Hey everyone, It's been a long time, but I'm back with a new story. This is Erik/Christine pairing. I plan on posting a chapter a week until it's completed. Please comment and let me know what you think! Thanks again for all the fan mail requesting a new story. I hope you enjoy!

Paris, France was always known as the city of lights, but to me, it was a dull, dismal place. Patrons flocked to the opera house each and every night, excited to partake in another one of its wonderful operas; operas that I had trained day and night to perform. No, Paris was not the city of lights, but a prison, one that I wanted nothing more than to escape from.

Ever since my father had brought me here before his death, I had wanted to grow wings and fly as far away from it as possible. With my father gone, I had been thrown into a world of perfection, one that expected nothing more than just that from me. I wanted more than to just spend my life dancing the stages for all of Paris; I wanted to sing. I could float across the stage, my feet carrying me as though I were as light as a feather. I could perform everything that was asked of me, as long as I were as silent as a mouse. My job was to prance across the stage in silence, while the diva carried the tune. Most times, I found myself humming to the very song that was being sung, only to be scolded by our ballet mistress, Madame Giry. I couldn't stay silent, not while my heart was telling me otherwise. Though, I should have listened to Madame Giry, for my nightmare was just beginning.

One evening, a few years after arriving at the opera house, I had been punished for humming during rehearsals. Madame Giry had me stay behind one evening to collect the costumes after one of the opera's performances.

"Maybe this will teach you to dance in silence." Madame Giry told me as she was enforcing my punishment.

Even staying behind to collect the costumes could not silence me. Alone, and by candlelight, I pranced around the stage, collecting the discarded dresses and wigs, singing my heart out as my voice echoed throughout the auditorium. Little did I know that I was not alone.

"Your voice is one filled with wonder, my dear."

A soft, yet eerie sound frightened me, and immediately cut my song short. I looked around the auditorium but could not find a single soul.

"Do not be frightened, for I am the angel of music."

That was how my relationship with the Phantom of the Opera began. I didn't know at first that he was the one that was causing so much havoc around the opera house. I did not know the same person that was training my voice was the same murderous fiend that was writing note after threatening note to the managers, demanding that our lead diva be replaced. Everyone believed him to be a ghost, I believed him to be an angel, but I would soon find out that he was nothing more than a man; a man named Erik.

For years, I trained with this angel, believing him to be a voice and nothing more. I had grown from a small, naive child, into a young, independent woman. That's when everything suddenly changed. For years, I sat in the chapel, night after night, singing for the angel of music as he trained my voice with his knowledge of music and song. When there was nothing left to teach me, he told me that I was now to take my rightful place as the star of the opera house. It was around this time that my old friend Raoul had come back into my life, and I was so happy to see him again after so many years; that's when everything took a turn for the worst.

One evening, not long after, I was informed that our lead diva, Carlotta had become ill and that I was to sing in her place. I was nervous at first, but my angel told me that I would be perfect and that I should be happy. It was after my performance that he revealed himself to me as a man! He was not an angel after all, but the monstrous Phantom of the Opera! I didn't want to believe it at first, but as the moments passed and I looked up into his white mask that was as blinding as the sun, I knew that my nightmares had come true. As if things could not get any worse, I tore off his mask, wanting nothing more than to see what he had been hiding, only to find a monster beneath it. I could have been compassionate to this man, but I was so frightened, that I ran into the arms of my dearest friend Raoul. I never wanted to see the Phantom again, but I should have known that he wouldn't let things end like they had.

On Sundays, the opera house went dark in order to give everyone a day off so they could attend church or get together with family. I had no family to see, and after praying in the chapel every night before bed, the only other thing I could do was visit my father's grave. The cemetery was a far walk from the opera house; too far to do on just any day, but on Sundays, I always made the trip. The summer air had turned cold, and the cobblestone roads had been covered in a white dusting of freshly fallen snow. The holidays were quickly approaching, and I knew with it would bring the miserable sadness that I always felt during a time that was supposed to be filled with utter happiness.

By the time I reached my father's grave I was soaked from the falling snow and freezing cold. I placed my hands beneath my arms and looked down at my father's headstone, wishing nothing more than for him to still be here beside me. I tried to be strong but found that I had tears rushing to my eyes, tears that were being shed for every horrible thing that had happened to me over the past few weeks. I suddenly felt as though I were not alone, that feeling becoming nothing but the truth the moment I heard that familiar voice speak my name.

"Christine."

It sounded like a prayer, and I found my knees shaking the moment I heard him speak. I pressed my eyes closed and shook my head.

"Go away," I begged. "Please! Just go away."

