Chapter 4 The unthinkable loss
Christine could feel the wind rushing past her, her dress fluttering in the air, the edges of the Phantom's cape beating against her leg. It was as if they were falling forever, with no bottom to catch them. The only security she felt was being held in the arms of her guide, her guardian, her angel. She could feel the beating of his chest against her cheek as she held onto him with the grip of death, and he onto her. It was all surreal, a dream she couldn't wake from. Hours earlier she had begged Raoul to save her from this fate, and told him that what she once dreamed she now dreaded. It was fate, she knew it had to be. Fate a force so powerful, none could stop it. She had succumbed to it.
Erick was curling his torso, wrapping his legs around Christine's, trying to estimate how they would land. Whatever else happened, he wanted to cushion her fall. He knew the many bails of hay that lay beneath them would break their fall so that life and limb would be spared.
He had wished, dared to dream that he would have Christine in his arms at last, but hadn't planned on taking her down this rugged escape. His own bodily harm didn't concern him, but he hadn't anticipated having to protect her from such a fall. He was accustomed to it, trained for it, but she would have no idea what to expect.
The longing, the anticipation, the adrenaline rushing through him as he felt her in his arms at last. The sharp flash of light shown past his eyes and he knew it was just a story more and they would land in the fresh pile of hay. He grasped her more tightly about the waist and curved himself as much as his skeleton would allow, wrenching around so that his back faced directly toward their target.
With a loud thud they hit bottom. The force knocking the wind out of Erick, and no doubt out of Christine as well. They lay still for a few seconds before he could breathe. Christine had not moved a muscle. He looked down and over the large lump beneath his cape and gasped as it remained motionless.
He moved ever so slightly to the side as if trying to slip from under a sleeping baby, daring not to wake it. He lifted first one flap. Still no movement. Then the other flap. There she lay against his chest eyes closed, and motionless.
NO! NO! God no! He had to check. He placed his hand slightly on her chest. He could feel nothing. Not wanting to delve his hand under her garments, he placed his hand near her mouth to feel for a breath. Holding it there for a few seconds. Nothing….NO! NO! NO! He had meant to save her, to love her, to bring her into his world, not take her from this one.
Slipping out from underneath her, he gently laid her in the hay. He jumped up, standing over her motionless frame. Even in this dimness and position she was still the most exquisite creature he had ever laid eyes upon. To harm such a delicate treasure was unthinkable.
He reeled a few feet away, looking down at her, grasping the length of his hair in his hands as if the very tension and pain of his pulling would provide some relief from this horror. "Christine…Christine…." His voice trailed off as the tears began to roll down his cheek.
He laid down next to her body, still warm to the touch. He could live no longer in this world if he had taken the one thing of true beauty out of it.