They have barely reached the shore to his lair before he jumps out of the gondola and grips her arm to follow him. Throughout the whole passage she had cowered by the front, eager to have as much a distance between them as possible, all the magic and enchantment from her first visit gone, replaced by fear and uncertainty.

„Hunted like a beast, hated like a monster! Is there no pity to be for me? Why did you have to look, Christine? Why?!" his voice is rough and loud as he drags her upon the shore, shaking her by the shoulders with a might that makes her nearly scream out.

„Please…" she only pleads, unsure what else to say to not fuel his rage any further. For a moment he just stares at her, stares with an expression like if he only notices her presence now, something in his face that she cannot read, before his hands let go of her and his voice becomes gentle again.

„Better get ready, my dear. We don't want you to be late for our wedding." The last part he emphasises with his fingers gently stroking her cheek while all she can do is not to flinch away at that gesture.

„Go in there. I will bring you your dress." he instructs her while pointing to the other end of the cave where behind curtains she knows the swan-shaped bed stands. Her voice gone and her limbs stiff she makes her way over the stoney path to the pointed direction, finding the place beyond the drapes wider then expected, housing not only what is a bed but also an improvised living-room. Her feet lead her though to the nearest wall upon which she leans her back, as if she could disappear into the stone if she only held long enough still. An eternity it seems that she stays like that, her heart beating wildly against her ribs as she listens for any sound coming from his direction. When his footsteps finally begin to echo along the cave she brings her hands up and clutches them tight in front of her breast, yet when he enters he only leaves the dress by the foot of the bed, not even sparing her a glance.

„You better be quick or I'll help you with it." he says with a voice that leaves no room for arguments.

Agony and desperation wash over her, face falls into her hands, shoulders shaking under the realisation that her fate was sealed in his mind, that those shapeless fears now had a face and name.What am I to do?rings in her head as she looks around like hopping to find a way to escape, but finding that the only path out would be by the one they came.Am I lost then?she wonders, for what sort of man is this who would bring to life heavenly music only to rejoice in murder and abduction? What man to claim a wife against her will, with flame and death as witnesses? She wonders and her mind is reeling in an attempt to piece together all that was in those past years, to understand why her.What is to become of me? Oh, Raoul!But Raoul isn't here, and who knows if he would even find his way through the maze down here, if he would be on time…

Suddenly, a new form of calm comes over her. Horror and desperation bring their own calms. Clarity comes to her, she is on her own and she has no where to run. No one is coming, no one to rescue her, no one to save her. And as she takes up the white dress resolution takes form in her heart to not give in, never more give in to be prey to the shadows. What right does he have to act like master over her destiny, to lie and trick her in the guise of Heaven? To command her like a piece in a play, the outcome only to be decided by his hand? Fully dressed she steps out to the lake again, finding him clutching her ring, the ring that Raoul gave her and anger overcomes her.

"Are you satisfied now? Do death and misery gladden you and still your lust for blood? And I? Am I now be prey to your lust for flesh?"

Slowly he turns to face her, a mocking smile on his lips, the ruined part of his face truly looking death-like in the half darkness of the cave with only candles to offer some light. His natural blond hair falls messy and sparse around his features, piercing blue eyes measuring her from head till toe in the tightly fit dress.

"You know nothing of misery, my dear. Sadness? Yes. But misery? As for the joys of flesh… What woman would want my company with a face like this? Look a what it does to our own love right now…" His voice is full of emotion as he speaks, nearly breaking, yet she has a hard time understanding his words, his words of love while he holds her prisoner. His fingers once again brush her cheek, but she averts her face, making her discomfort clear.

"You speak of love and yet don't know it."

"Of course I don't know love. Where might I have learned it? From the mother that I never knew because she sold me to get rid of my scared face? From the master in the circus who capitalised on my deformity, only to beat me in his drunkenness into unconsciousness? Or from the countless visitors who would pay to see the Devil's child for their amusement?"

He laughs and it is an ugly laugh, unfitting for the tale he tells such as it is, one to truly evoke pity, one that makes Christine take a longer look at him who had worn so many names and masks until now.

"All my life I needed to hide from righteous society and found only refuge in these underground halls below the heaven of sublime arts, and then have all of that be tossed away by you who just needed to look! Do not fall into self pity now, my love, for the Devil has won and he will have your companion till eternity!" His voice is rough again as he places the wreath and vail on her head, as he shoves the ring into her hand closing her fingers around it, yet she decides to hold his glance, taking down the vail, staring him right in the eyes. They stay like this in silence, neither moving, the breaking of small waves the only sound. Finally she steps away, moving to one of the many covered mirrors, mirrors the companions to a man who does not wish to look into them.

"I am beyond fear of what you call your fateful curse, for your soul is where the horrors and distortion lie."

For a moment she wonders if he'll jump at her for those words, but unexpectedly he stays still, his head falling down like in remorse. Silence there is, silence and quiet. Could it be that she could soften his heart, maybe bringing him to let her go once more unharmed? Wasn't he a friend to her in those past years? Could she awaken those feelings again and shove away those that clouded his mind now? Hope begins to awaken in her, until she turns to the iron gate and fear comes to her anew. And worst of it her abductor sees it too.