I prayed that I would no longer hear his voice, but the Phantom was still there, for he continued.

"Please, Christine, I beg of you."

It was at that moment that I turned around to find him standing only a few feet away from me, dressed in his long black cloak and matching fedora. The winter wind caused his cloak to flow gracefully around him as if he were the very angel, he had disguised himself to be for many years.

"And why do you beg?" I angrily snapped, hot tears falling down my cheeks. "Have I not the right to shun you for what you have done? For the lies you have fed me for years?"

"As if you would have accepted me with open arms had I not lied." he shuttered. "You would not have treated me like everyone else; you would have seen me as nothing more than a misshapen creature."

I spun back around to face my father's grave, the cold wind causing my body to shiver uncontrollably.

"I am still the same person, Christine." he said after a few moments of deafening silence. "Ghost or human, I am still that same person that you spoke so kindly to. Though, I was a fool to believe that a beautiful girl such as yourself would ever see me as anything more than a demon."

I didn't say a word and continued to shiver from the cold. Next thing I felt was something warm being placed over my shoulders, only to turn and find that the Phantom had taken off his long coat and was placing it over me.

"Don't!" I cried, moving away from him.

I tore the garment from my shoulders and began to run in the opposite direction. The snow had completely covered the ground and it was hard to see where I was stepping. From behind me, I could hear the Phantom yelling for me to stop, but I didn't, I only quickened my pace. Though, my escape was short lived, for a few moments later, I felt the ground beneath my feet give way; and the next thing I saw being the water of the pond that I was now beneath. The freezing temperature of the water instantly stunned my body, and I sank to the black abyss below. I tried to swim, but I didn't know how, and soon, everything faded to black.

I gasped for breath and the blackness faded. I rubbed my tired eyes and no longer felt cold. Where was I? I looked at where I was and saw that I was sitting in a strange bed that I did not recognize. I did not recognize the room I was in, for I had never seen it before. The walls were lined with bookshelves that were completely packed with books of all shapes and sizes. In the far corner, there was a wooden desk with music scores spread all over its surface. I suddenly gasped and remembered the cemetery, and the pond, even the Phantom! I shot to my feet the moment I realized that my dress was missing and that I was only left wearing my white petticoat. Petrified about what would happen if I stayed a moment longer, I pulled open the door of the room I was in and ran down the dark corridor, turning the corner to find myself standing at the shore of an underground lake. The freezing water submerged my exposed toes, causing me to gasp, only to turn and find the Phantom hurrying towards me from the nearby corridor I had just come from.

"Christine, please," his voice painfully pleaded. "Come back inside before you catch your death."

"Where is my dress?" I cried. "My clothes!"

When he finally approached me, it became clear what had taken place. He was still in the same clothes he had been wearing at the cemetery; only they were now soaking wet. His black hair was no longer neatly slicked back, for it was drenched and hanging over his masked face. The Phantom shivered as a cool breeze blew from the dark corner of the stone stairs that led to a door that was high above us. I thought that he had taken me to some foreign place until I heard soft music echoing from above. The opera house! We were below the very place I had called home all these years! I ran towards those very stairs with the Phantom yelling for me to stop. I was up to my knees in freezing water, but I didn't care. I scrambled to the stairs, finding the opera ghost struggling to tread across the underground lake.

I pushed open the wooden door, finding myself in the hallway that led towards the chapel. I was free; free and away from the man who had taken me to his hellish world below the living. Without another word, I hurried to my room and hopped into my warm bed, just before Madame Giry entered to wake the remainder of the ballerinas up for Monday morning rehearsals. I was exhausted and my dress was missing, but I was no longer in danger. Being a ballerina in the opera house meant that my assortment of outfits was limited. The dress that I had been wearing the day before was the only other one I owned besides my rehearsal attire. I sighed in defeat when I realized that I was going to have to get it back before Madame Giry noticed it was gone.

Usually, during rehearsals I could always feel his presence, watching, lurking, and focusing on my every move. Today, however, I felt nothing but the music beneath my feet. Even when I sang, I still could not feel his presence, which was very odd.

"Is something wrong, my dear?" Madame Giry immediately approached me once rehearsals were finished.

I shook my head. "No, Madame."

It was as if she could see right through me, for she lifted my chin with her long walking staff and looked me dead in the eyes.

"Whatever is bothering you, you best fix it before tomorrow's show. I can sense trouble in your voice, and you need to be at your best."

