold and deep and dark, and my lungs protested only for a moment as I breathed in what would be my last breath. Death came for me at last, and I would haunt the opera house no more.

Fin