"What do we have here, my dear? A guest at our wedding? I had rather hoped that you would come monsieur, and now my wish comes true. You have truly made my night!"

From the other side of the gate stands Raoul, soaking wet, water dripping from his hair, his shirt glued to his body, half disarranged and fighting for breath. For a moment her heart takes flight, for he came for her, he managed to find his way through this labyrinth, her heart feels light only to be heavy again, knowing there is no way for him to avoid her captors wrath.

"Raoul! Please, monsieur! Don't hurt him!" She cries, only to be answered by a mocking laugh, his arm suddenly around her waist drawing her nearer to him.

"Why hurt him, we do need witnesses. Don't we?"

"Christine! Let her go, you foul thing! Have mercy on her!" Raoul shouts while looking for a way to open or pass the solid gate.

"Your lover makes a most passionate plea." His voice rings in mock courtesy as she manages to free herself of his hold, stepping away and glancing worriedly at Raoul. What will become of him if he stays any longer?

"Raoul, please, it's useless!"

"I won't let you stay in this tomb! I love her. Have you no compassion?"

"Compassion? When had ever the world showed compassion to me?" Anger has made way to rage and Christine helplessly watches Raoul shaking at the gate and at the jailor pacing the shore.

"I won't let you keep her locked away!"

"Won't you? Well, then. Enter, good sir, be my guest then!" Moving a lever mechanics are put into motion, slowly bringing the gate up, Raoul making a careful step back. The man at the shore changes his demeanour meanwhile, a slight swagger in his step, his deep voice filled with false politeness. Helpless, helpless she feels watching all of this, rooted down by fear of a false move to risk her beloveds life.

"Young vicomte, did you really think Ill harm her? Harm my beloved bride? No, I know her to be innocent in the wrongs towards me, even those performed by her, for they all came from bad influence. From your influence!"

It all happens so fast that Christine has barely a moment to realise her captor holding a rope in his hand, a scream comes from her lips as she sees Raoul struggle against his opponent, against the noose around his neck and the bars agains his back. With swift motion the opponent fastens the rope to the bars, leaving his newest victim barely room to breath while binding with the rest the hands up as well, her beloved captured and exposed, fighting helplessly.

"Not so brave, are we now? Valiant, noble knight. Where are your fine horses, all your riches? No use of them now! I will make this easy, easy for both of you. You can fight and earn a slow agonising death, or Christine up there accepts my hand and with it earns your freedom. What will it be Christine? A new life with me to buy his freedom, or will you reject me and send your pathetic lover to his grave? This is your only choice! This is the point on no return!"

The air shakes with his wrath, his anger leaving no room for arguments, no room for mercy. A monster she sees now, no Angel, no Guardian, no Teacher, nothing but a heartless monster in the shape of a man, a man that came to her in the guise of a friend, only to have the curtain reveal a monster. Tears begin to stream down her face, anger filling now her own voice.

"All the tears I might have shed for your dark fate… turn cold and into tears of hate!"

A sob escapes her, and then another as she watches Raoul struggle, as she watches all humanity leave the villains face, his mind set on his own goal without mercy.

"Christine, forgive me. It is all my fault." Raoul brings out as the monster repeats his hold on him, and she cannot move, cannot watch while he wrestles against his restrains.

"Now I see you for who you are, fallen idol and false friend. All hopes and dreams are shattered under your thumb!"

"Too late for prayers and useless pity! What ever way you turn you can not win. We could have been happy together!"

What form of happiness would she ever could find down here, here I this cage, this tomb? His music, his kindness had called to her back in the days, but where, oh where was it now? The illusion of beauty was just this, just an illusion in a lost mind, in a heartless being, and there was no room for anything else. What was she to do?

"Don't, please! Why do you curse mercy? Angel of Music… you deceived me! I gave you my mind, blindly."

"And I made you a star, the triumph of perfection! This is how you repay me? You try my patience! Make your choice!"

Make your choice, make your choice, make your choicerings in her head, too loud, too much, everything is too much. She feels like she is being ripped apart, ripped and torn apart, cold dagger in her heart, dreams and hopes shattered as Raoul fights for air. How did it come to this, how did it come to this? Why this torture, why this lust for blood? Mercy, mercy! Why did he claim he loved her?Of course I don't know might I have learned it?she hears his voice echo in her head. A tug is in her heart and her eyes soften suddenly as the meaning of those words come through to her. What kind of life must it be to never be loved? To grow up abandoned, mocked and lonely? What heart would not harden at such school of life? She remembers her early childhood brightened by love cut short, and then the years at the Opera where an invisible friend had tried to spare her of loneliness. A loneliness he himself knew too well. A tear, then another comes as she thinks of his dark fate, the fate of one who was chased by darkness yet only looked for a friend.

Without her mind noticing her feet begin to move, bare skin being met by the freezing waters of the lake, snow white skirt soaked up by the murky waters, her direction steady and firm.

She can see his surprise as their lips meet.