I could only nod. When everyone was gone, I headed towards the familiar door that would take me back to hell. The descent down below once more was quiet, the only sound being an occasional drip of water from the stone ceiling. The Phantom's home was lit in a warm glow, but I sensed no movement. It was too early for him to be asleep, but perhaps the events that had occurred the day before had exhausted him. I was on the last stair and looked down at the black waters of the lake, knowing that I would have to be quiet as I made my way across it in order to remain unseen. Though, as soon as my foot stepped into the frigid waters, something latched onto my ankle and drug me below. My entire body was on fire as the freezing temperatures shocked every inch of me. I splashed and wailed my arms about in an attempt to make my way back to the surface, but it was no use, for whatever was latched onto my ankle had a tight grip on my body. If I did not resurface for air soon, I knew my life was going to be over.

Suddenly, from out of nowhere, I was lifted above the surface and I gasped for air. I could feel myself still moving, but everything suddenly ceased. When I dared to open my eyes, I spotted the Phantom standing over me, his arm wrapped tightly around what appeared to be a thick rope; the end of that rope being what was latched around my ankle. He was struggling to hold onto it, his face stricken with pain as he used every ounce of strength within him to cease it from pulling me back beneath the murky water.

"Loosen it, Christine!" he grunted, as his feet began to lose their balance. "Hurry!"

I didn't hesitate a single second and reached for my ankle, tugging at the knot as quickly as I could.

"Hurry, girl!" he cried.

I thought the rope was never going to loosen until finally, I was able to pick the knot, and the rope finally released me. As soon as my weight was no longer a factor, the Phantom fell in the water and was dragged towards the mechanism that the rope was being pulled into. His back slammed against the metal wall of bricks, his shoulder and arm became lodged as the gears jammed and tightly locked the slack of the rope into place.

I gathered to my feet, my body soaking wet and freezing cold. My ankle still slightly pained me, but I was free. I gazed towards the wooden door and wanted to escape, but I could only look back at the Phantom and see the agony he was in. The monster was trapped in his own device, the rope squeezing tightly around his ligament.

Leave... You can just leave! Those were the words that shouted at me from within my head. I should have left him to die, but this had been the second time he had saved me from certain death. Knowing what I had to do, I quickly approached him, my eyes scanning over the contraption in search of anything that would release the rope. Tighter and tighter the rope was becoming; the gruesome sound of snapping bones churned my stomach.

Finally, I saw an opening and the gears turning inside the contraption. I picked up a heavy rock that was about the size of my hand and lodged it between the gears. Soon smoke began to spew, and the gears finally snapped. With the machine now stopped, I was able to slowly untangle the rope from around his mangled arm. His clothes were drenched in the freezing water and his white shirt was torn from his left shoulder down to his stomach. There was a moment of silence between us, the only sound being his groans of pain as he attempted to gather to his feet. After a few moments of watching him struggle, I held out a shaking hand to him, still petrified over what he might do to me.

His icy blue eyes stared at my shaking hand, and he refused to take it, pushing himself through the pain all on his own. He was silent as he stumbled back into his home with me following behind him. I should have left, but I still felt some sort of responsibility for what had happened. It was as though I no longer existed, for I stood there in the monster's family room, dripping wet and shivering as he sat on his piano bench assessing the damage of his limb. Skeletal fingers glided over his left shoulder, and he winced in pain as soon as they touched it. The Phantom's mismatched eyes finally met with my own and he let out a low, yet painful command.

"Y...You should return to the opera."

I shivered, his home not being any warmer than the cellars. I stood there in silence, not knowing what to say. Finally, he motioned to the room I had found myself in the day before.

"Your dress... It's dry and hanging in the wardrobe."

Without another word, ran down the hall and into the room that was lit by several candles. I hurried, pulling open the wardrobe to find my dress hanging neatly, just as the Phantom said it was. I removed my soaking wet rehearsal attire and placed the dress over my shoulders, the warm fabric instantly drying my wet body. My eyes averted to the other clothes that were hanging in the wardrobe and I noticed that they were the Phantom's. I ran my fingers over the dark fabrics of the cloaks and shirts, finding a dressing robe towards the back of the wardrobe. I pulled it off the hanger and carried it back out to the family room, only to find the Phantom still assessing the damage of his arm. I silently placed the robe over his armchair and made my way to his kitchen to heat up a kettle of hot water. From the kitchen I continued to watch him. His slender body shivered uncontrollably, and I prayed that the kettle would heat faster.

When it was finished, I poured the steaming water into a basin I found in one of the cabinets and carried it out to where he was sitting. I placed the basin on top of the piano and knelt to gain better access to his soaked shirt. The Phantom's eyes widened in horror when he saw my fingers brush against the button of his collar. Faster than lightning, his right hand swung up and immediately snatched my wrist, causing me to gasp in discomfort.

"What are you doing?" he cried.

"You need help." I replied in a frightened tone of voice. "I was only..."

"Trying to pry?" he growled, cutting me off. "Have your eyes grown curious as to what horrors lie beneath these very buttons?"

I shook my head continuously and his hand released my wrist.

"You're going to freeze to death if you don't get out of your wet clothes." I assured.

Like a stubborn child, the Phantom reached up with his only good hand and began fighting with the buttons of his shirt, finding that he couldn't manage with just one hand.

"I...I can do it myself."

After a few moments of watching him struggle, my hand placed itself over his own, the very gesture causing him to gasp, as if someone had stopped his heart.

"Let me help you, maestro." I softly said.

He pressed his eyes closed and turned away from my glance.

"Oh, Christine, no, please..."

My fingers unfastened the first button, then the second. I was working on the third, when his hand gently placed itself over my own, causing a shiver to run down my spine, for his touch was like ice.

"No more," he begged. "You should not have to see such a sight with your innocent eyes. What lies beneath this piece of fabric is something that you will never be able to unsee."

The Phantom paused, taking in a ragged breath that was filled with all the pain in the world.

"It is something that I, myself, avoid at all cost."

"Maestro," I tried to speak, but he cut me off once more.

"You could not even stand the sight of my monstrous face, Christine. My body is much worse, and my heart could not bear to see your horrified eyes for a second time."

My bottom lip quivered in fear as I continued to undo each button, my eyes never leaving his own terrified orbs. When my fingers ran out of buttons, I gently pulled the bottom of the neatly tucked garment out from his trousers. That's when I found the final two buttons and felt his shirt part away from his torso. My eyes began to advert from his gaze, but his fingers gently tilted my chin back up to face his own eyes once more.

"Christine, please," he begged. "Don't do this."

"Let me help you, maestro," I repeated in the sincerest tone I could muster.

Finally, the Phantom pressed his eyes closed, allowing my eyes to look down at his torso. He had been right. His body was a hellish nightmare, and I covered my mouth to choke out the horrified gasp that escaped my lips. There was not a single patch of flesh to be found, for there was nothing but scars that crisscrossed one another and patches of burns that had healed improperly. All of this was on a canvas stretched tight over protruding ribs and bones.

"Oh, Christine..." a sob escaped the man's lips.

I pressed my eyes closed to shake my head of the horrid sight before reaching over for the rag I had placed into the basin of hot water. I wrung it out and reached up to press it gently against his exposed arm that was now covered in a painful looking burn from the rope that had been tightly wrapped around it. He winced in agony, and I was gentle as I continued to dab it against every inch of his arm.

There were so many questions I wanted to ask him about why he looked the way he did, but I didn't want to make him angry.

"You should change out of these wet clothes." I said.

He immediately shot to his feet, terrified that I was going to try and help him.

"You should leave." he said. "It's late and you need to go."

"Please," I begged, but the Phantom stormed down the hall.

"Leave!"

With that being said, I heard the bedroom door slam shut and I was left standing in the family room alone. All throughout the night, I thought of nothing but what had taken place. I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, wondering if the Phantom was alright. I should have been asleep, for I had a performance the following evening, but I found that I could not. The next morning at first light, I rose and found myself in the kitchen gathering what I could to take down to the Phantom's lair. It was just a few muffins, but it was better than nothing. When I arrived inside his home, it was quiet, with only the sound of the underground lake crashing against the shore. I placed the muffins in the kitchen and tiptoed down the hall to the closed bedroom door. I took a breath and was about to knock, when I decided to slowly open it. The room was illuminated in a dull glow from the candles that were burning, and I could see that the Phantom was lying fast asleep on the bed, his mask neatly placed on the bedside table. He looked like he was in a lot of pain, for he was lightly groaning in his sleep.

I didn't know when he was going to wake, but I wanted to make sure that he was all right before I left to attend rehearsals for the night's performance. While he slept, I prepared him a cup of tea and placed that and a muffin on his bedside table. The Phantom was facing away from me so I couldn't see his face. He didn't even stir when I placed his breakfast down on the nightstand. I watched him for a few moments longer, before heading back above the cellars. I was just coming through the door, when I was spotted by Madame Giry. The moment the woman saw me, she immediately approached me.

"Christine, what were you thinking?" she scolded. "Down below the opera house? Do you want to end up like Buquet?"

"It's not like that, Madame." I replied.

"Then you tell me what you were doing down below the opera house?"

What could I say to satisfy the woman? I couldn't tell her that I had been with the Phantom, nor could I tell her everything that has happened over the past few months.

"It's nothing, Madame."

There was a moment of silence, and then the sound of Madame Giry's concerned voice.

"Christine, you best think long and hard about the path you are taking. Our choices in life follow us like a ghost. We cannot avoid the consequences forever."

I nodded. "Yes, Madame."

"Come, we have rehearsal."

All that day I rehearsed for the night's show, and that evening, I returned to my dressing room to prepare for the performance. I was just pinning up my hair, when the door opened, and Raoul appeared carrying a single red rose.

"Lotte," he said, a smile stretching across his face. "How lovely to see you."

I smiled back. "Indeed, Raoul."

Raoul placed the rose down beside me and pressed a kiss to my cheek.

"I was thinking about dinner tonight after the performance. Does that sound wonderful to you?"

I nodded. "Yes, Raoul."

"Maybe afterwards you would be interested in spending the night with me at my estate?"

My heart sank, for the man had never asked me to do something like this before. Usually if he invited me to dinner, he would drop me back off at the opera house right after. When I didn't answer him, Raoul took it upon himself to answer for me.

"Sooner or later, Lotte, you are going to have to leave this place. You can't spend your entire life living with a bunch of ballerinas. Don't you think it would be nice to have a real home with a real family?"

This angered me. "The opera house has been my home for many years, Raoul. I don't mind living here amongst the ballerinas."

"There is more out there then this place, Christine." Raoul replied. "There is a whole world just waiting to be seen. You're the toast of Paris and should be living somewhere else. I am inviting you to come stay with me at my estate."

I faked a smile. "Thank you, but I am not ready to take such a large step, Raoul."

Raoul heavily sighed. "Have it your way, Lotte. So, about dinner..."

"Actually, Raoul, I don't wish to have dinner. I've lost my appetite."

Was this our first disagreement? Raoul and I had never fought before, and yet, here we were, angry at one another. A thick silence fell over the room and finally, Raoul nodded and proceeded to leave without another word. When he left, I let out a heavy breath and sunk back in my chair. A few moments later there was a knock, and I hurried to pull open the door, expecting to find Raoul standing there with an apology.

"Raoul..."

When the door was open, I saw that it was not Raoul, but Carlotta.

"Oh, Madame," I apologized. "Forgive me."

The woman smiled that familiar creepy smirk and entered my dressing room.

"Ah, I see you have made this place your own. I do hope the company has been treating you well."

I closed the door behind us and nodded. "They have, Madame."

"And what about the audience? Have they treated you with respect? I remember when I first started out, they were so cruel and laughed. Oh, how they laughed at me because they thought I was not worthy enough to be on stage."

I had yet to have any problems with the company or the audience, but now that she was speaking about it, my nerves were beginning to get the best of me.

"One small mistake and you will be the laughingstock of Paris." she continued. "How horrid that would be for you."

"Wh...What did you do?" I nervously asked. "To become perfect?"

Once more Carlotta smiled and waved a cup that she held in her hand.

"This drink saved my career, you see. Before every performance I would drink this and the world around me would simply slip away. I was no longer nervous, and it even improved my singing. I came here tonight to treat you, my dear. You deserve every ounce of luck the world has to offer."

"How kind of you, Madame."

Without another word, I took a sip of the foul-tasting drink, gagging after the liquid hit my tongue. I tried to pull away, but Carlotta tilted the cup so that I would continue drinking.

"If it burns on the way down it is working, but will only be successful if you finish the entire drink."

I held my breath and drank every last drop, the drink tasting like pepper and vinegar.

"And there you have it." she happily cried. "My work here is done. Good luck tonight, my little flower, I am sure you will be wonderful!"

I didn't feel any different but didn't have time to wait for it to start working, for I was called out to go on. The show began like it usually did; the curtain would rise, and I would start to sing. The music began to play, and I took my place before the audience. I opened my mouth, expecting to have my voice flow with the melody, but nothing escaped. What was wrong with me? Suddenly the music came to an abrupt halt. I gasped in fear and saw the stagehands waving me on. I took a breath and heard the music start again, but when I attempted to sing, still nothing came out. I grabbed my throat and heard laughing erupt. My worst nightmare was coming true and within a matter of seconds, the entire auditorium was laughing at me. My eyes scanned the auditorium, petrified and embarrassed, finding the Phantom rushing through the side of the stage pushing people aside and pulling on the ropes. Suddenly, from below my feet, the floor gave way and I fell through a trap door, falling until I hit the floor below.